#forest of asphodel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ceilidho · 1 year ago

Text

in the cauldron boil and bake

prompt: pretty little witch who lives in a cottage in the forest who sometimes eats wayward travellers but Ghost has some kind of magic repulsion aura that doesn’t allow her to use her powers on him. (ON AO3) tags: very nsfw, implied/lightly described violence, dubcon/noncon, noncon spanking, implied cannibalism (just in general, not with the pairing lol); 5.5k

He moves at a pace too slow for you to make out with the naked eye, but you feel it creeping through you.

The vision of him appears in a dream first, a premonition. A hulking figure trekking through the woods. You snuggle deeper under the covers and scrunch up your nose in your sleep. In the morning, you go outside to harvest the holly leaves and buttercup and return home dreaming of tender, slow cooked meat. It’s been awhile since you last had a proper meal. When you hang up the laundry to dry, you chew on peppermint cuttings and try not to salivate.

In the centuries you’ve lived in these woods, travellers have come and gone. You don’t eat every single one that happens to pass by—that would be a surefire way to get your forest branded as bedevilled and a longer route established circumnavigating your grove. You might be hungry, but you’re prudent, careful. Not like some other witches these days, greedy for any morsel that happens to pass in front of them.

No; you take care of your woods. You have to, if you plan on remaining here for the centuries to come. If a few travellers happen to disappear here and there, that’s simply life. Not everyone can make treacherous journeys.

You always have a sense of when a traveller is nearby. It’s as though your being is embedded within the forest itself, privy to those who dwell within it. You feel him along the outer regions of the forest, a lone traveller hauling not more than himself and a rucksack filled with the bare essentials. He appears to you in flashes in your dreams, not the full image of him but piecemeal, a shadow obscuring his full face from you. You see only tendons and meat on his bones, a rough hewn strength to his limbs, touch muscle and fat wrapped around his middle.

It makes you giddy to think of him circling ever closer to your spider’s web at the centre of the forest. After him, you won’t be hungry for years.

Your restless leg acts up the day you know that he’s close enough to approach. All morning, you sit at the little table in your kitchen and rip lavender buds from the stems, black shoes tap-tapping away at the floor. The broom sweeps by itself in the corner, sweeping the dust into a neat pile. When you snap your fingers, it’s brusque, impatient. The broom halts in midair and then clatters against the floorboards. The chair scrapes against the floor as you rise to your feet.

“Come, come, Asphodel,” you whisper to the black cat curled up on the windowsill, which barely lifts her head enough to blink at you. “No more dallying. Mommy’s hungry.”

In a show of great defiance and disrespect, Asphodel merely meows at you and lays her head back down. Insipid little familiar.

You go off on your own then, keen to see the travellers with your own eyes. Jowls growing tighter. Robe cinched tight around you and hair pinned back by a thin strand of velvet. The days have just begun to shorten, just begun to exhale frost and rot. The leaves however, by agreement, do not crunch under your feet and give you away. You are a phantom amidst the trees as you flank the lone traveller, following the breadth of him as he traverses past your homestead.

It’s fortunate that you are not beholden to physics because he is formidable. Broad as a man might be, no less sizable than in your dreams, but much more menacing in the flesh. He too moves quietly in the brush, with a care and precision that you have not seen many humans employ.

He conceals the lower half of his face with a black piece of fabric, which you had mistaken for shadows. Not so. It is a deliberate concealment, meant to unnerve. Without magic, you might not have approached.

His size alone isn’t enough to frighten you though. You are two hundred years old and you have eaten men twice his size when you were naught but a babe.

You step out into the clearing just a few paces from him, halting the man in his tracks.

“Hello,” you call out tentatively, raising a hand to shield your eyes. “C-can you help me? I think I’ve lost my way.”

At this point in your career, it takes a bit to hide the smile that threatens to break. You are like the spider posing as a fly. The show is half the fun though.

The man doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even seem shocked at your presence, arms loose by his sides. It makes your stomach clench, the script flipped a bit. It should be you, loose and limber, and the wayward traveller tense and nonplussed, then eager to help the lost girl. You wait a moment longer for him to respond, but he remains silent, blue eyes unblinking.

“Can you help me?” you repeat, taking a step closer. The tendrils of your magic slither out of you, snaking across the forest floor towards him. “I’m lost. Can you help me find my way out?”

Your magic finds his boots in the dirt like mycelium threads, the pulse of him rich and earthen. It makes the saliva pool in your mouth, hunger gnawing at your guts. He will taste so good. Meaty and huge, enough to last you the winter. You take another step closer despite his continued silence, a tad too eager. You only need a moment though, long enough for your magic to take root, to render him febrile and inert. When he collapses to the ground, you will float his body back and rend him limb from limb by your hearth.

Another step brings you closer to him when your magic suddenly recoils, unwinds from him. You frown. You try sending it back, but your magic shrinks away, an atavistic fear blooming up in you. It does not want near this man.

A cold sweat breaks out on your neck. The hairs on your neck and arms stand on end.

The masked man staring back at you tilts his head, the skin under his eyes crinkling with a smile that you cannot see. Suddenly eldritch, blood-curdling.

“Now, what are you?” he asks with a rumbling voice, rough from disuse, and takes a step towards you.

You trip over your feet scrambling back. Branches from a nearby tree scoop towards you, catching you before you tumble down into the soft dirt. He advances quickly on you, big hand finding now the hatchet strapped to his side and pulling it out, the thing dwarfed in his massive paw.

“Stay back—stay back—” you hiss, the branches listening to your fear and dragging you away from the man. “Leave—I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Do what?” he asks, taunting. Just a twinge of it, as if he can’t help that he has a predilection to mock.

He catches up to you fast enough, the strides of his long legs enough to eat up the distance. When you whip the branches towards him, they stop mere inches from him, giving him ample time to bat them away. The ones that get close enough meet his hatchet, a single cleave enough to sever them from the tree. You don’t feel the tree’s pain, but where his blade meets your magic—a thin coating along the branches, like extended, ghost limbs of your own—it stings.

“Stay back!” you shriek, heart pumping away ferociously. Your voice comes out like a caterwaul. He’s too close now though, towering over you, the bitter smell of old sweat and musk. Up close, he does not smell like anything you know. He smells sun bleached, the rust of old blood like the blades in your shed after a long season’s hunt.

“What sort of girl—” he starts, hand fisting in your hair and wrenching your head back, “—ambushes strange men in forests? Do you have a death wish?”

To have him touch you is singularly terrifying. You haven’t been touched in a hundred years, certainly not by a human. His touch sends you skittering back, but he has you trapped in place. Your shoes dig into the dirt when you try to push yourself away, hands pressed against his chest much to your distress.

“Men can’t kill me,” you hiss, fingers clawing at the hand holding you in place, scratching at him with the little nails that you never bothered to grow out.

You can’t see the whole of his face, but his expression is undoubtedly unimpressed. “I could kill you easily, girl.”

“I’m not a girl—I’m a witch.”

“A witch is a girl.”

“I eat girls,” you snap, so angry now that spittle drips from your mouth. You shrink back when he wipes it away with a gloved hand. “I eat men like you too. If you are a man.”

You say that because the way your magic curls away from him has you on edge. Humans may not scare you, but eldritch, ancient monsters do and they hunt little witches like you. Usually not in your own woods, but stranger things have happened.

“‘Course I’m a man. Look at me.”

