#i will draw out what it was like to have this revelation and it will probably be very funny for all of you

[timeforaneclipse]

Falling Apart (Lilia Calderu x reader)

Chapter four

Available on AO3

Warnings? - Light smut

 Lilia blinked. How was she off the road? Where even was she? She had a cup of herbal tea by her side. The divination witch brought it to her nose and sniffed it. Scanning her eyes around the room, the curly haired woman stared at the fire. it was a cosy set up. Homely. But far out of her price range and that made her wonder. Suddenly she felt a head nestled against her neck. She jumped and the figure behind her gave a soft throaty chuckle. Lilia turned her head so that she she could see the figures face. Her mouth fell open. It was you. Snuggling against the older witch like it was merely habit. Lilia could smell the perfume coming from you. "It's nearly time... again." You frowned in a purr and wrapped your arms around her. "I'm certain you enjoy it more then I do." You smirked smugly and kissed her neck. Lilia found herself smiling... Enjoying the gentleness of it. 

As Lilia leaned into your light touches, your eyes changed into that gorgeous golden colour that made her swoon. But your didn't turn into slits, in fact they were rather wide. Almost as if you were admiring her in this state. She felt your claw-like fingers dig in to her slightly. "Minnie." You paused, walking around the chair to face the divination witch. You lowered and sat on her legs. Stroking her cheek, Your eyes returned to normal and you softened. Lilia opened her mouth then closed it. You tilted your head. Confused by her hesitance. 

The older witch fixed your glasses and you leaned into her extended touch. Welcoming it. "We can stop. Watch a movie? Cuddle instead?" You started to list off various ways to spend the evening. But you didn't seem disappointed. You seemed happy. Lilia laughed suddenly and kissed your lips. You were silenced. You leaned in and your demeanour changed once more. Almost becoming predatory and Lilia caught herself revelling in it. Your mouth travelled to her neck. Sharp fangs trailed along her pale flesh. Heat pooled in her stomach. Your eyes stayed trained on her face. Looking for any kind of regret or hesitance. Lilia bit her lips shut as her hands pulled her on your thick locks, trying to suppress her moans. Smirking smugly, you bit deep in her her neck. Drawing a little bit of blood. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she let out a weakened yelp of your name. Your rough tongue licked away the sweet red liquid. "I think we can both agree I'm better then a vampire." Lilia smirked at your smug comment and gently guided your chin towards her. She kissed you, slightly desperate. Her fingers weaved their way out of your hair and towards your light purple dress. Unbuttoning it. 

When Lilia reopened her eyes, everything changed. Everyone in the coven was staring at her. Why? What just happened. Her eyes were incredibly glazed over and she blinked in away. She noticed your hands were on her elbows. Holding her upright. Your brows were tight and your eyes were full of concern. When she looked back at the group she noticed the mix of judgemental and pitiful looks. "Lilia?" You whisper her name softly, drawing her attention to you. The older woman didn't bother to mask her confusion. "Are you alright? You stopped walking then... yelped my name? Did something bad happen? Do you remember?" You questioned slowly. Carefully. Trying not to overwhelm the older woman. 

Lilia swallowed and grounded herself. "Pardon?" She asked, beyond confused and Agatha groaned in annoyance. Your head snapped in her direction as you glared daggers at the woman. Agatha waved you off. "I... do not remember." Lilia managed out. It was the truth. She couldn't remember.. it was just blank. And it frustrated her. You gave a tight smile. Telling Lilia is was okay. 

"Okay!? It's not okay! She could have seen something terrible and our only clue is your name!" Jennifer snapped and stormed towards you without thinking. You glare and stand straight ready to defend the older woman behind you. Agatha bit the inside of her cheeks. As much as she hated to admit it. Jennifer had a point. Lilia had yelped your name specifically. What if you were in danger? She glanced a Rio. Eyes almost begging. Rio held her gaze. But didn't react. it was almost chocking. "It's not my fault, dopey here can't remember." She said lowly. Agatha laughed at her comment. 

"Say that again, Kale, and I'll turn you into a mushroom next." You snapped at the potions witch. Jennifer stared wide eyed as you got defensive. "I pity you, Jennifer." Your hiss cut through her. Everyone went quiet. The threat of being turned into mushroom is something that would usually make one laugh. But seeing what you did to those goblins still played in their heads. Lilia also stared wide eyed at your threat. And just like that.. The group continued walking. You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding. "Come on.." You hummed at the older witch. Walking by your side, The older woman stayed close. Alice joined your huddle and the three of you walked in a line. You could see the next trial in view. You shared a glance with Lilia. But before anyone could continue, Alice walked off. Clearly not wanting to go into that house. "Alice!" You called after her but the younger witch didn't listen. Agatha chased after the young protection witch while you stood like a fool. 

The group followed after Agatha and Alice but the road led back to the next trial... Like magic. You suddenly felt nervous. No escape. Agatha shrugged as she slowly began to walk down the road. You took a deep breath and followed your old mother figure. As you approached the doors of the house. You glanced around as Agatha talked about the moon on the door. "The fire phase." Teen announced and you fiddled with your rings. Alice looked incredibly nervous. You softened and watched the young witch. Agatha opened the door and walked inside. You gave Alice's arm a gentle squeeze before walking inside. You gasped once you looked at your clothes. You were no longer covered in sticky green blood and you felt fresh. You smiled. Feeling clean. You then looked to your clothing. You were wearing fur coat and a flowy dress. Your heels were high. Almost to high to walk in. "Don't eat anything. Don't drink anything. Don't touch anything." Alice ordered. Rio smirked. 

Agatha wasted no time in looking in the mirror. "Check me out!" She grinned as she checked herself up and down in the mirror. You stared for a moment. Lilia did not look like herself. Her hair was cut short and was pitch black. She wore a silver jump suit that hugged her curves with a yellow covering. Her neckline was a low v that showed the slightest bit of cleavage and wore jewellery that looked like diamonds.  You felt your cheeks heat up the more you looked the older witch over. It suited her. She looked beautiful. Lilia noticed you staring and were quick to look away, clearing your throat. 

"I mean, we're an album cover waiting to happen." Teen hummed, impressed. You glanced at the teenager. Cringing at his hair. 

Lilia smiled at the boy. "The road changes for the coven." She figured. Rio grinned like mad woman as she asked what was to happen next. You glanced at the divination witch and watched as her smile fell. "A test." she answered with little emotion. Rio rolled her eyes and looked Lilia up down. Catching your attention. 

Teen quickly raised his hand "Ooh!" He brightened, clearly having an idea in mind while drawing the attention of the coven. "I was just thinking about the invite on the mantel, maybe there is like a riddle or kick off for this one too?" He thought and he wasn't half wrong. It was a decent suggestion. And with that in mind, you walked around looking for any clues. Your brows furrowed as you noticed Lilia staring at the windows... Windows that held images of dark torture done to your kind and any believed to be your kind for centuries. Slowly you approached the older woman as she stopped in front of a certain window and stared at it. Joining her side, you didn't dare speak a single word. Your ear buzzed when the older woman whimpered and looked away from the sight. You watched her, sorrow in your gaze as she wiped away a tear. 

You took in a deep breath. "Life can be cruel." You whispered in an attempt to comfort her. But the older woman didn't respond. Thinking you might have over stepped. You took a step away from Lilia and went to walk away. 

"Don't." You stared at her for a moment but she didn't look at you. You question whether you really heard the words or if it was just your imagination. You approached her and stood close. Without warning, her hand fell into yours. You stilled. Unsure of how to react until you gently gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. You wouldn't leave. You would stay until she asked you to leave. Hopefully that would not be soon because for the first time in a long while, both your mind and hers felt at peace. But peace was short lived as Agatha snapped your name. You rolled your eyes. Sighing, You let go of Lilia's hand. Giving the older woman an apologetic look as you left to find Agatha. 

Lilia watched you go with her lips in a thin tight line. Sparing one last look at the window, Lilia walked off to see if she could find anything of use. Suddenly, she lost her balance and gripped onto the wall. The world felt like it was spinning. Lilia's hands her no longer gripping the wall but flesh. She jumped back in shock. Her eyes widened as she stared at her.. Unusual position. You were laying beneath her, your wrists tied above your head. She noticed the deep scratch marks on her back. Bleeding ever so slowly. Had you done those? "Lilia?" You ask in a curious tone, you eyes full of worry. Lilia swallowed, staring at your bare chest and shoulders. Heat glowing from her cheeks. She run her hands over the dark red marks. You raised and eyebrow. "Admiring your work?" You laughed and teased. Lilia softened and leaned over you, stroking your cheek. Confused by the sudden change in your lover, you leaned in her gentle touch. "Lilia?" You questioned only to be shut up by a deep kiss. You melted. You struggled momentarily against the bindings against your wrists. The urge to touch her overwhelming.

The older witch smirked into your kiss. Enjoying your desperation "Easy, Kitten, you'll hurt yourself." She whispered in your ear then nibbled your neck. A moan escaped your lips. Lilia's eyes remained soft despite what she was doing to you and that had you hooked like a fool. It was dangerous. Lilia marvelled in the fact that there was no Agatha Harkness to take you from her now. There was nothing that evil woman could do about it now to keep you away from her. Her fingers ran down your sides and your back arched up. You had shut your eyes cause the divination witch to pause. "Let me see your eyes, Baby." She urged you to open your eyes. Golden. The colour they would always go when you would have higher level emotions. 