He presses the whole length of his body against yours, dragging you so close to him by your hair that you almost rise up onto your toes. He’s solid all the way through, only a bit of give around his middle. There’s something distinctly hard pressing against your low belly. It leaves you flustered, hot under your collar. An unfamiliar heat in your core, legs clenching on nothing. You give in to the instinctive urge to look down, but pressed so close to him, there’s little to see beyond the wideness of his chest, covered by a brown tunic laced up the front.

“Means nothing. Plenty of things look like other things. I look like a girl but I am not,” you stutter.

“Were you trying to eat me then, witch girl?” he breathes, amused. You yelp when he gives you a little shake by the hair.

You flash your teeth at that, hoping he takes that as a threat. You have chewed off flesh far tougher than his. “Still might, human. If you don’t let me go.”

He stares down at you, eyes giving nothing away. “It’s not every day that a little girl threatens to eat me. Not very nice, you know. I’ve cut down men twice your size for less.”

“You like bloodshed?”

“I trade in bounties; it’s part of the job. But, yes, girl. I like bloodshed.”

It’s not reassuring to hear that when his hands are fast on you. You wish now you hadn’t dreamed of this strange man immune to your magic and left him to his wandering. There are bears in these woods that could have dealt with him for you.

“I’m—I’m not going to anymore,” you say, quieter now, hands falling back to his chest, trying to shove yourself just the slightest bit away. You don’t move an inch. “I’ll…I can find something else to eat. Just let me go.”

The man widens his stance, feet bracketing yours. In two hundred years, you haven’t felt small. You’ve felt tremendous, expansive, big as the whole forest; monstrous some days even. The most ferocious predator in the woods, the haunting lurching her way through the trees, belly hungry for iron blood and the ripe taste of fear.

You feel that fear now in your mouth for the first time, sour.

He smiles behind the mask again. “Maybe later. Need to teach you a lesson.”

“A lesson?” Maybe the fear hasn’t sunk in all the way because you ask that when he lets go of his hold on your hair and drops his hands to your waist, getting a tight hold there. Twisting you around while he walks you back.

“You all alone in the forest?” he asks instead of answering you. “Is there a house that I missed? Been here for months and haven’t seen one.”

“Of course, I—I live here.” You don’t want to say more than though, lest you reveal too much about yourself. You’re still wondering whether surviving this ordeal will be as simple as getting away. There’s something savage in his gaze now, the mealy taste in your mouth translating that look like the hunter looking upon the hunted.

There’s a tree stump that he guides you to, shaded under the canopy. When he tips you over the stump, the breath rushes out of you. The edge is rough against your stomach. You don’t even notice him pulling up the back of your dress until a few seconds later.

“Wait, hold on—that’s my indoor dress!” you cry out, the front of your dress scraping against the stump and sure to tear. “Let me go—stop it!”

Your drawers are next, slid down your hips while you squirm and wail, feet kicking out behind you.

“Behave.” It’s punctuated by the sudden sting on your cheek, bottom flaming red by his hand. Pain is such a foreign concept to you that it initially leaves you speechless.

He props you against the stump with little care for how your knees drag in the dirt and whether your underwear gets dirt on them. He keeps you pinned there with a big hand on the centre of your back. Your shimmying gets you nowhere, only planted farther into the dirt; it only scuffs up your knees and pulls wretched little noises from your throat.

The terror comes when you’re bare to him and he draws his hand back. You gasp at the first smack, shocked; it’s a broken, stupid sound. At the next smack, you react properly, going into a frenzy, twisting left and right to get away, but helpless under just a fraction of his strength. Your magic does no good for once in your long life either. You feel it sit on the periphery, unsure of what to do because it cannot come close to this strange man for some reason.

You yelp every time his hand comes down on your bottom. Red fills your vision. Tears do as well.

“I am going to—” you break off on a yowl, back arching, “—I am going to eat the flesh off your bones for this! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

His chuckle is bone-chilling, ices you right over. “You oughta at least know the name of the man you’re going to eat. They call me Ghost.”

“I’ll call you—” The caustic name you were about to call him is ripped from your lips by another well-placed smack on your ass.

You shriek so loud that the birds flee from their perches within the trees.

The worst part is the way your thighs flex together with every smack. Belly clenching. You can feel slick gathering where it shouldn’t, a high blush splotched across your cheeks as you pray that he doesn’t notice. It doesn’t happen often, only in the week following your cycle when you feel ravenous and flushed, skin prickly and raw until you go outdoors and roll around in the dirt under the moonlight. Always by yourself, of course, naturally.

Little panting breaths hiccup out of you, your cheeks overflowing with frustrated tears. After the first minute, you simply go limp. There’s nothing else you can do. Even trying to levitate does you no good, it only props your butt up higher into the air since Ghost’s hand on your upper back keeps your chest pressed to the stump. It only seems to amuse him, judging by the hoarse chuckle he lets out.

Without your broom, the little bit of levitation is more of a party trick than anything—and you haven’t even been to a party in fifty years, not since your coven’s last autumnal gathering. Not that it matters at a time like this. His hand comes down on your butt again and you wail, shoes digging into the ground and kicking up dirt. Your mind goes blank again, thoughts replaced by the looping ow, ow, ow that also falls from your lips.

“Does it hurt, lovie?” Ghost asks, hand coming to rest on your livid cheek. It makes you hiss, turning your head until your cheek is pressed to the stump’s inner rings. His voice is gentle, but mocking, like the voice you use when hacking into a screaming man, asking him if he’d like his hand back while you dangle it in front of him.

“It’s going to hurt so much worse when I dice you into little pieces,” you hiss. He gives a mocking pat to your butt, making you flinch.

“Learned your lesson yet?”

You keep your gaze stubbornly off to the side. Somehow, it would be worse to look over your shoulder and make eye contact with the strange beast at your back. “If you leave now, I won't sever your limbs from your body and roast your organs from the inside.”

“I take it you haven’t,” he says, another chuckle rumbling out of him.

His hand comes off your naked rear. Your ears perk up when you hear the sound of fabric over fabric, wondering if maybe he’s pulling your underwear back up, but you don’t feel anything. What you feel instead is the sudden heaviness pushed between your thighs, nestled right up against your wet core, so unfamiliar that it makes you jump. You stay put though, held down still by his hand.

“Put that back,” you say severely.

He holds it against your sex with his free hand and presses forward, coating himself with your slick. “You’re not in a position to make demands, girl.”

“I’m going to slice every bit of skin off your bones.” Your mouth salivates at the thought, thinking of all the thick, iron-rich blood from someone Ghost’s size.

Those thoughts disperse again like smoke when he ruts forward, the thick length between his legs gliding through your wetness. It makes you break out into a sweat, keen catching between your teeth, just narrowly bitten back. Ghost makes no effort to suppress his groans. They’re loud, a lustful, masculine pleasure that you’ve heard far off in your woods before—unfortunate couples come to copulate before meeting their end at your hands—but never so close. Never right up in your ear.

“It’s not fair,” you sob, emotional suddenly. “You’re just going to—to do that and then kill me.”

He leans his full weight over you, the rough texture of his shirt catching on the back of your dress. You’re sweating so hard now that the lace embroidery around your collar is thoroughly soaked, clinging to your skin.

“‘M not gonna kill you. What would I do something like that for?”

You sniff. “It’s what I would do.”

He chuckles again, the sound reverberating through you with him all pressed up against you. It would almost be pleasant if it weren’t for the cock pumping between your thighs. That brings you right back down to earth, mind torn away from the ravens perched in the branches of the tree looming over you, watching you from above. If you were able to pay them any close attention, you’d probably hear them chattering about the position their little witch has found herself in.