She backed up slightly and made herself comfortable between your legs. You swallowed as her fingers ghost over your thighs as you gasped. So close yet so far from where you had wanted her. A loud slut worthy moan left you when her warm tongue go up your entrance. You hips bucked in your her mouth and she caught your movements quickly. Stilling them. She repeated her licking motion, trying to aim deeper while her fingers teased your clit. You were practically crying her name. "All wet and bothered. So much so that you were forgetting the-" Suddenly the rope snapped. Lilia's eyes widen while you smirked, revealing your large fangs. Cats were often cocky. And you appeared to share the trait. Lilia pulled down on your hair. Exposing your neck. Giving you a look warning in her darkened eyes before kissing you roughly, ignoring your whimpers while her hand messaged your breast.

Suddenly the world was spinning again, she was no longer clutching your marked flesh but a hard cold stone wall. Breathing heavily, the divination witch tried to regain her composure. What... was that. Another vision? But why couldn't she remember? what was important that she would be having so many and not remember? Was she losing her mind? Was everyone right? She took in a deep breath, trying to stop her panting. She straightened and squeezed her eyes shut. There was a trial to complete. She noticed Alice looking at a photo of her mother and approached with a sad smile. Meanwhile, You flicked through some old book that were on the desk. As you did, some speakers went off. You tilted her head and looked up as Rio's voice echoed through the sound waves. "You get your power... and I get my bodies." She spoke seductively. No way in hell. Your nose crinkled. You began to question everything Agatha had planned for you. You glanced at Lilia, Alice and Jennifer. All looking as bewildered as you. 

You glared at the recording room, where Rio and Agatha were. Agatha faked a gasp. "Hey! That's my coven you're talking about!" She shouted. "I'm not that kind of witch anymore!" She ended the speakers. Well, you knew that was a lie. The others rushed forward and demanded an explanation. You frowned and kept your eyes on Agatha as your raised an eyebrow. The older witch faked her shrug. Suddenly there was a shrill scratching nose. Damn your overly sensitive ears. You clutched them as you looked around for the source. You were unable to focus and your head felt incredibly light. You felt your senses bounce around in your body. It was until Agatha was stomping on the record player. You breathed out a sigh of relief but your ears were ringing. 

"We've been cursed." Lilia said serious. Well, Shite. 

--I_I<-)0(->I_I--

Michelle sat by the creak and scrubbed away at the dirty purple skirts Agatha always wore. She ignored the fresh batch of tears running down her cheeks. Huffing annoyed, she thought about little Nickolas scratch. What right had she to mourn? He was Agatha's baby. Not hers. Swallowing thickly she tried to think of other things. Not that sweet little boy whose face was probably being eaten away by the maggots by now. "Michelle." Rio's voice came from behind her. God not her. Anyone but her. Agatha would be furious with her if she dared speak to Rio after what she had done. Rio's brows furrowed when the young woman ignored her. Michelle scrubbed more aggressively. Perhaps if she pretended Rio wasn't there then she's go away. Rio rolled her eyes. "Michelle." She called again before getting no response again. Sighing, Rio took a seat near her.  

Exhausted Michelle took her hands out of the water and rested them on her knees. Rio softened and touched the younger woman's only for her to pull away like Rio had burnt her. It hurt Rio to see both of her witches not wanting her touch. "I'm not supposed to talk to you." The transformation witch sighed, defeated. She then hugged her knees and refused to look Death in the eye. Rio watched at she began to nibble at her nails. A bad habit that she always did when she was nervous. 

"Stop that." She hissed and pulled Michelle's fingers away from her teeth. 

The action also made Michelle accidently look Rio in the eyes. The younger woman held Death's brown gaze. And for the first time, she saw how truly horrible Rio looked. Under her eyes there were bags. Her eyes red from tears. Michelle swallowed as she gently touched Death's cheek. "Why did you do it?" She hissed, tears rolling down her cheeks. Rio's eyes widened and she tried to move away but Michelle had her trapped.

Rio swallowed thickly. "I didn't want to take Nicky." Rio replied looking away, squeezing her eyes shut. 

Michelle scoffed. "I didn't ask if you wanted to, Rio." The younger witch snapped at the original green witch. Her eyes then softened and she released her hold slightly. "I.. just want to understand why? Why give us all this time if you were only going to take it all away!" Michelle exclaimed. Rio stared for a moment, gobsmacked. 

Brown eyes scanned Michelle's face. "It's balance that must be upheld. Death is unavoidable." She began slowly. "Nicky was a still born, Michelle. I gave him as much time as I could without throwing the balance off too much. It was his time since he left Agatha's body." Rio whispered as she thought about the easiest way to explain this to the transformation witch. "Please understand. He was my son too. I never wanted to...." She swallowed.  "I did what I could. I just wish you could both see. I gave Agatha everything. Surely you must see the risk I made for her." Michelle gripped Death's hand tight as she thought about her words. Good god, she was a fool. Slowly Michelle burst into sobs and fell into older woman's body. Why couldn't things just go back to normal. Where it would just be her, Rio, Aggie and Nicky. 

The two sat like that for a short while. Michelle wiped her tears. "You should go before Agatha sees you." The younger woman swallowed. Rio nodded. For now she would leave. Rio spared a kiss on her the forehead. 

--I_I<-)0(->I_I--

Ticking engulfed the air. You glanced nervously over the group. "Does anybody else feel.... Lighter." Lighter? The hell was the younger woman going on about? If anything, you felt heavier. You brows furrowed and your lips became thin as you watched the younger witch roll her shoulders back. You eyed the younger woman then shared a worried glance with Agatha. Then, before you knew it. Without warning, Lilia began to gasp and scream in pain. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up at the sound of the older witch's noises of agony. Without hesitation you quickly went to her side and aided Alice in lowering the screaming woman to the ground.

"IT BURNS!" Lilia cried out. Jennifer screamed at Alice. Ordering her to protect the Divination witch. The smoke coming from Lilia's body made you panic further. You looked to Alice, Eyes pleading. The younger woman bit the inside of her cheeks then grabbed Rio's knife from her hands. Stabbing it into the wooden flooring, Alice began to drag a circle around Lilia while chanting a protection charm in Latin. You watched in horror as Lilia went still once Alice had completed her circle. You knelt to her level and called her name. Lilia groaned as she sat up slightly. Tears in those wise eyes of hers. You gave a gentle worried smile and offered your hands to her. She accepted your gesture, whimpering as you helped her rise to her feel. Staying inside the circle. You ignored Agatha's piercing eyes. 

Teen tried to come up with a solution as Lilia clutched your arms. Her eyes scanning your face. Like she was looking for something. "So breaking a cruse..." He began. "Smudge sticks? A salt bath? What if we locate and reason with the witch that casted the curse?" He hummed his suggestions. Trying to hide his panic. 

Agatha sighed, her defences still up. "Once vengeance is loosened, you can't reel it back in." She explained to the teenager.  "So what do we do?" Teen asked. 

Lilia frowned. "The only way to end a curse is to face it." Lilia turned to look at Alice, you followed her gaze and blinked. Just then, Jennifer also fell as she screamed in utter agony. Your eyes went wide and Lilia's grip on your arm tightened as she watched the scene. Alice was quick to repeat the chant that she did to Lilia to Jennifer. Your nose cringed as you smelt burning flesh. Carving the same protection circle into the floor. Jennifer panted and exclaimed as the burning sensation ended. You breathed heavily and watched it end. Teen was quick to point out the deep horrid scars on Jennifer's shoulders. Lilia tensed and let go of you. "Do I have one too?" She asked worried. 

You raised an eyebrow, utterly confused as you took a step back. Lilia reached for the jumpsuits neckline and pulled it down from the shoulder. You looked her up and down and something clogged in your throat. Her burn was deep. Painful to look at. Lilia looked around everyone's faces. Nervous. Your ears twitched and your eyes flickered from normal to golden. Something was here. Something evil. Your teeth gritted and you tensed. You took a subconscious step back, Feeling in danger. Teen shouted about the backwards record and Alice was quick to check what it was but before she could answer Agatha grabbed her and forced the protection witch to look at her. "It's you, isn't it! You brought it in here, didn't you!?" Agatha growled as she kept herself between Alice and the group, ignoring Teen's protests. 

"I didn't think it was real!" Alice cried, tears welling in her eyes. "I thought it was me! That it's my fault that I can't keep a job, That everything I touch turns to shit." She spoke with a quiver in her voice. You heart swelled the more you listened to Alice's cries. You noticed Jennifer still. Her dark eyes turning soft as Alice spoke. "That I couldn't save her." She breathed deeply then reached to show you all her own scars on her shoulders. Agatha glared at the marks. "I convinced myself that they were birthmarks." You eyed the scars. The scars that matched Lilia's. "Even though she had the same ones." You frown as she referred to her mother. 

Jennifer glared for a moment. "Wait." she frowned, taken aback. "Are we talking about a generational curse?" She asked. 