“C’mon now,” Ghost grunts in your ear, hips shifting back. “Be a good little witch and say a little spell—don’t wanna knock you up on the first try.”

You open your mouth to reply and squeal when he rocks back forward, the bulbous tip pressing into you this time. Your toes flex in your shoes, thighs spreading without any prompting from him. You don’t even notice the hand on your upper back travelling to your waist, both of his big hands gripping you there now to hold you in place. There’s no thought of trying to get away, just breathing around the immense stretch from his shaft driving up into you.

“Ooh, no, no—it’s too much,” you squeak, fingers digging into the sides of the stump, the wood cutting into your soft skin.

It is too much. It doesn’t even feel entirely possible. Even with the wetness leaking from you, his cock only manages to fit a couple inches in you before you’re too tight.

“You’re doing fine, lovie,” he rasps into your ear, drawing his hips back and then plunging back into you, deeper than before. “See? Not so bad, is it? Gonna take a little more for me, a’right?”

“No—no more,” you slur, tongue heavy in your mouth. “Can you just—just keep it right there?”

“Yeah? That enough for you?”

Your fingers unlatch from the bark of the tree, trembling when you reach down to wipe them off on your dress before dragging the palm of your hand over your clit. It makes you jump and whine. The skin of your palm is a bit textured from gripping onto the stump, but the friction makes your brain leak right out of your ear. Especially when you push your hips back just a little bit, nervously fucking yourself on his cock.

Ghost laughs and lets go of your hip to bat your hand away, then reaches back around to fit a big hand around your jaw.

He holds your jaw in a single hand, palm supporting your chin. “You ever going to do this again, girl? Go up to strange men in the woods?”

You almost don’t hear him over the blood in your ears. A thick cock spears into you for the first time in your life and the man rutting into you expects coherence? Maybe you babble something into the palm of his hand, but it’s lost to the world when he pulls your knee out to make more room for himself and tips your ass up.

He gives your cheek a solid pat. “C’mon, focus on me, lovie. Tell me what you’re gonna do from now on.”

Your breathing picks up, heavier. When you don’t respond again, he abruptly pulls out and stands up, hauling you up to your feet with him. All of the blood rushes from your head, pooling around your pretty black shoes. Leaves crunch under your feet when he turns the two of you around and sits down on the stump where you’d just been spread over. The hands on your waist turn you to face him and that’s when an inkling of struggle works its way back into your veins.

You hiss and snarl when he lifts you to straddle his thighs, particularly when you see the brutish, ruddy cock jutting out from his trousers. Ghost seems more amused than anything at your little attempts to escape, clutching you closer to him until your chests are pressed tight together, making it all the more intimate. All the more real.

“Quit fussing.” You jump at the sharp slap he delivers to your ass.

“Going to curse your whole lineage—” you grit out, wincing when he draws you back down over his length, cunt fluttering at the stretch. You can’t help dropping your forehead to his chest, shoulder hitched with a frustrated cry.

His groan makes you seize up, a hot flash darting through you. “Don’t be like that, lovie. Might be yours too.”

A haze passes over you when firm hands lift you up off his cock and plop you back down, emptying you of any thoughts like you’d tipped your head and all the water had poured out.

The worst is the way your body betrays you. Each time he shoves his fat cock into your cunt, a whine rattles out of you, snatched from your chest. Robbed from you. The nearby leaves rustle and swirl up into the air with an artificial wind, magic singing their edges. He reaches so much deeper inside of you like this, splayed on his lap, hands gripping onto his shoulders for dear life because it takes every bit of energy in your body to merely take his cock into you.

Your knees scrape against the uneven wood every time he drags you back down. They’ll probably be scraped raw by the end of it; you’ll need to tearfully smooth on ointment and wrap thick bandages around them when you get back to the cottage.

“There we go. Fuckin’ take it—come on,” Ghost grunts, dragging you down onto his length, just using your body how he likes.

The thick head grinds up against a spot deep inside of you, spongy and sensitive. You feel it all the way up in your throat. Every time his cock rubs against that spot, your nails dig into his shoulders. A violent shudder rips through you because this position also lets him grind your clit down against the root of his cock.

“Ghost—”

He ducks his covered mouth into the side of your neck. Even through the fabric, you can feel his lips press a firm, closed-mouth kiss there. “Bit more, bit more, love. Better than you thought it’d be, huh? Fuck. Only thing magic about you is this wet pussy. Fuck hiding this from me—gonna ride it twice a day from now on.”

“Never doing this ever again, you beast—”

Ghost bites you through the mask, the pressure dull but real. It says, try keeping it from me.

When you come, it’s sudden and sharp, painful like a cramp in your belly and then a wave of bone-deep pleasure. Ghost wrangles it from you with a thumb on your clit, pumping up into your pussy at the same time. He wrenches it from you like it’s his, like you have no choice but to come for him because he wants it. You press your whole body against him when you come, arms wrapping around his neck like you need him close. Heat unfolding and leaving you limp. No cauldron has ever boiled as hot as your flesh does now.

He pulls out of you before coming. You watch helplessly as he settles you close enough to keep the heat of your pussy on him and then wraps a firm hand around himself, giving it a few good tugs before a white rope of come spurts from his cock. Right onto your exposed pussy, spilling across your folds. Your mouth drops open on a soft whine as it stripes across your inner thighs and the front of your dress, painting it white.

His harsh pants ebb into something softer as his cock goes flacid against his thigh. You feel boneless, drained of all your energy. Even your magic only gives a pathetic twitch, the tendrils of it curling back up inside of you where it’s nice and warm.

Your cunt feels tender, puffy when you reach down and touch it. You flinch when his fingers graze against yours, also feeling around your swollen lips. Ghost knuckles your fingers out of the way and scoops up the mess he left between your thighs, pushing two fingers just past your entrance. You don’t even have the energy to yelp, only wince and mewl.

He shushes you. “Didn’t even come inside. Quit whining.”

His words are belied by the way he scoops more of his come up into you.

You really don’t like that he follows you home. The march back to your cozy cottage nestled in the middle of the forest feels like a death march, one you might have witnessed in the hundreds of years that you’ve lived here. Worse still because your legs are still wobbly, your sex achy and raw. Still, whenever you pause for a moment or lean against a tree, he nudges you forward with a hand on your back.

“This is unfair,” you snivel, eyes tearing up. “You can’t—this is my forest.”

“The woods don’t belong to anyone, girl,” Ghost counters.

“Yes, they do. I’ve been…it’s been mine for two hundred years.”

“Of course, lovie.” You can almost hear the roll of his eyes. It makes you grit your teeth. You can’t wait to bury him in the backyard with all the bone mandalas.

It doesn’t take long for him to settle in, making himself nice and comfortable on your plush couch with the intricate doilies knitted by your grandmother draped along the back. Your poor couch almost collapses under his weight.

Your cottage is far too small for someone of his size; you built it to accommodate someone of your size, not the behemoth that’s taken up residence in your house. You know that Ghost is more of a man of action than words, but he’s plenty happy to grumble about needing to redo the door to make it big enough for him to come inside without having to duck his head.

“You aren’t going to touch a single brick of my house.”

“I’ll take apart the whole damned thing if I want.”

You keep trying to lift him up with your magic but it does nothing to him and only tires you out because using magic is exhausting. You’re sweating and panting at the end of your efforts while Ghost just stands in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest and a single eyebrow raised. It’s humiliating. You used to be a powerful witch. You still are.

He lets you yell at him until you’re red in the face and then drags you down for a rough fuck. Arguments with Ghost often end that way—you, sore and satiated in your bed, the window opened to let some fresh air in. Him, spread out next to you and dragging you close, playing absentmindedly with a nipple until you pinch his side. That always gets you a meaner pinch, one that leaves you teary-eyed and hot all over again.

Magic might not work on him, but he’s still mortal, so you try to work with that. Bear traps by the windows and doors. Hemlock in the soap. Poison in his stew. He’s stealthier than you anticipate though and seems to have a sixth sense for death.

It’s demeaning and humiliating to be punished for your ‘bad behaviour’ but that’s what he calls it when he passes by the kitchen and catches the stew burping out the telltale skull shaped steam. You’re taken off kitchen duty after that, but the worst part is being trapped under him on the bed with your hands pinned over your head, bottom exposed to him yet again. He laughs a little later on when you squirm around on your hard kitchen chairs because you refuse to sit on his lap.

Sometimes when he has you trapped under him when you’re sleeping—because, of course, he commandeers your bed like it was built for someone his size when truthfully he should be in a bed twice as large—he wakes up to you gnawing at his shoulder and he has to hold you jaw in his hand and rumble out “No biting” before going back to sleep. You stare over his shoulder petulantly, not even bothering to fight the pout. The kettle whispers in the kitchen, fueled by your frustration.

Ghost only lets out a dry, husky laugh. It sends a shiver down your spine.

Asphodel takes to him like a new favourite thing, winding around his legs while you glare from the other room. Damned familiar.

You only start to lighten up when your senses tingle one day when you’re out picking berries in the woods and you come back to find him ruthlessly butchering a band of raiders that had been trampling through your woods. He slaughters them methodically, almost bored. Almost like he does this every day.

You can’t help the way it makes your pussy ache.

He catches the look in your eye. You’ve been alone for far too long in the woods; everything you feel is laid bare, open for anyone to see. Ghost is just always looking.

He grins under the mask, blood splattered across the front of his shirt. “Go on, lovie. I’ll be inside in just a few.”

Molten slickness drips from between your thighs. You bite your lip before you slip away, blood growing feverish when you glance back down at the mangled bodies bleeding out in the red-orange leaves. There’s a severed eye that’s rolled off to the side and your stomach gurgles.

You lick your lip and look up at him from under your eyelashes. “Save me some for supper?”

Ghost’s eyes soften, a sharp contrast from the gore and viscera piled around him. “‘Course, lovie.”

The world seems different with the arrival of him. Cranberries beneath the sycamore, the russet moon on harvest's day, the scent of soldering iron, the laughter woven between your many faces. With him, you feel like the cynosure of all eyes.

In the twilight hours, he presses a hand to your forehead and laves your belly with his tongue like he might push something back in there. The curtains draw shut and the lights flicker off.

#cod mw2 #ceil writing #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #cod simon riley #ghost/reader #ghost cod

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cecelovegood · 11 months ago

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Okay, but thinking of asphodel as a forest.

Imagine 12 year old Hazel, wandering through that forest for 80 years. All alone, watching as the souls around her turn into trees.

Think about when she meets Nico, a person who doesn’t just look right through her. And she has hope.

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del-thetiredwriter · 10 months ago

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Pomegranates

— So here’s a one shot. Beware my English. Not exactly like greek mythology.

Toga: the loose outer garment worn in public by citizens of Ancient Rome.

Warnings: mentions of death, Ancient Greek timeline, God of dead Idia , gn reader , mythological theme…

First he turned right, then left around the corner... A groan came from the blue-haired boy, who was looking for the exit from the walls formed by blue rose bushes.

“Ahh, I think I'm lost!” he groaned.

They say curiosity killed the cat, and Ortho succumbed to his curiosity.

His brother used to come to this garden regularly every day, but no one was allowed to enter the garden except his brother. No matter how much Ortho asked his brother, no matter how much he insisted, his brother would still not let him enter the garden and would not tell him what he was doing in the garden.

Ortho took the opportunity of his brother going to Olympos and secretly entered the garden and got lost.

He had come to a crossroads again. While he was nervously thinking which one he should choose, a voice distracted him.

"Who are you?"

Ortho turned around in panic. He didn't expect to see a soul staring at him with a dull expression.

“Oh, hello.” said Ortho timidly.

He was frightened by the piercing gaze of the person in front of him.

"Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

The spirit approached him.

“Well, I'm Ortho… and I'm actually lost.”

The soul raised an eyebrow.

“Don't you know that you should not enter this labyrinth, child? You're lucky, come with me and let's get you out of here."

The sprit took his hand and they wandered back and forth through the maze of trees and bushes.

The sprit did not speak. So there was an awkward silence. There was only the rustle of the grass they were stepping on.

“Um I guess you know the maze pretty well?”

Ortho asked to lighten the mood. But the spirit did not answer.

“Do you live in this labyrinth? What is your name? How long have you been here? Who are you?.."

He started asking questions repeatedly.

The spirit finally spoke.

“But you turned out to be talkative. Unlike you, he can't even put two words together properly." They said in a whisper.

Finally the spirit stopped. They reached a door. To the entrance of the labyrinth.

"We came. Don't even think about coming here again. You were lucky this time that I found you, but you may not be so lucky next time."

They let go of Ortho's hand. The blue haired boy started walking towards the door. When he reached the doorway, he stopped and turned around.

“Can you at least tell me your name?”

The spirit looked at him expressionlessly.

“What will you do if you know? After all, we won't see each other again. Anyway, my name is Y/n and don't ever come here again.”

This was the first encounter between Ortho and the spirit named Y/n.

–

“Y/N! Where are you !"

Ortho had entered the garden again. He wanted to talk again to the spirit that showed him the way when he got lost during his first entry.

That spirit was different. Normally souls come to the underworld after death. Depending on their life on Earth, they would be sent to Elysium, the Fields of Asphodel, or the Fields of Punishment. However, this soul was in his brother's garden...

He was going around random turns, screaming your name. And in the end, he arrived at a place like a garden, without even knowing how he did it.

“Y/n!”

As soon as he saw you, he ran to you with excitement.

You were lying on a sofa with lots of cushions and pillows. There was a flowing river right next to it, and many flowers and trees around it...This place looked just like the riverside in the forest where the protagonists of Ortho's favorite fairy tale met.

You opened your eyes slightly.

"You again? Didn't I tell you not to come here again?" You scolded Ortho.

“But look, I found you. And this place is beautiful.” Ortho said as he approached you.

"Beautiful? Phew! Is this place beautiful? “You said curtly.

“Yes, look, it's very nice. There are roses, magnolias, grapes… and oh, pomegranates too! I love pomegranates, how about you? “ said the child while plucking the pomegranate from its branch.

“I used to love…” said the soul bitterly.

“Umm, shall I tell you a story?” said Ortho to digress.

The spirit did not answer, but Ortho accepted it as a yes and sat down on the sofa next to the spirit.

Once upon a time, there was a lonely king. This king was smart and strong, but he was also lonely. He had no friends or family... Anyway, one day, the king disguised himself and mingled with people, and a person caught his attention. This person was not very beautiful, very smart or perfect, but something attracted the king to this person. After that, the king started to watch this person constantly. Their daily routine, what they eats, what they likes, what they does...