Lilia was the first to take pity on her. "Oh you poor thing-" But that was short lived and Jennifer interrupted the older woman.

"POOR US!" She spat. "Now we have her family's old ass curse!?" She cried in anger. 

Alice whispered an apology. Her emotions on high. Suddenly, Teen groaned and the wind picked up. Before you knew it the boy was flung in the air, causing you to gasp as he smashed through a recording studio's window. You followed Agatha's lead as she rushed into the studio. You watched wide eyed as the teenager sat up slightly, Alice ran past you and helped him, moving the glass away from him. "Hey." He smiled weakly. "I got attacked by the curse.. does that mean I'm part of the coven?" He hummed with hope in his eyes. "Blessings and burdens alike." Agatha breathed out in relief. She appeared by your side but did nothing more. 

Lilia gave him a strained smile. "Not a lot of blessings with this lot, kid." she hummed and searched the room for your face. You kept looking at the teenager, Unaware of her stare. Agatha noticed though and she did not look overjoyed by the stare. Jennifer shouted. Asking if Teen was okay. Your face tense. She had not left the circle.

Agatha scoffed while leading the group back to the main area. "So what now?" Agatha hissed at the potions witch. "You live in that circle now?" She barked and glared at Jennifer up and down. The potions witch practically nodded along. Rio smirked and leaned into Agatha, asking her what the plan was. Agatha flicked her hair and looked around until her gaze landed on Alice. She was staring at the instruments and suddenly it clicked. "You're right. That's the solution." Agatha pointed out but Alice was quick to disagree. "We have to play Lorna's Ballad." Alice scoffed at her words. "All signs point to a jam session." Agatha shrugged.

Alice looked between you and Lilia. Eyes begging for some sort of help. "What good will it do?" She asked. "The ballad opened the road! We did that. We're here!" She exclaimed, very against singing that song. You sighed and rubbed your forehead. This was giving you a headache. 

"Lorna's version is different though." Teen thought out loud. 

Agatha thought aloud for a moment. Wondering what Lorna wanted from the road. Alice looked confused as the blue eyed woman circled herself. "To save her daughter." Rio hummed as she played with her knife. Making direct eye contact with Agatha. 

Agatha turned to look directly at Alice, her eyes narrowing as she approached the younger woman. "You should have burnt to a crisp years ago but you're still here." The amusement dripped off of her tongue. You frowned. Lovely, Agatha. "Sullen and aimless but alive." You tilted your head as Agatha continued to work out the puzzle. "That's because at any giving moment somewhere, someone is playing that song that you hate so much." Alice's eyes scanned Agatha's face. "Lorna's balled Is a protection spell. It protected you." She hummed. 

Looking around, Lilia's eyes filled with slight hope. "And maybe now it can protect us?" She questioned with a soft eager look. You nodded along with their thought process. It could work. It could protect you all. Agatha panicked as another screech echoed through the air. The curse was angered. You flinched and accidently hissed. Agatha asked who was good at piano then immediately looked at Lilia. Lilia gave a light laugh. "Oh no, no. I studied the zils." She smiled widely. You looked over the older witch as she spoke. Amusement layered in your eyes. "And a little pan flute." Pan flute? You smile gently. Forever intrigued by Lilia's many mysteries. 

Agatha went on to question the group. Getting more and more frustrated with each dismissal until her eyes made an immediate eye contact with you. You swallowed thickly as you avoided eye contact. "I did not waste getting you all those lessons for you to bail on me now, Minerva." She hissed. You glared for a moment. This was fine... "Now pick up an instrument and play!" She snapped. Damn it. Alice had taken her place by the piano, Teen by guitar, Rio on the drums, Jen on bass and Lilia with her zils. You fixed your glasses and tried to relax yourself. "Oooh! Alice." Agatha spoke while fixing the microphone. "Play it right... Play it well and maybe we wont die." You gave Lilia a gentle look, trying to reassure you both. And with that... Alice began to play. 

A few repetitive chords in, Agatha began to yelp in agony. Your eyes widened and you nearly rushed forwards but Lilia grabbed your arm tightly. "Aggie-" You said panicked as she began to burn. Agatha waved you off and you stared gobsmacked as she ordered you all to keep playing. You nearly called her name again but resisted the urge. Agatha began to sing and your brows furrowed in fear as she panted her words.  You began to play while keeping your gaze fixed on the witch that had raised you. 

As the song continued, The curse grew more angered. Biting the inside of your cheeks, you tried to hide your nerves. A yelp went through you as fire scorched up through the walls. "GREAT!? FIRE!" Lilia cried, her fears matching yours. Agatha glared at Alice, commanding her to play like a true witch. As Agatha continued to sing, you kept focus on your instrument. You ears twitched and you gritted your teeth as another shrill screech echoed through the air. Suddenly a smell lurked around the room but the others seemed oblivious to it. You cringed at the smell of metallic blood. What the hell? You scanned each member. Your eyes locked onto Teen's. The boy held your gaze. You tilted your head but didn't immediately notice anything weird. You went back to focus on playing. When you glanced in Lilia's direction, You noticed she had a different percussion instrument and had to blink twice to make sure you won't going mad. 

Alice gasped suddenly and stopped playing. "The curse!" She managed to get out. "I see it. I can see it." She whispered in disbelief as the curse screeched. "I can kill it." She smiled in determination. With those words, Alice began to play and sing once more, raising the song with a key change. Before you knew it, The younger woman's shoulders were on fire. You took a step back in fear. The room suddenly felt ridiculously hot as the fire on Alice's shoulders worsened. Alice finished the song with a perfect belt. The curse suddenly went silent and turned into ash, falling like snow. The ticking ended and everyone let out a sigh of relief. Agatha chuckled, relieved it was gone. The piano then opened, catching you by surprise. "The exit!" She smiled, overjoyed. 

The Teenager smiled but looked deathly pale. "We did it... Yay." He said weakly. Teen's balance wobbled and his eyes rolled back into his head. You were quick to catch the boy before he hit the ground. You looked around his body and noticed the shard of glass. Shit. Your hands immediately went to the wound in a pathetic effort to put pressure of on the wound. The coven began to panic. Agatha most of all. 

Managing to exit the trial, You all made a group effort to carry the teenager over to tree stump and laid him down. Convenient. But you paid little mind to it. You bit the inside of your cheeks as you took the glass shard out of his side. As you did you transfigured into a cloth and held it against the open wound. There was so much blood. You pressed down. Trying to place as much pressure as you could onto the wound. "What else can we do? What else can we do?" Agatha asked in a hurry, Supporting teen's head. 

Lilia fidgeted and tried to offer the blue eyed witch support. "He's young... He's strong." but that was not received well as Agatha wasted no time snapping at the divination witch. Causing the grey haired witch to flinch and retreat momentarily. 

"Don't!" Agatha spat then her gaze fell on Rio. Her tears ran down her cheeks as her eyes softened. Rio tilted her head. seemingly take back by Agatha's vulnerability. "Don't." It was weak.. almost like a beg. "Jen." Agatha sobbed towards the potions witch. "What do you need, Jen? What do you need?" She cried as Jennifer began to debate on the best approach to heal Teen but the potion witch's mind was blank in her shock and panic. "Jen!" Agatha yelled, desperate. Jennifer stammered as she thought. Stammering about water and moonlight. Alice wasted no time in finding something bowl like and finding a puddle for water. Rio watched in interest. "Hurry! Hurry!" Agatha urged. You looked to the older witch and your lips became thin. Once Alice gave Jennifer what she needed, the potion's witch wasted no time as she stood under the moonlight and began to chant in Latin. You could of sworn that Lilia had said something but you had just missed it. Too focused on the situation at hand. Once Jennifer had finished, she swatted your hands and cloth away from the wound and began to rinse it with the water. Teen groaned in agony and Agatha barked at the potions witch. "You're making it worse!" She yelled.

You touched Agatha's arm and the woman stilled, desperate eyes meeting yours. Agatha breathed heavily as she watched Jennifer rinse the wound. You tilted your head as it began to close. Your eyes widened and your smiled, relieved. You glanced at Agatha as she leaned against you. Searching for some sort of comfort. With a wipe of a cloth. The wound was gone. Like it had never even been in the first place. "Look what you did." Lilia said as pride swelled in her eyes as se spoke to Jennifer. Jennifer smile in disbelief.

"We should move him somewhere more comfortable." Jennifer whispered and the group nodded in agreement. 

--I_I<-)0(->I_I--

After collecting more wood for the fire, You re-joined the group in their huddle. Lilia's eyes glistened as she noticed your approach and she patted the spot next to her. Welcoming you to sit by her side. You accepted the gesture but sat on the floor beside her rather then on the rock. Leaning your back against it. Rio watched you like a hawk. Not once had you attempted to speak her. In fact, it was as if you weren't even acknowledging her. You groaned exhausted, still covered in blood. You tried to catch up to the conversation at hand. "I never really just identified as a witch." Jennifer was talking deep in thought. You tilted your head. This was the first time you were seeing the softer side of the Potion's witch and you defiantly preferred it. "I'm an eleventh generation root worker and a midwife." You let a weak smile escape at her words. Lilia's face lit up and she looked almost excited as she took in Jennifer's words. Practically interested when the potion's witch mentioned about being a midwife. 

Alice softened. Looking absolutely bewitched as Jennifer spoke. "How were you bound?" The protection witch asked, intrigued. Her head tilting as she watched Jennifer. 

You shifted, also now very interested about the topic at hand. Jennifer thought for a moment. As if she were debating what to share. "I was invited to the brand new obstetrics association of greater Boston." She sighed as she kept her gentle gaze on Alice. "To share my expertise." You watched with the tiniest of pity as the potion witch frowned. "It was a trap. I still don't know how he did it. Bound me without Magic." Her thoughts ran with her and you could see the wheels turning in her head. She took in a deep breath. "so much for 'do no harm'" She hummed sarcastically. Your smile became thin at her words. 

The protection Witch hugged herself and smiled. Almost as if comforting herself. "When Mom died, I stopped believing everything she ever taught me." Your brows furrowed at her words. Poor thing. "I was so angry." She whispered then shrugged. "Part of me hoped that the road wasn't real. So that I could stay angry." Jennifer watched as Alice went quiet, concern in her eyes. "Because..." Alice trailed off, unable to find a reason. 

Lilia gave a small comforting smile to the younger woman. "Now you know... It was all for you." Alice rocked slightly and smiled weakly. It was a comforting thought. To know that her mother did it all for her. "And that makes you sad..." Lilia continued. "Sad is better then angry." You glance up at the divination witch. Your eyes scanning her face. Alice nodded along to Lilia's words

"Here." Jennifer hummed and gave Alice a bowl... of something. "Put this on your pressure points." Alice looked utterly confused and asked why. "Because it smells nice." She grinned at the protection witch. Alice became slightly flustered and thanked the older witch. Jennifer then looked at your and tilted your head her head. "How come you weren't brunt today?" She asked curiously. To your surprised, Jennifer wasn't rude about her question, simply intrigued.  

Thinking for a moment, you took off your glasses and wiped them down. "Well, I think it would be correct in thinking that I wasn't burnt because I am not apart of the coven." You hummed as you thought about what could be the cause. Lilia's eyes snapped to you. Alice looked confused and questioned why that was. You placed with your claw-like nails. "Transformation witches are... sometimes seen as lesser witches. But that all differs on opinion. The most we are supposed to do is transform into an animal that matches our soul with a few other magical abilities. However, there are others that are given way more gifts. The most well known one being Michelle Smith. My older sister. She always preferred the word Transfiguration instead of transformation. Not that it made a difference." You explained, seriously. Rio tensed slightly at the mention of your older sister.  Jennifer seemed confused and shared a look with Alice and Lilia. "We are seen as guides for a coven but never as a member. I don't know why. It just.... has always been. Perhaps it's because we're sometimes seen as more animal then witch. There has never been a coven that has accepted a transformation witch as proper member." You shrugged and sighed. 

Lilia twisted her rings as you spoke. Her eyes flickered over your form as you finished. "Well," She began slowly. "Then our coven will be the first." She hummed, determined. You stared at the divination witch for a moment. Your eyes were full of admiration. Rio raised an eyebrow and she cleared her throat causing the two of you to stop staring at each other. In an attempt to lighten the air, Lilia changed the subject. "You know, the worst part apart being a witch?" She asked. "All the misconceptions and rumour mongering. That we talk to ghosts." you smirked as the grey hair curly witch complained. "That we've all got an extra nipple." She hissed. You chuckled under your breath. 

Rio straightened and stopped playing with her knife. "You guys don't have extra nipples?" She asked. "I'm covered in nipples." Lilia cringed heavily as the green witch spoke. "You wanna see?" She asked the divination witch. Smirking slightly.

The conversation continued and the fire was glowing bright. The group had moved on to talking about the scars each member had gained over the years. Lilia smiled widely. "Check this out." She hummed proudly and revealed her lower neck. You raised an eyebrow at the sight of the scar. A puncture wound on her neck. "A vampire bite." You felt your chest grow bitter at the sight of the vampire's mark. "Right before I knocked out his other tooth." Alice and Jennifer laughed, Alice had moved spots a little to sit closer to the potions witch. Lilia softened as she went into her thoughts. "You know... we really kind of hated each other at the beginning but now-" The woman stopped. As if she had been paused. Now? You watched her as she zoned out completely. Alice and Jennifer laughed and you couldn't help but join in. When Lilia returned she gave the group the most innocent look of confusion. You grinned. "Huh?"

Jennifer laughed lightly. "Lilia... Where do you go?" She asked. Just then, Agatha returned and Your eyes locked with blue. She looked exhausted with worry. Alice asked how the teenager was. Agatha shrugged saying about him being mouthy. You grinned and leaned  back slightly. "Agatha, why don't you show us your battle scars." Jennifer urged the older witch. 

 Agatha grinned and rolled up her sleeve and revealed her scar on her elbow. "knitting needle to the elbow. Ever heard of the daughters of liberty?" She asked. When the group denied she smirked. "Exactly." You smiled widely. A part of you missed this. Then she pulled up her shirt slightly to reveal a large... canine bite wound. "Coyote." You stilled when the animal left Agatha's mouth. She had said it almost fondly? Rio eyed the scar then immediately looked away. Almost as if she were ashamed. 

"I've got a scar." Rio suddenly said. 

"No, you don't." Agatha said bitterly. 

"Yes, I do." Rio argued back. 

Alice and Jennifer shared a glance. And with that Rio began her story. "A long time ago, I loved someone. And I had to do something I really didn't want to. Even though it was my job." You watched as Rio swallowed. Completely ashamed. Like a kicked puppy. "And it hurt them. She is my scar." She glance over to Agatha. You softened as you watched the two. Agatha left to go stretch her legs and you frowned. Looking between the two. That... was it?  

Rio rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. Chasing after Agatha. But before she could get much further, Lilia grabbed her arm. Her eyes narrowed. "Don't think for a second that I've forgotten what you said in the sound booth." Lilia said seriously. You watched the interaction closely. Your eyes narrowed. Rio scoffed and pulled her arm away, Hissing at the older woman as she did. You hissed back catching the original green witch off guard. She stared for a moment the left. You glared as she did. Lilia looked greatly uncomfortable. 

Silence fell amongst the group. You sighed and began to play with your nails once more. "So... Since you turn into a cat and share the... traits.. does that mean you get a heat?" you coughed at Jennifer's question, despite how innocently she asked. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 What did you think of the new chapter!? Is it good? How are we feeling? What are you theories, darlings! Tell me everything!! I'm always reading the comments and looking for your thoughts and taking them into account and they help a lot with motivation. I honestly cant wait to read them! I wanted to let you all pick your instrument which is why purposely didn't describe it. 

Lot's of love and I hope to see you in the next chapter! 💜

(Remember to continue to thank and praise Patti Lupone in our prayers)

Nova xxx

[yanderelionwrites]

Yandere Lists: How They Mark You as Theirs

Decided to start adding twst characters to these types of posts

Content Warning: yandere, biting, branding, cutting, forced tattooing, possessiveness

Jewelry - Necklaces, bracelets, earrings, rings… Basically, if it shines, they’re buying it to adorn you with. No price is too big for their Darling. They’re very meticulous in choosing what will look best on you, comparing different jewels and deciding what will compliment your eye color. Jewelry is the perfect way to show off that you are theirs; it doesn’t mar your skin and it only enhances your already ethereal beauty 💎

| MHA: All Might, Ashido, Deku, HAWKS, Iida, KAMINARI, Mr. Compress, Natsuo, Nejire, Overhaul, RE-DESTRO, Shoto, Tamaki, Tokoyami, TWICE, YAOYOROZU

| Twst: AZUL, Crewel, JADE, Jamil, KALIM, MALLEUS, Riddle, Rollo, ROOK, Sebek, Silver, VIL

Clothing - Similar to the jewelry givers, these Yanderes avoid physically marking you by buying new outfits for you to wear. They revel in the fact that they bought you everything you’re wearing. They’re the reason you’re dressed in such nice clothes. They also like making you wear their own clothes, if only to see you completely engulfed in them. Having their scent surround you is just a bonus 👚

| MHA: Aizawa, All Might, ASHIDO, BAKUGO, Deku, Fat Gum, HAWKS, Jiro, Kaminari, Kirishima, Mirio, NATSUO, Present Mic, SERO, Shigaraki, Shinso, Shoji, Tsuyu, Twice, Uraraka, YAOYOROZU

| Twst: ACE, Cater, CREWEL, Deuce, Epel, Floyd, Idia, Jack, KALIM, Malleus, ROOK, Sebek, Trey, VIL

Biting - These Yanderes need more than material items to mark you as theirs. They need to physically show everyone that you belong to them by leaving hickies and bite marks all over you. They love tracing your reddened skin afterwards, thinking you look so pretty like this. They won’t tolerate you hiding them either. No, Darling, you’re going to show off each and every mark. How else will people know that you are already taken? 🦷

| MHA: BAKUGO, Dabi, Kirishima, Midnight, Mirko, Shigaraki, Spinner, TOGA

| Twst: FLOYD, Jack, Jade, LEONA, LILIA, Rook, RUGGIE

Tattoos - Jewelry can be taken off, clothing can be removed, and bites can heal… Something more permanent is in order… How about matching tattoos, Darling? You can even choose the design and where it will go! If you’re willing, then you can pick a spot that’s easy to cover up. If you’re not, well… They may force you to get one anyway. And it will be in a place that’s not as easy to hide 🪡

| MHA: Bakugo, Dabi, Kaminari, Present Mic

| Twst: Ace, Floyd, Leona, Sam

Branding/Cutting - The most extreme way a Yandere can mark you, either by burning or carving their name into your skin. They’ll only resort to this if you’ve misbehaved one too many times, and they’ll make sure to draw out the process so you don’t forget the lesson they are literally drilling into you. You are theirs, and there is nothing you can do about it now that that reminder is permanently marked on you 🔪🔥

| MHA: All For One, DABI, Endeavor, TOGA

| Twst: I don’t really see any of them doing this tbh

[somegrumpynerd]

I like the idea that Cross realised Killer was touchstarved (he didn't have the words for it but he noticed how much Killer would settle down from it) and started giving him very small basic affection. Pat on the back, hand on the shoulder, maybe a quick friendly hug, all things he probably learned through royal guard training and thinks of as normal friend/coworker stuff.