One day the king could not stand it and went to the forest where that person lived. He wanted to see them closer.

–

You went down to the stream to get water. As you started filling the buckets with water, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. When you looked around, you saw someone with blue hair and a black toga watching you from afar.

“Hey young master, are you lost?” You called out.

The man looked around, frightened and not knowing what to do.

You moved towards him.

“Young master, are you lost?” You asked again.

“Oh um…I-“

You smiled.

“You seem to be a high-ranking person, what is someone like you doing in this forest?” You said.

The blue-haired man was mumbling something, but nothing could be understood.

“I'm Y/n, I live in this forest. Would you like to come to my house? “ You suggested. You haven't had any guests in a long time, in fact you never had.

"O-okey.” The young man said in panic.

"How nice. By the way, what was your name?”

“Idia”

–

From that day on, the king started to visit that person, always hiding his true identity. The king was happy, but his happiness did not last long. One day, a seer came to visit the king.

–

“You are not in that person's destiny, God of the Dead Idia. They have different life cycles in their thread of destiny. However, if you want, I can give you the thread. If you cut the thread, their fate will be like an unclear water. You can shape it the way you want and even be completely you in their destiny. ” said the god of prophecy. And he handed the thread to Idia.

Idia hesitantly took the thread. Could he really cut this thread, which symbolizes the happy future of his beloved, because of his own greed? But if he cut it, he would be the fate of his beloved.

Idia would visit the mortal you every day but that week he didn’t.He locked himself in his room and just thought about what he should do with the thread.

–

And the king finally gave in to his greed and cut the thread.

–

“Oh Idia, where have you been? I was very scared that something bad had happened.” You said while hugging him.

You were very worried when you didn't hear from him for a week.

“I brought pomegranates. From my own garden.” Idia said as he handed you a basket full of pomegranates.

“You are forgiven. I like pomegranates.”

After that, Idia started bringing you pomegranates every time he came. The pomegranate was Delicious, juicy, sweet... but slowly your health began to deteriorate. Headaches, coughing blood, nightmares... You only felt good when you were with Idia.

But how could you know that the pomegranates are from the underworld’s garden? If a god or a spirit eats it, nothing will happen, but if a human eats it... they start to die slowly. First headaches and nightmares, then they begin to see spirits that humans cannot see, and eventually they die.

“Agh!” You screamed in pain. Your heart was tightening and it hurt like crazy, like you were being stabbed.

Idia came running to you.He had a dark liquid in his hand. Pomegranate juice.

“Y/n, are you okay, are you having an attack again?” He helped you get up. He placed you on your bed.

“Oh gods,” you groaned.

“Here, drink some. It will make you feel better..” Idia said and handed you pomegranate juice.

“No… no I don't want to.” You said.

“Come on, for your health.” insisted Idia.

“Just one sip.”

Idia helped you drink. It was sour. Then you couldn't breathe and you closed your eyes. You dropped the glass full of pomegranate juice. It was spilled on you.It looked just like blood.

You were dead.

"I am sorry…I'm sorry for loving you. But I had to. I’m sorry, Y/n.” Idia said with a shaky voice and hugged your dead body.

–

“Then they lived happily ever after .” said Ortho and finished the story.

"How was it? It’s good isn’t it? This is my favorite fairy tale. My brother told me.” Said Ortho

But Y/n didn't answer.

“Come on, it's late, let's take you back.” Said the Spirit.

“So early?” The boy whined. He took the spirit's hand and they moved towards the exit under the soul’s leadership.

“Um Y/n I was going to ask you something. Will you come to us tomorrow? I don't know if I'll find you next time.” said Ortho innocently.

“No…I'm sorry Ortho, but I can't leave this garden, but if you want to come again, come with your brother.” Said the Spirit sadly, as if something tying them to this garden.

And they said goodbye again.

“So? How was your day?" Idia asked his little brother.

“Good, as I said before, I made a new friend. There I was with them and I told them my favorite story." Ortho explained with excitement.

“Is that so…by the way, what was your friend's name?”

Idia asked.

“It’s Y/n.”

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst #idia shroud #yandere idia shroud #twisted wonderland idia #idia x reader #twst idia

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stalkerofthegods · 4 months ago

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Lord Hades deep dive

Herbs • cypress, mint, myrrh, patchouli, bay, pumpkin, yew, wormwood, cinnamon, lavender, willow, oak, marigold, dandelion, rose, lily, daisies, rowan, poppy, daffodils, calendulas, salt and spices, Cypress, white asphodel, mint, narcissus

Animals• Dogs (Cerberus, specifically), black lambs, serpents, screech owls, black sheep, black bulls, moths (reincarnation, cycle of life),

Zodiac • Autumn (dry becoming cold) – Earth – Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn, Winter (cold becoming wet) – Water – Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces.

Colors • Black, grey, silver, gold

Crystal• hematite, onyx, obsidian, onyx, black tourmaline, jet

Symbols• precious jewels and money, drinking horn, Sceptre, Keys, Helm of darkness, night-time, autumn and winter, caves, mines, forests, crossroads, cemeteries, cornucopia, shovels (digging of graves, digging into dirt)

Jewelry you can wear in their honor• gold, silver, rubies, emeralds, anything metal and expensive due to his wealth and stone aspects. Any stones or metals. you can veil in muted colors in his honor.

Diety of• stones, metals, wealth, the underworld, 'winter; funeral rites.

Patron of• the underworld, stones, gems, crystals.

Offerings• honey, milk, shells or bones of animals, oolong and black tea, bread, and cake, apples, pomegranates, meat, especially lamb meat, he likes oils, like olive oil and such, a drinking horn, Black mirrors, Black cloth, dirt, dirt from commentaries, garlic, baked goods, sharp cheeses, money, family heirlooms, pomegranate mead/rum, black coffee, Statues or art of Cerberus, small fossils, art is drawn or for him, Shredded snakeskin, owl/vulture feathers., sheded dog fur (good origin hair, no stealing/shaving ur dog simply to give it to him), scales (balance scales), cornucopia, coins,

Devotional• saving money, spending responsibly, donating to charities for the dead, cleaning graveyards and gravestones (properly, respectfully, with permission for both the dead and the owners of the property), Offerings to the dead, as well as money to the spirits of the dead to let them pass on, collecting expensive jewels and crystals/stones, making an altar to tend dead spirits, Studying other cultures’ burial methods and cemetery rites, do a job for cementary, do mortuary or funeral services as a job (for the summer, or for how long u want in his honor), treat spirits kindly and help them move on, do ancestral worship, worship your land spirits in his honor, growing deathly plants (safely), writing poetry/stories for him, donate to those who can't afford a funeral, help with funerals, donate to suicide prevention organizations (that are trustworthy), donate to dog shelters, walk dogs in his honor, work at a dog shelter or babysitting dogs in his honor, visit caves that let you mine for stones/gems, make a playlist for him and hum/sing it in his honor, start a coin collection,

Ephithets• ‘Renowned’, ‘Good Counsellor’, ‘the Beautiful‐haired One’, ‘Of Good Repute’, ‘Leader of the People’, ‘Lord over All’, ‘Receiver of Many’, ‘Host to Many’ and Pluton (‘Wealth’).

Equivalents (alike but not the same)• Pluto, Dis Pater, Orcus

They are reaching out• seeing dead animals or funeral symbols, seeing his symbols everywhere, smelling pomegranates, getting more job opportunities. He and his wife are usually a package deal.

Vows/omans• taking care of the underworld, marriage vows

Number• 6 (not seeing his wife for 6 months, then seeing her for 6 months), and commonly associated with death

Morals• lawfully neutral

Courting• Lady Persephone

Past lovers/crushes• Leuce, Minthe, Theophile

Personality• Like a working dad hanging up your macaroni on his desk, he is very formal and has a sweet spot.

Home• hades/hadestown (he lives in the underworld but is allowed up to Mount Olympus

Mortal or immortal • immortal

Fact• Due to being a Cathonic god you cannot eat after them, you dispose of offerings into water into the ground, and him and his wife Persephone are usually together.

Curses• being broke, losing money, being unable to pass on, losing your job.

Blessings• more money, getting more job opportunities, getting more money.

Roots• "the unseen" which An extensive section of Plato's dialogue 'Cratylus' is devoted to the etymology of the god's name, the 'unseen one', in which Socrates is arguing for a folk etymology not from "unseen" but from "his knowledge (eidenai) of all noble things", you can see he originated from the greek region.

Friends• Persephone, Zeus, Poseidon, Hestia, hermes, Artemis, Apollo, Athena, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, all the Olympians

Parentage• Cronos, Rhea

Siblings• Zeus, Poseidon, Demeter, Hera, and Hestia.

Pet• Cerberus, in his chariot four black steeds Orphnaeus (savage and fleet), Aethon (swifter than an arrow), great Nyctaeus (proud glory of Hell's steeds), and Alastor (branded with the mark of Dis).

Children • Macaria, and in some cases Zagreus, Dionysus, and the Erinyes

Appearance in astral or gen• black hair, crown, kings coat, with a beard and with his scepter

Festivals • Halloween, The Chthonia Fertility Rites

Season • fall, winter

Day • Saturday, Tuesday, or Monday would be good, but he doesn't have an official day.

Status• King of the underworld, an olympion.

What angers them• disrespect to their family (wife, kids, etc), insulting the dead, messing with graveyards

The music they like• he likes old-timey, death music, I was listening to a playlist and there was a lot of goth music!

Planet• pluto

Tarot cards• death, the devil (and personally the chariot and the emperor)

Reminds me of• hot coca, death, dirt, bones, dead animals on the road, and goths.

Scents/Inscene • Cypress, amber, pomegranate, and winter scents

Prayers•

Great Hades, master of the dark afterworld, honored host of our beloved dead, husband of fair-haired Persephone, holder of the riches of the deep earth, eldest son of full-hearted Rhea and Cronus of the shining sickle, I praise you. Hades, kind one, unyielding one, gracious granter of respite to the suffering, of welcome to those who have passed from our world, I thank you for your gift of shelter and hospitality.

Noble Hades, lord of the afterworld, upon your head the shining helm that veils the one it crowns in darkness, within your grasp the fearful staff with which you split the world asunder. Hades, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Hades, holder of all the wealth within the world, yours are all the priceless treasures buried in the earth’s deep bones, the silver and the gold, the copper and the iron, the many-colored gems. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Within your realm, O Hades, are treasures too of life and abundance. The precious seeds of fruit and grain, the soft black soil that clings to root and leaf, without these gifts would mankind fail to flourish. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Kindly host of the dead, receiver of all who pass from the earth into your deep, abyssal realm, granter of rest for the weary, sweet reunion for those too long parted by your well-wrought gates. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Fair-minded Hades, even-handed one who holds in hand the lot of all whose earthly lives have ended. The greatest of kings, the lowest of beggars, all receive reward or sanction by your will. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings.

Great Hades, master of the darkened deep, master of the realm beneath our feet who hears the echoes of our steps, who takes the echoes of our lives. Hades, you know the need for an end to life, you know the worth of a well-deserved rest, you know the thanks of men and women weary from long lives of worry and toil, you know the joy of sweet reunion as friends long parted join together once again within your storied land. The dim and misty underworld is yours, O Hades; yours are the Fields of Asphodel, yours the endless pits of Tartarus in which are cast the wicked and the vile. Yours too are the Fortunate Isles, the land of fair Elysium where dwell the righteous and the good. Hades, the receiver of burnt offerings, receiver of the blood of beasts, well-honored god: in the end, all come to you. Hades, I praise you.

Great-hearted Hades, lord of the afterworld, noble husband of gracious Persephone, daughter of the earth who shares your golden throne; advocate of the dead whose wrath falls on those who deny them due burial, or whose dishonor endures beyond the grave. Relentless Hades, agent of vengeance, friend of the Furies, long is your arm, long your memory. Lord of riches, lord of wealth, yours is the abundance of the depths, the cold, unyielding treasure of metal and stone; yours is the black dirt turned by the plow each spring, the sun-warmed soil that hides the seed. Hades, dark-haired son of Kronos, ruler of the world beyond us, inevitable host of men and women and all, I thank you for your care of those who have passed; I praise you, I honor you, I revere your name.

Due to him being a Chthonic deity here are tips for worship• You can do water in the ground, I'd personally light incense in his honor, over dirt, and let the ashes fall into the water in his honor. You can throw offerings into water into a pit in the dirt for him, in front of statues offerings were left at his feet. if you have no backyard, or any place to dispose of dirt, I'd get a bag of dirt and place offerings in it then throw it out (make him aware of it, with respect.), Offerings are often buried, poured down the drain, or into the trash (This is done to ‘complete’ the offering.), please NEVER eat after him or anything associated with him other than Kore (Persephone's overworld name, ONLY her overworld aspect),

I know he was offered blood, but please don't unless you're a devotee of Mimmum of 5 years!! that is offering your source of life and it has to be sterile and everything and is VERY VERY sacred, you're offering your life to him, so please make sure to do research and have someone help you if you do decide to.

Links/websites/sources • https://www.tumblr.com/h-x-d-e-s/190189758200/on-worshipping-hades# https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Astrology_and_the_classical_elements#:~:text=Spring%20(wet%20becoming%20hot)%20%E2%80%93,Water%20%E2%80%93%20Cancer%2C%20Scorpio%2C%20Pisces https://www.britannica.com/topic/Hades-Greek-mythology https://www.worldhistory.org/Hades/ https://www.worldhistory.org/Hades/ https://www.oxfordreference.com/display/10.1093/oi/authority.20111010143853768#:~:text=Epithets%20which%20euphemistically%20address%20his,Pluton%20('Wealth'). https://www.reddit.com/r/Hades/comments/17yhisn/offerings_to_hades/?rdt=60435 https://www.tumblr.com/twelfthremedy/625927031204577280/hades-offerings https://asklepiad-apollon.tumblr.com/post/182810115143/historically-accurate-offerings-to-the-theoi-buthttps://www.reddit.com/r/pagan/comments/khc513/it_makes_me_sad_that_hades_doesnt_have_a_festival/ https://greekpagan.com/tag/hades/

I use resources, I do not own the info, and most deep dives have UPG (that I use in my work.) And I only take some information from sources. I am 14, this is my hobby, I am learning but I spent many hours and days on this, and I am always open to criticism. I have been doing worship for 5 years. Please know you can use the info, I do not sue, but I will take action if this work is used without permission and not put as a resource if used in any work. without permisson and not put as a resource if used in any work, for the public.