But as they both got more comfortable in the routine of it, Killer started instigating touches and he was not shy about it (like not just leaning into Cross's side during movie night, he looks like he's trying to get into Cross's jacket with him)

And that this more intense affection made Cross realise he might also be just a little bit touchstarved

Bonus:

[tears-of-taelia]

This day still terrifies me. To my core. With the strange weather that happened before, I expected something to occur. I could have never predicted the magnitude of that event. I assume you're here to wake me up then? You want us to face that evil again? I'm… We're afraid... Of everything. Of everyone. I don't know what I'm supposed to do! WE DON'T WANT TO GO BACK!

[luck-of-the-drawings]

THE ORDER OF PALMS An order of holy folk that serve The Helm, working to create powerful Aasimar Paladins for the purpose of protecting any who hire their help. [BACKSTORY UNDER CUT]

One day, Gjör and her peers were lead by their mentor Opheria, to a mission far from their home. On the peak of that mountain village, they saw upon the horizon, the castle of their home go up in flames. Horrified and scared, the apprentices sought to follow their mentors guidance, and followed her lead into a small barn. It was there, that Opheria proceeded to slaughter each and everyone of the apprentices. It seemed she somehow had a hand in this sudden attack on the Order of Palms. Gjör D'annevual survived a sword through the 'heart', on account of a rare condition, that places her heart on the other side of her chest. When she finally managed to bring herself back home, the Order was insulted by her survival. She had so many better peers, why couldn't any of them have survived? This runt was seriously the only thing that survived Opherias wrath? It was better to just wash their hands clean of this. Thus the Order decided to banish Gjör from their ranks. She now travels the land in search of a purpose.

[flagonofdragons]

Still can’t believe Ken only got one episode. He was introduced in one of the most important episodes of the Highbreed arc, was hyped up by Ben and Gwen for the first half of the episode, was kidnapped and turned into a DNAlien, forced to attack his grandpa, sister and cousin while also finding out for the first time about their secret powers and the existence of aliens and then thought he watched Grandpa Max die (which I imagine he might feel was his fault since he was the bait to lure Max in). The writers really gave this guy the most traumatic weekend of his life, mentioned him in 1 line in 1 other episode and then yeeted him out of existence.

What makes this situation even worse is that this all happened before Ben’s secret identity got leaked and the existence of aliens was common knowledge to the public. He wouldn’t even be able to go to a therapist as his story essentially boiled down to ‘being kidnapped by aliens’ and ‘experimented on’ (mutated into one) No one would ever believe that.

I really hope the Plumbers put some kind of support system in place after the Highbreed war ended for everyone who was turned into DNAliens.

[harvestmoth]

something that wont make any sense to literally anyone other than me. ignore my horrid revelations

[ichorblossoms]

love it when docs tries to correct shit when i'm not using he/him or she/her pronouns for a character like sorry sweaty i know i make typos bc i type too fast but that's correct actually <3

[wisteriasymphony]

blueblood!adrien : correct yet vague description

dottoremaxxing astarioncoded slasherpilled adrien: absolutely perfect description but NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

[flowerflamestars]

Migration Patterns snippet

Mostly asleep, but too near waking to be insensate, Elle turned her cheek into his touch, soulmark suddenly pressed to Jason’s palm.   Everything stopped. There was only this: warmth. If he let himself think it, Jason had imagined his half a little like the ocean. Too much, no matter how he tried to bottle it. Fresh water and salt water: where currents met, where color muddled, both and neither. Tidal Eleanor, ceaselessly making it make sense.   All that existed in Elle, just awake enough to reach, was no drowning depth. Just a certain light. Glowing and burning. Incandescent. New and old- not love yet, love already- spark bright interest that could not fade to embers, a thousand soft shades of safe.   Jason’s brain and Jason’s body all in one for once: a country with no borders, Elle an endless expanse of sky.   And then she rolled. Curled small enough not to fall, one arm outstretched.   Jason felt reality start to intrude before her eyes even opened. It was the cold, probably- insistent search that grasped only the cool leather of Jason’s jacket instead of a body in bed, and yanked anyway.   It was no distance to travel.   Just Elle’s grip, ferocious- just air, escaping Jason’s lungs in something so much worse than panic- Elle, on the threshold, a honey sweet dream turned caramel burnt before it cooled to snap in two, all at once- Elle woke up.   Adjusted, softened, let go to hook her fingertips in the collar of his t-shirt, expression unspeakably, unmistakably, fond for a minute before she blinked. Ran the back of her hand up his neck for half a second, and then-   Elle really woke up, drawing back.   “Shit. Sorry. Sorry. I thought”- She flung herself upright, steel-toed boots thudding not unpleasantly against Jason’s side. Elle frowned. “Where are we?”

[erythristicbones]

having big thoughts about Sideshow's first two arcs that will mean having to majorly rewrite both of them despite being almost finished w/ the games first draft script......but also these big thoughts are making me recognize fucking HUGE plotholes that i had conveniently ignored the first time around, so again, it feels like needed changes

[waloeders]

update on sao au!tomu

the minute i can find the proper ref pic of that knight!tomura they released recently for one of the games, this can be completed. he will have his full kit setup n everythin

WAIT I JUST REALISED HIS HEAD LOOKS MASSIVE 😭😭 WHAT HAPPENED. whatever. whatever.

[specsthesecond]

Being a waitress/bottle girl at a club that caters to monsters.

While serving a table of orcs their drinks you hear whistling from behind you and turn towards the table of werewolves calling you over,

"C'mere Doll, why don't you spend some time with us? It'd be better than looking at those ugly green faces."

The rest of the table barks out laughter and all you do is look back at the table of orcs to gauge their reactions, just incase you have to call the bouncer to stop another brawl.

"Aw yeah cus your slobbering snout's much more attractive ain't it?"

One orc yells and the others hurl their chosen insults across the table as well. The werewolves grumble and snarl insults back and you just stand in the middle of this, trying to think of an escape.

"Maybe she ain't at your table for a reason!"

One of the orcs claims boldly and all the other orcs voice their agreement while the wolves clearly disagree.

"Why don't we let the lady decide" A wolf with greying fur suggests with a smirk and both tables seem to agree on this being just a wonderful idea.

"Well love? Who's better then? Us or the mutts?"

"Aye! The real question is who can treat her better, isn't that right Doll?"

The attention of the two tables are now on you, waiting for your answer with baited breaths and half hard cocks probably.

"....I prefer minotaurs."

This deadpan response takes a few seconds to sink in before a chorus of disagreements and further arguing commences but you're already making your way towards the bar, you're sure they don't mind watching your tiny skirt bounce as you walk away.

That answer wasn't random, it's actually been the only thing you could think of all day. Your Minotaur coworkers cock reaching deep into your stomach while he pounds you into next week. You think that might be why so many customers have been extra forward with you today, they could probably smell the need on you.

You finally make it back to the bar, getting ready to end your shift and finally get some relief-

"You causing trouble?"

You whip around to see just the monster you were so desperate to see. He stands at the edge of the bar in his bouncer uniform, his sleeves hug his biceps very nicely and you nearly purr imagining what that arm would feel like around your throat. He gazes down at you with a knowing look.

"Me? Oh, I would never."

You look up at him and play with the collar of your shirt, successfully drawing his eyes to the generous amount of cleavage your uniform provides.

He huffs in amusement.

"They don't seem to think so."

He tilts his head and massive horns towards the two tables you just left where the occupants are all peering over one another to see the interaction between you and the bovine beast in front of you.

You scoff, take his arm and turn him around so that he's only focusing on you.

"I'm off. You're off in 15...maybe you could come by my place again....or something?"

You nervously bite your lip and he doesn't know why you're getting nervous.

You weren't nervous when you sent him that video of your stuffed cunt clenching around the Minotaur themed dildo you've had since before you were seeing eachother. You definitely weren't nervous when you sent him another video 6 hours ago of you stuffing said dildo into your perfect pussy in the employee bathrooms before slipping your tiny panties on over it, keeping the silicone deep in your cunt.

He pulls out his keys and leans down closer to you,

"Be ready when I get to the car."

You nearly squeal in excitement as you grab the keys and reach up to kiss his cheek. As you skip out the door to his car he looks back at the two tables just to revel a little in the disappointed grumbles and huffs emitting from the groups as they go back to their drinks.

𓄀

[sleepymarimo]

𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣!

summary: the first time you make their heart skip a beat, w/ monster trio + law! pairing(s): luffy x gn!reader, zoro x gn!reader, sanji x gn!reader, law x gn!reader cw: none! an: ahhhh idk how to feel about this one but i hope you enjoy :') 👐

luffy

there are a lot of things that get luffy's heart racing.

a good meal. a cool looking fish. a killer party. all of it makes this captain happy, because he revels in the adventure. he lives for the moment. he feels deeply and strongly, a trait that acts as a double edged sword.

like now, as a torrent of anger and worry swirl in his chest and weigh him down. he's running through some dense woods, bursting through trees and falling down hills, a look of determination on his face.

an enemy had managed to sneak up on the crew.

what's worse? they ran off. with you.

luffy doesn't think twice. he pushes through anything in his way for the sake of finding you before things got too rough. as he runs, he finds the enemy's actions cowardly. someone using you to draw him out makes him irritate. he doesn't care if he's falling into some trap; he'd deal with whatever was put in front of him so long as he could rescue you.

he's worried for your well being, of course he is. even though he can't see you, he can feel you. his observation haki lets him know how frightened you are, a fact that makes him all the more angry.

then finally, in the distance, he catches sight of you.

you're in a clearing, the enemy looming over you. they're raising a weapon in your direction, much too close.

luffy feels his blood boil. he grabs ahold of some trees, running backwards and preparing to launch himself in your direction as fast as he can. his rubber arms grow taut as he stretches, his mind set on rescuing you.

an annoyed huff leaves him when he hears the enemy taunting you, threatening your life and mocking your ambitions. it has luffy's anger rising, because there was no way he'd let your dreams get made fun of. by anyone.

his thoughts become hazy, his strong feelings taking hold of his actions.

then, luffy hears it. it's like a melody, absolute music to his ears.

your laugh.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his head clears.

he can feel a big smile curling at his lips. his grin is all teeth, his eyes shining with equal parts pride and mischief. it's like a fire has been lit in his soul, like he's a toy that's just been wound up to the max.

even in your current predicament, even when you're utterly terrified, you have faith in yourself. in him.

if you can laugh, then so can he.

finally, he yells out his signature move, launching himself at the enemy and landing a punch so hard that it makes the air itself tremble.

"luffy!" you call with some tears prickling in your eyes, your limbs still shaky from the adrenaline. your smile falters at the edges, relief flooding your body. "you made it!"

your captain comes to life upon seeing your smile up close, his heart beating like a drum. his rubber arms wrap around you and he squeezes you to his chest, his laughter ringing in your ears.

"of course i did!" he grins, grabbing you by the hand and urging you to run with him to the ship. his grip on you is tight and secure. glancing back at you, he can't help but feel grateful to have you with him on this journey.

he snickers, letting emotion run through him without restriction. "you made my heart feel funny!"

zoro

after another victory, the straw hat pirates found themselves reveling in drinks, food and company.

for a while, the swordsman finds himself amidst the other heavy drinkers. he grins and knocks back bottle after bottle, content with listening to the animated conversations around him and observing the party.

eventually though, he craves some solitude. and so, he heads off towards a less occupied area where he can drink in peace.

he basks in isolation, until you manage to find your way to him. a big grin is on your face and he can't help but reciprocate with a small smirk when he notices your inebriated state. unceremoniously, you plop down next to him at a respectable distance.

“hey zo', gimme some!” you nod towards the large bottle he holds, completely immersed in the light, upbeat atmosphere. one of your hands even reaches out, making a sort of grabbing motion.

he possessively tightens his grip on the bottle, his expression hardening slightly as his brows furrowed. "hah? this is mine, go grab your own bottle."

"i don't wanna full drink, jus' need a little more and i'll be good." you answer, well aware of your limits. your tone becomes pleading as you look up at him with puppy dog eyes. "one sip. please?"

with a groan, he relents. he grumbles something about you being lucky that he's in such a good mood, before extending the bottle in your direction.

yet, it appears that you have some more tricks up your sleeve.

instead of grabbing the bottle, you simply tilt your head back and let your mouth hang open. you make an 'ah' sound, waiting for him to bestow you with the gift of alcohol.

he's a little taken aback at first. seriously? you wanted him to pour it for you? ugh, fine...

he rolls his eye and uses his free hand to firmly hold your jaw steady and open, bringing the bottle up and pouring the sake into your mouth.

your hand rests on his, your fingers absentmindedly tracing over his knuckles.

it's all fine at first, until his eyes lock with yours. in that moment, he seems to acknowledge the intimacy of the act, something primal stirring in his gut as he looked down at you. his cheeks redden.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his muscles tense and he goes almost still. he gets so distracted that his hand moves upwards, effectively drowning your face with sake. your head snaps back into its natural position and you start to cough, the alcohol burning your nostrils.

you give the swordsman an incredulous look, wiping the excess sake from your face. “what the hell was that for?”

“you’re the one that moved!” he sharply replies, even though he knows damn well that you were sitting good and still for him.

focusing inward, he seems pleased to feel that his heart is once again thumping steadily. unwavering. what an odd feeling it was, to have his strong heart skip a beat.

i'll deal with that later. he thinks, not at all wanting to open that can of worms.

so, he takes another swig from the bottle and uses one of his large hands to pat you on the back as you continued to cough up sake.

“oi, don’t waste good booze.”

sanji

the cook wasn't used to being spoiled. he's always been a giver, someone who provides and never takes.

he basked in the smiles that formed on the faces of his crew mates, his family, whenever he made them a good meal or protected them. he never asks for anything in return. however, that doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t be shown appreciation every now and then.

currently, he's on night watch.

a thick blanket is wrapped around his shoulders, the cold wind nipping at his cheeks and painting them a reddish color. a cigarette hangs from his lips, his breaths coming out as white puffs against the dark sky.

out of the corner of his eye, he can see light pouring out from the kitchen window. how long has that been on? his brows furrow in suspicion as he makes his way over, half-expecting to see luffy attempting to crack open the pantry.

yet when he opens the door, his posture immediately relaxes and he practically melts as he sees you. you're in your pajamas, hunched over the stove with a focused expression. he takes note of the cookbook laid out on the counter, guiding you as you prepared a dish.

he calls your name, his limbs turning to mush as he approached you. "what are you doing here so late? if you're hungry, i'll make you some-"

his nose twitches as he catches the scent of what you're making.

he knows it well because it happens to be one of his favorite dishes. coincidentally, it was one of your least favorites, the scent of it rather unbearable to you.

"you're... you're making..." his cigarette threatens to tumble out of his lips as he gives you a bewildered expression.

he can see your nose briefly scrunch up before you give him a smile, one of your hands holding a wooden spoon and mixing up ingredients on a pan. "yeah. i hope i'm making it right. i mean, it won't be as good as yours anyway, but still."

"mon amour, you shouldn't. i know how much you can't stand the smell of it." he tries to usher you away, placing a hand on yours and insisting that he didn't want you to be queasy. "why're you making this, mon amour? did someone ask you to?"

you shrug and keep a firm hold on the wooden spoon, replying like the answer was obvious. "because i thought it'd make you happy."

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his cigarette does fall to the floor. the hand that's over yours tightens, perhaps his way of grounding himself. he's speechless for a moment, something shaking him down to his very center.

he could almost cry.

"sanji?" you ask, a little concerned for the chef as his eyes seemed to glaze over.

the blond snaps out of it, giving you a smile that's so warm it makes you wonder if the sun had just come up. there's none of that surface level attraction or lust in his gaze, only an authentic appreciation.

thank you. he thinks, feeling light. thank you for caring.

his eyes close as he once again takes in the scent of the dish you're preparing. "it smells great, mon amour. better than anything i've ever made, i’m sure of it."

"i doubt that." you laugh, downplaying his compliment. with a nod, you resume cooking. "it'll be finished by the time you're done with your watch. i can handle it."

sanji thanks you once more, his heart feeling full. returning to his post, he allows you to do something kind for him. he allows himself to take, without worrying about having to repay you.

he quells any lingering thoughts of insecurity and self-doubt, focusing instead on the meal that's sure to be waiting for him in the morning.

law

it was a couple weeks ago that law made the decision to educate the crew a bit more on medical practices.

the surgeon knew that he couldn’t always be around to provide assistance to the crew, so it was only logical that he trained everyone in basic first aid, including you. day after day, he trained everyone, one at a time.

was it a lot? yes. however, law liked to be prepared and felt comfort in being thorough with his teachings, regardless of how tedious it was.

so, finally it was your day to be trained under his watchful eye.

you could tell how passionate he was about his work, how knowledgeable. if you had any questions or wanted to know more about a topic, he took the time to explain it to you properly.

he was quite patient, something you were thankful for since you knew he could sometimes grow frustrated.

when it's all said and done, he quizzes you. he sits atop the exam table, his expression apathetic.