#hellenic polytheism #hellenic devotion #the gods #hellenic worship #greek mythology #doing the research for you #greek gods #ancient greek #greek pantheon #hellenic #hades deity #hades and persephone #hade and persephone #persephone

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al0v3w1tch · 2 months ago

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⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ Lord Hades… Today is Lord Hades’ worship day, so I want to share information about him in honor of Him. 𖤐 Who is Hades? Hades is the oldest son of the Titans Cronus and Rhea, God of the dead, hidden wealth of the Earth, and King of the Underworld; He is widely known to have been the protector of funerals and defended the rights of the dead due to their burial. His most famous myths are the abduction of his wife, Persephone, and Him being consumed by his father alongside His other four siblings. 𖤐 Mythology. After being consumed by His father and then saved by His brother, Zeus, Hades fought alongside His siblings to take Cronus down as well as the other Titans; when they received victory, Zeus ruled over the other Gods, Poseidon ruled the sea and Hades ruled over the dead; He named His domain after Himself and has Charon transport the dead to the Underworld as long as they leave a coin offering for the ferryman. After a while of ruling the Underworld, Hades became desperate for a wife and went to his brother Zeus to ask for His consent to marry His and Demeter’s daughter, Persephone. When given the right, Hades visited Persephone in the Overworld and abducted her while she was gathering flowers in a field; after Her abduction, Her mother, Demeter, searched far for Her daughter, and with the help of the sun God, Helios, Demeter had found out where Her daughter was kept. When she confronted Zeus about the ordeal, He sent the messenger God, Hermes, down to the Underworld to talk to Hades about letting Persephone go free. The God agreed but before Persephone left, Hades had snuck pomegranate seeds into the Goddesses mouth, due to this; Hades and Demeter made a pact of Persephone would be in the Overworld with her mother for half the year and then be with her husband for the rest. Hades also had involvement with the Greek heroes Theseus and Pirithous who are known for kidnapping Helen of Troy when she was only twelve as the duo wanted to marry the daughters of Zeus. After Helen’s kidnapping, Pirithous decided he wanted to marry Persephone so they traveled to the Underworld to try and pursue the Goddess; when Hades found out about their plan, He welcomed them in with gentle hospitality but when the two tried to leave their seats, they were stuck down to them by coils of serpents. They were trapped in the Underworld until Heracles attempted to save them, he only succeeded with Theseus as when he tried to save Pirithous, the ground shook under them so Theseus and Heracles had to leave the man behind. 𖤐 Symbols, Offerings, and Altar. Symbols: - Dogs (Cerberus), black lambs, serpents, and screech owls. - Precious jewels, money, and minerals. - Cypress, white asphodel, mint, and narcissus. - Drinking horn. - Scepter. - Key. - Helm of Darkness. - Black, grey, silver, and gold colours. - Nighttime. - Autumn and Winter. - Cemeteries, crossroads, forests, and caves. Offerings: - Coins. - Stones (Dark, jagged stones work). - Alcohol (Wine specifically). - Honey. - Milk or Water. - Tobacco. - Herbs: cypress, mint, myrrh, patchouli, bay, pumpkin, yew, wormwood, cinnamon, lavender, willow, oak. - Flowers: marigold, dandelion, rose, lily, daisies, rowan, poppy, daffodils, calendulas. - Oils (Olive oils and kinds of vinegar work). - Salts and spices. - Shells or bones. - Tea (Black). - Breads or cakes. - Fruits (apples and pomegranates). - Meat (especially Lamb). - Incenses: frankincense, myrrh, wormwood, sandalwood, cinnamon, rose, pomegranate. - Black, grey, and silver candles.

𖤐 Prayers. -Great Hades, master of the dark afterworld, Honored host of our beloved dead, Husband of fair-haired Persephone, Holder of riches of the deep earth, Eldest son of full-hearted Rhea and Cronus of the shining sickle,

I praise you. Hades, kind one, unyielding one, gracious granter of respite to the suffering, Of welcome who have passed from our world, I thank you for your gift of shelter and hospitality. -Great-hearted Hades, Lord of the Afterworld, Noble husband of gracious Persephone, daughter of the earth who shares your golden throne; Advocate of the dead whose wrath falls on those who deny them due burial, or whose dishonor endures beyond the grave.

Relentless Hades, agent of vengeance, friend of the Furies, long is your arm, long your memory.

Lord of riches, lord of wealth, Yours is the abundance of the depths, the cold, unyielding treasure of metal and stone; Yours is the black dirt turned by the plow each spring, the sun-warmed soil that hides the seed.

Hades, dark-haired son of Kronos, ruler of the world beyond us, inevitable host of men and women, I thank you for your care of those who have passed; I praise you, I honor you, I revere your name. -(Can be used with prayer beads).

Hades, great of glory, great of might,

I pray to you.

Ruler of your full share of the world,

I pray to you, O God.

Holder of indescribable wealth,

I pray to you, O God.

Lord of all who have walked this earth,

I pray to you, O God.

Yours are the riches beneath solid stone,

I pray to you, O God.

Yours is the gift of prosperity,

I pray to you, O God.

Yours is the hall that holds all we have loved,

I pray to you, O God.

Granter of fortune to those who live,

I pray to you, O God.

Giver of peace to those who have passed,

I pray to you, O God.

May I find the good your blessings bring,

I pray to you, O God.

May I see your hand within the world,

I pray to you, O God.

May I know your favor, hear your call,

I pray to you, O God.

May I honor your art and praise your works,

I pray to you, O God.

Hades, great of glory, great of might,

I pray to you. 𖤐 Blessed be.

#paganism #hellenicpaganism #pagan #hellenic pagan #witch #witchcraft #aphrodite #hades #persephone #dionysus #hestia #greek deities #hellenic polytheism #hades worship #witchcore #witchblr

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crowandthefics · 5 months ago

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Ethan and the gets summoned

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Nico tossed the funfettie cake into the hole he’d made to summon the dead. He said the incantation and a very confused ghost appeared.

“What when how where who DREW WHERES MY SISTER,” the ghost said in a confused panic, spinning around and screaming.

“Ethan nakamura,” nico spoke calmly.

“It’s Tanaka-nakamura, everyone gets it wrong!” Ethan stopped spinning for a second and screamed, “AHHHHH I can’t see!”

Nico was dumbfounded. This was the great lieutenant that alabaster spoke so highly of?

“…yeah, you’re missing your eyes.”

“Thank you I couldn’t see, why the fuck am I here also where is here also who are you?” Ethan asked in rapid succession.

“I summoned you to talk about someone. Here is a forest. And I am Nico di Angelo, son of hades.”

“Who are you here to talk about?” Ethan asked.

“Alabaster Torrington, he’s a friend of mine,” Nico responded.

“Fucking lies, alabaster hates everyone,” Ethan says.

“Tell me what you know about him,” Nico says.

“No.”

“There’s funfettie cake if you talk.”

Ethan sighed. “What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you got,” Nico responded.

“Well, he was a general in the Titian army. He hates everything and everyone last I checked. Absolutely fucking ruthless. When I met him I thought I was Ruthless, but he was on a whole other level. I’ve watched him feed living half bloods to monsters and kill people without a second thought. Uhm- he tends to overwork himself. He’ll use so much magic at once and collapse from exhaustion. Fucking mamas boy he is, Hecate could tell him to go to Tartarus and he would. All around pretty lovely,” Ethan rambled.

Nico took a moment to make sense of all the information. “Is that everything?”

“If you wanted to know everything about alabaster we’d be here for hours,” Ethan responded. “Can I have the cake now?”

Nico sighed and nodded before remembering Ethan couldn’t see, “yes, to your left.”