"i'm a patient suffering from shortness of breath, chest pain and dizziness." he flatly says, watching your every move. "what comes to mind? what do you check first?"

you bite at your lip, your head scrambling to come up with any ideas of what your 'patient' could be suffering from. "arrhythmia?" you answer, uncertain. he gives you a pressing look, urging you to continue. "and i... check your heartbeat?"

"good." with a nod of his head, he gestures towards the stethoscope. "go ahead, then. check it and let's see if you get the reading right."

pushing past your initial hesitance, you grab the stethoscope and put it on, gently holding the bell in your hand. placing it on his clothed chest, your expression turns frustrated as you struggle to hear a beat.

he rolls his eyes and calls your name lightly. "you can't place it over fabric. it needs to go directly on the skin."

oh yeah, you needed to place it directly on his chest.

you click your tongue, embarrassed by your slight error. "yeah, yeah, i got it."

with that, your hand slips under the hem of his shirt.

however, instead of holding up his shirt and and placing the stethoscope directly over his heart, your hand slides upward from his abdomen and all the way to his chest.

your fingers inadvertently graze along his skin, tracing a warm path from his navel to his heart.

you're too focused on your task to notice his widening eyes and how his breath hitches.

a content smile forms on your face when you catch the sound of his heartbeat.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

you look up at him, slightly concerned. “i think there's something weird-"

"you're hearing things." he's quick to say, placing a hand over yours and promptly removing it from his person. standing from the exam table, he adjusts his shirt and takes a step back to put some much needed distance between the two of you. "good job today, you did well."

he turns in the opposite direction, not wanting to let his cracked composure show. steeling himself, he takes a deep breath and shakes off any residual feelings of unease.

it was just a fluke. he's quick to think, wanting to be rational.

in the end, he looks over his shoulder and gives you a nod before heading to his study.

[prythianpages]

A Light That Never Goes Out | Azriel

Azriel x Rhysand's sister (reader) | The aftermath of Azriel kissing you in front of everyone in the Court of Nightmares.

warnings: angry Rhys, angry High Lord, brief mention of Tamsand, mating bond snapping

word count: roughly 3K, around 3.5K if you read the bonus scene

a/n: This is a part two to this but can be read as a stand alone. I had fun writing this but I worry this sounded better in my head. I was tempted to turn this into a crack fic bc of this trending tiktok sound.

Azriel kisses you, consequences be damned. His hand slides from yours to the nape of your neck, drawing you closer. You kiss him back with the same intensity, years of longing and love pouring into this single moment. Your mind and thoughts tangling with his, the bond between you surging with emotion. Desire and hope. He’s still in disbelief that tonight was the first night he told you he loved you.

But in truth, Azriel had been telling you all along—in every glance, every touch, every kiss that held more than words ever could.

Azriel’s shadows recoil as the two of you pull apart, breathless. The Court of Nightmares had faded away, the two of you lost in each other. It’s just you and him, as it is meant to be…Until the distinctive footsteps of your father approaching echoes throughout the ballroom. Your eyes are wide, too many emotions swirling within their depths. 

But Azriel is relieved that regret is not one of them.

“Azriel.”

The High Lord’s voice is calm and collected but the fury flickering in his violet eyes is unmistakable. He stands no more than two feet away, the authority radiating from him as cold as it is absolute. Beside him, Rhysand watches, his expression unreadable. 

Your father lifts a hand, wisps of darkness and starlight spilling from his fingertips. The orchestra resumes under the silent command and driven by some invisible force, the guests resume dancing and drinking. As if nothing had happened. 

“Come with me,” your father says, his tone leaving no room for argument. His command is directed solely at Azriel. “I’d like to have a word.”

 You try to hold on to Azriel, to keep him close, but he slips his fingers from yours, bowing his head in quiet submission to your father. Without another word, he follows after him. And though his command had been directed solely at Azriel, the weight of the situation falls on the both of you. 

So you step forward, determined to follow after them. But just as you step outside the ballroom, Rhysand grasps your arm, forcing you to a stop.

“You stupid, foolish…,” his voice trails off in frustration. “What have you done?”

You spin on him, eyes flashing with anger as you yank your arm out of his hold. “What have I done? What about what have you done? Planning marriage alliances behind my back? Like I’m some pawn on your chessboard?”

Rhysand’s gaze softens for a brief moment. “Y/n, I–”

“No.” You interrupt sharply, starlight beginning to swirl from the fingertip you point at him. You don’t want to hear his excuse, whatever justification he thinks will make this right. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cassian and Mor making their way toward you, slipping through the dancing couples and out of the ballroom. 

The starlight seeping from your fingertip glows brighter, ready and poised to attack. However, it’s your words you speak into his mind that make the blow instead.

“You know, if you love that runt from Spring so much, why don’t you marry him yourself?”

Rhysand’s eyes widen, his brows furrowing as the meaning of your words hit him. The revelation that you know his secret. Where he’d sneak off to some nights. Why the scent of crisp rain and earth lingered on him when he’d return. You and Azriel had pieced it together after Cassian had mentioned that his book on Illyrian training and methods suddenly went missing. Given your secret, you and Azriel had kept that information to yourselves, waiting for the moment Rhysand would feel comfortable to tell you himself. 

It takes him a moment to regain his composure, for his gaze to harden again. His lips curl into a snarl–a warning.  “Y/n.”

He leans in forward but you take a step back and winnow away, only one thing on your mind. Finding Azriel.

**

The walk to the High Lord’s private office in the Court of Nightmares is silent but the sense of foreboding is nearly deafening. Azriel is tense, his shadows quiet and burrowing into his leathers. Too many possibilities and consequences storm through his mind, each one more damning than the last.

Does he regret kissing you in front of everyone? No.

That kiss was the first honest, uninhibited thing he’d allowed himself to do in years. It was freeing, exhilarating to be able to show everyone, especially the sons of Spring and Autumn that you were his and he was yours. He could face death for this—for touching the High Lord’s daughter. For kissing you so openly, so brazenly, in front of the entire court.

But why? Why should it be so wrong for him to love you? Because of his birth? The scars of his past that marked him as unworthy? He’s served loyally. Bled for this court.Tortured for this court. 

He’s watched from the shadows as lords and sons, full of false charm, have circled you like vultures, eyeing you as nothing more than a prize to be claimed.  And yet, when he—who knows you, who cherishes you—shows his love, it is considered a crime.

It isn’t fair. But Azriel has never been afforded fairness. 

The heavy doors to the High Lord's office swing open with a wave of his hand, and Azriel steps inside. The air is thick with tension, and every muscle in his body tightens. The High Lord gestures for him to sit, but Azriel bows his head, respectfully declining. Standing feels safer. Less vulnerable. He wonders if his refusal will anger the High Lord further, but the single shadow curling at his ear reports no rising fury.

He can feel the weight of the High Lord’s gaze—it’s heavy, scrutinizing, like the cold press of a blade against his skin. He keeps his eyes forward, even though his heart pounds in his chest. If there’s punishment to be had, Azriel will accept it.

The High Lord moves to his desk, positioned beneath an oculus, where moonlight spills through and dances across his features. He gazes up at the starlit sky as if searching for answers—or perhaps, waiting.

“Normally, this is the part where people like you should be begging for forgiveness, for a way to rectify your mistake.”

Azriel’s jaw tightens. “I haven’t made a mistake.”

“No?” The High Lord’s gaze snaps back to him, piercing as if he could peel away Azriel’s very skin to lay bare his soul. Azriel wonders, for a brief moment, if your daemati powers had been inherited from your father. Could the High Lord see into his mind, his thoughts? Have kept this power to himself all these years as a secret weapon? 

“You sound so sure of yourself,” the High Lord continues, his tone sharpening. “Tell me, how long has this... affair been going on?”

“For decades.” Azriel admits, knowing that there was no use in lying. The truth was already written in the way he kissed you, in the way he looked at you as you broke away from the kiss.

“For decades?” The High Lord repeats, his expression darkening, violet eyes narrowing. “You took my daughter’s first dance tonight of all nights.”

Azriel’s silence says everything. Both of them aware that Azriel had taken more than dances, more than a kiss.

“You’ve taken her innocence. You’ve ruined her…” The High Lord continues to seethe in that cool, unnerving tone.

Azriel’s fingers twitch at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for his dagger. Not to defend himself, but because it’s his only comfort in moments like these.

But this is not a battle to be fought with daggers or swords. This is a battle of love, of politics, of status. One he’s had no training for yet one he’s willing to fight. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d fight against all odds.

“Whether she marries Spring or Autumn, she will become a lady of the highest esteem and forge a strong alliance with my court. Laden with all the riches and wonders only a High Lord can offer. What can you offer? You don’t even have a proper last name to give her, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel swallows thickly, the weight and shame of his low-born status crashing into him like the violent current of Illyria’s river. It feels like he’s sinking under it, drowning in it. He knows he can’t offer you what any son of Spring or Autumn could. He had reminded you of that—again and again. 