Ethan located the cake and ate it.

Nico couldn’t help but wonder, this goofy ghost who didn’t appear to know what he was doing was the ruthless Ethan nakamura? Nico had seen him during battles and heard much from alabaster, but meeting him, he wasn’t the great warrior he’d expected. He was just another half blood.

Nico watched the ghost fade away back to the fields of asphodel. After all he had heard and seen about the boy, he silently wondered how much this boy deserved asphodel.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Silly little fic!

I don’t ship Nico and alabaster romantically, but those two are platonic soulmates definitely

Ethan and alabaster are totally ex boyfriends, but like still besties

Can’t write an Ethan fic without dribbling Tanaka/nakamura siblings in

#ethan nakamura #pjo hoo toa #ethabaster #platonic ethabaster #platonic Nicobaster #nicobaster #nico di angelo

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thebreezyslothstudios · 2 months ago

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Demo of The Rerooting of an Asphodel!

After around a month we made it on time to submit to Monstrous Desires and we can't be more thankful for our wonderful team 💖

Like gray morality + otome + touch of fantasy & horror?

#visual novel #amare #otomedev #dark fantasy #dark romance #josei #otome

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ghostking-nico-diangelo · 9 months ago

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"you promised you would protect her!" I screamed. After Percy and the rest arrived back at camp I ran up to the big house to ask him about Bianca. He went on a walk with me and told me the truth...

My head was spinning, that couldn't be real, I was just starting to accept the fact that I would barely see her and then...I would never see her again. "She wanted you to have this" Percy pulled a Mysthomagic figure out of his jacket. I grabbed it and starred at it. I couldn't believe it. It was Hades...the only one I didn't had. Percy talked about Bianca, how she sacrificed herself. I didn't really listen, just one thought was in my mind. My new hero, my game brought to life, lied to me and let my only family die. I smashed the figure while I screamed even louder "I shouldn't have trusted you!" I gasped, the air felt so thin. I remembered all the weird and terrifying nightmares I had since I got here. "You lied to me!!! My nightmares were right!" Percy made a helpless step towards me while he asked "What nightmares?" "I hate you!" I screamed I started to shake, my eyes were filled with tears. He said something about that she may be alive and then I felt it. Deep down inside me for a blink I saw her standing in the fields of Asphodel in front of her, the judges.

"She is dead-" I blinked one more time but the image was gone. "I should've known it earlier. She is standing before the judges right now being evaluated! I can feel it" I did. I felt every bit of it. Her soul, leaving this side of the world even more.

"What do you mean you can feel it?" Percy asked. Then everything escalated, skeleton warriors attacked us. Percy told me to get help. For a stupid reason I thought he was trying to kill me. I started to scream and cover my ears and stomped. The ground opened up and sucked the skeletons in. I cried even more.

Percy asked me something again. My feelings went wild. I was angry, sad, exhausted, scared and alone. "Go away!!! I hate you! I wish you were dead" I yelped while I was running into the forest. I didn't ran long, I stumbled and fell. Deep down into a hole....Everything went black

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moriphyte · 1 year ago

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first time wilbur ever saw dream kill a crow for fun he full out jumped him. it did NOT go well for him but still. tommy got his love for animals from somewhere, wilbur just has different favorites.

#foa #forest of asphodel #dream kicked his scrawny pacifist ass obviously #but tommy came to the rescue to also get his ass beat

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toadlett · 1 year ago

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A comic today for #repostober! this is a short comic about peat for an environmental-themed anthology that sadly never ended up happening.

ID/ comic script:

PAGE 1 (5 panels)

1. close on a mound of sphagnum

CAPTION: There it is again, that singing.

2. look up, see the expanse of the peat bog, the sky above, a mountainside.

CAPTION: Liquid, urgent, rising as it drops, a bright thread trembling, spun out of thin air.

3. close in on tiny bird flying and singing.

CAPTION: Ah, a there it is! A skylark.

4. back down to the sphagnum. Big panel, show a pool nearby maybe, asphodel and sundew and green stars of butterwort.

CAPTION: There is so much life here, tiny and bright.

5. series of small panels of newts, orchids, sundew plants, blue butterflies.

CAPTION: The air tastes sharp. All things struggle.

PAGE 2 (5 panels)

1. cross-section a sphagnum mound, if possible collage in real moss scanned in. fading down into thick dark peat.

CAPTION: The sphagnum lays down a history of everything that ever grew here. Pollen, tissue, documenting thousands of years. In a good year they might create half an inch of peat. Here, it is metres thick.

2. indistinct shape in the murk, humanoid.

CAPTION: Cold, acid and airless, tannin-cured, tea-stained. Sometimes, not just plants are offered to me.

3. blackness, maybe imprinted with leaf impressions – play around with ink and collage.

CAPTION: The smell of it is oak and smoke, whiskey, myrtle, bitter, icy and rich.

4. the blackness cut and segmented, stacked neatly, a person working on it with primitive tools.

CAPTION: They used to cut it, press the caramel-coloured water from it, and dry it to burn in their hearths, keep them warm through long winters.

5. see an empty, skeletal crofter’s cottage, a square scar on the hillside.

CAPTION: The scars they left in the moors are still there, centuries after they were driven from their homes. I watch bracken grow in their crofts. The glacial creep of lichen over hearthstones.

PAGE 3 (6 panels)

1. a modern garden centre, sacks of peat compost in rows.

CAPTION: They still cut it, though, faster than ever. Drain the land for farming or forest, more lucrative landscapes. Burn the peat or mix it into compost to grow prettier plants than my milkworts, sundews, orchids.

2. someone buying flowers at the supermarket, a bunch of tulips.

CAPTION: They used to stack it high to last through the winter. Something crueller and longer than any winter is coming, and every mile they drain or dig belches more carbon than can be replaced in centuries.

3. back to an asphodel flower, a bed of sphagnum.

CAPTION: It’s so difficult for them to see the consequences.

CAPTION (another voice): Yes, but they are realising.

4. open up, the whole red moorland hillside.

CAPTION: A third of the planet’s soil carbon held in peat. An archive they are just learning to read.

5. open up further, to the mountain.

CAPTION: They’re running out of time. I feel the change in my mosses, the seasons stretch and warp,.

6. the whole range of mountains.

CAPTION: One thing they have always been, these tiny, frantic creatures, is quick.

CAPTION: Quick to tear things apart,

CAPTION: But quick to learn as well.

CAPTION: I hope you’re right.

ENDNOTE CAPTION: You can help protect peat bogs by using peat-free compost in your garden, avoiding greenhouse-grown produce such as cut flowers unless they are peat-free, and choosing a renewable energy supplier!

#repostober #comic #peat bog #scottish wildlife #moorland #environmental #climate change

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ruinsofxerxes · 1 year ago

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Hello!!! I am new to FMA and I just followed! I looove reading fics especially angsty/darker fics, so you have any recommendations?

Hi!!! First off, I have to tell you how unbelievably HAPPY it makes me to hear people are still getting into fma!!! <333 Welcome :DDD And second, you have excellent taste, angsty fics are my favorite too! Enjoy these :D

#some of these are dark and angsty....some are less dark and more angsty.....all are GOOD #GODDDDDDD I NEED TO REREAD SOME OF THESE SOON!!!!#i'm getting all hyped just reminiscing about how good these are lmao #fanfics #ask #anonymous #im straight up about to go read some of these now as bedtime stories good night!!!

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