It’s as if you can feel his doubts creeping back in, the poison of guilt and worthlessness seeping in. Your presence—soft, warm, and steady—enters his mind. You bring forth the memory you had shared with him moments ago on the dance floor again.

“I can’t give you much,” his voice had dropped to a whisper, barely a rasp as he leaned his forehead against yours. His nose brushed against yours, his lips hovering just over your own. “But I can give you everything I have.”

“That’s all I’ll ever need,” you had replied, the words echoing now in his mind, like an antidote to the venom of doubt. That’s all I’ll ever need, that’s all I’ll ever need, that’s all—

“I asked you a question, Azriel.” The High Lord’s sharp voice cut through the memory, yanking him back to the cold, oppressive reality of the Court of Nightmares. “What can you offer in exchange for my daughter?”

Azriel’s knees buckle beneath him before he even realizes it. He drops to the floor, bowing his head low. His shadows stir, swirling around him in a frenzy, urging him to stand. To stop him.

“My life.”

“Your life,” The High Lord muses. He lets out a dark, humorless chuckle. “You love my daughter enough to give your life for her?”

“Yes,” Azriel says, his voice firm and steady, even as his shadows coil tighter around his arms, trying to pull him back from this path. But he stays rooted to the floor. His life, his soul—it all belongs to you anyway. What was it worth, if not to protect you? To be yours?

The High Lord’s eyes narrow as he studies the swirling shadows, dark and restless, wrapping themselves around Azriel’s form. Shadowsingers are rare. Their power is precious. They can see and hear things others can’t. The only known living one kneels before him now. 

Despite his low born status, the Shadowsinger had also proved himself a formidable, Illyrian warrior. A Carynthian. It’s why he appointed Azriel as the Night Court’s spymaster.  

And now this powerful and strong male is offering his life.

To have a Shadowsinger as his spymaster is rare, a gift in itself. To have Azriel’s loyalty, his strength, his skills bound by magic for life. A weapon of mass destruction, at his beck and call. No room for betrayal, no worry over him leaving his court for another.

 All in exchange for your hand in marriage? 

Now, that sounds like a deal.

He lets out a thoughtful hum, voicing his consideration. He could give Azriel a title, raise him from his bastard status. At his will, darkness begins to rise from the floor. The power of the bargain hovers in the air between them, ready to etch itself into both their skins. 

 Azriel finally lifts his head, meeting the High Lord’s eyes with no fear. Only the light of determination. He is willing to give his life to your father if that’s what it takes to be by your side. 

The cloud of darkness begins to separate, its dark tendrils moving toward him, the binding magic poised to seal his fate, to chain him to this bargain for the rest of his life.

But before it can touch his skin, before the deal can be made, a bright light erupts in the room. A sharp hiss escapes the darkness as it recoils, retreating back into the shadows where it had come from. Azriel’s own shadows seem to shudder in relief.

Both Azriel and the High Lord’s heads snap toward the source of the light. You stand at the doors, your eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears, your hands glowing with pure, raging starlight.

“No!” you cry, the word trembling on your lips as you step forward, the glow around you growing even brighter. 

Your eyes lock with Azriel’s and something tightens in his chest, crawling up his rib cage. It’s sharp and breathtaking. His hand grabs at his chest and yours does the same. 

”He will not be your slave,” you say, turning to your father with the same determination flashing in your eyes. “There has to be another way.”

The High Lord’s features morph into a scowl. “Another way? My star, he is a bastard—”

“I love him!” 

That tightening in his chest finally snaps and Azriel’s breath catches. He feels that light in your eyes, perfectly reflecting the one in his. It sears into his soul, as fierce and unrelenting as the starlight glowing from your hands.

Your father doesn’t notice the shift in the air, the change in Azriel’s posture, in his chest. Or in yours.

“You think that means anything?” 

Azriel’s shadows whisper a warning into his ears, of an oncoming raging darkness. Different but similar to the High Lord’s. He barely hears his shadows, too focused on you, on the bond thrumming between you. His mind is consumed with you. 

Mate. Mate. Mate.

“You and mother—” you begin.

“Do you think your mother and I love each other?” The High Lord interrupts sharply, his voice cold and cutting. He breaks out into a laugh.

Azriel snaps out of his trance. Anger flares within him at the shock, the devastation that takes over your features. He watches as you shrink back slightly, his instincts roaring to protect you from any harm, whether verbal or otherwise. 

Because he’s your mate. Because he loves you.

 “You think I would marry your mother, a low born seamstress by choice? What your mother and I have is different. It’s complicated. A special bond.  One that gave me Rhysand and you and–”

A sound like thunder crashes through the room, reverberating off the stone walls as darkness swells in every corner. One moment, Azriel is on his knees. The next, he’s slamming into the cold marble floor, the force of Rhysand’s power pinning him down. Tendrils of Rhysand’s darkness coil around Azriel’s form, fighting with the shadows that instinctively rise to defend him.

“How long?” Rhysand's violet eyes blaze as they burn into Azriel.

“And I am beginning to think you both are nuisances to my existence rather than gifts...” The High Lord mutters followed by an exhausted sigh.

“How long have you been fucking my sister?” His words are a snarl as he slams Azriel harder into the floor, advancing toward him with clenched fists.

“Rhysand!” You let out a cry, rushing to the two males to separate them.

Your brother whips around, his anger igniting into something fiercer at the sight of you. “Stay out of this!” he snaps, his hand raising. He’s too angry, too heated. So much that he doesn't even notice the force of darkness he aims your way.

Rhysand’s magic hits you hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A choked gasp escapes as you stumble backward, struggling to keep your footing. A burst of bright sapphire explodes from each of Azriel’s siphons, a deep and low growl rumbling from his chest. He breaks free from Rhysand’s magic, standing to his feet. His wings flare behind him, shadows swirling like a storm.

The look in his hazel eyes is nothing short of feral, dark and ancient, a fierce and possessive glint that makes Rhysand falter and surprise flash across the High Lord’s features.

You fall to the ground with a thud, palms scraping against the stone and pain flaring in your hands. Rhysand turns toward you, the anger that had been simmering in his violet gaze immediately dissolving into guilt and regret. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t touch her.” Azriel growls, standing in between you and your brother, his shadows forming in an additional protective barrier. Some shadows flutter toward you, helping you stand and bringing you to Azriel’s side. Your hand instinctively seeks Azriel’s, fingers curling into his and you squeeze it, letting him know you’re alright. 

“By the Cauldron…” the High Lord’s voice comes out in a low murmur, his gaze darting between you and Azriel. His eyes narrow as he finally notices the subtle shift in the air, in your scents. The scent of a bond. 

“You two are mates,” he says, tone laced with resignation. Because even he, a High Lord, is not above going against The Cauldron.

It feels like a punch to the gut for Rhysand. His best friend and his sister. Fate’s inevitable design had been right under his nose all along. “What?” Rhysand breathes in shock, chest still heaving from the exertion of his magic.

Azriel’s hand tightens around yours. His gaze softens as he turns to you, the fierce protectiveness from earlier easing into something gentler. And when your eyes meet again, it’s there—the unmistakable light of the mating bond. It shines bright and steady between you. Just like your love for each other does.

 A light that never goes out.

bonus scene

Once the shock of the bond had worn off, the High Lord excused himself, muttering about damage control. “Spring will be the hardest to deal with,” he had said.

Rhysand’s body tensed as his eyes found yours. But you’d only given him a small, reassuring smile. Though it is something you would like to talk about, his secret would remain safe with you.

Your father would soon announce the bond to the Court of Nightmares, already making plans for a grand mating ceremony. You’d much rather have something private, intimate. But a public celebration seemed like a small price to pay for the lifetime you’d get to spend beside the male you loved.

Rhysand turned his gaze back to Azriel, his expression still unreadable. “You never answered my question,” he said, voice calm but edged with something darker. “How long?”

Azriel hesitated before answering, unlike the way he had with the High Lord. This was his best friend standing in front of him. The one he grew up and trained along with, survived the brutality of the Blood Rite with. Rhysand was like a brother to him and he went behind his back for years.

 “A decade.”

“A decade?” Rhysand blinks in surprise. 

A whole decade of secrecy. Of Azriel sneaking around with his little sister. It all made sense now. Why Azriel became more reserved, more private. Why Azriel no longer indulged himself with the pleasures of the females at Rita’s or the Illyrian camps like he and Cassian did. Why you spent more time at the Moonstone palace, instead of the House of Wind, where you had grown up and been raised by a handful of Priestesses. It hadn’t been to learn about the politics of the courts but to be closer to Azriel.

And then, with no warning, Rhysand swings.

The hit lands squarely on Azriel’s jaw, so swift and unexpected that neither you nor Azriel’s shadows had seen it coming. Azriel takes the blow without protest, silently commanding his shadows to stand their ground and not fight back. 

“Rhys!” you snapped, your brows furrowing into a scowl. 

Rhysand huffs, shaking out his hand from the impact. “That’s for going behind my back,” he says. He pauses for a second and then, he lets out a low chuckle. Full of disbelief and relief.

“I’m still angry at both of you,” Rhysand admits, and Azriel lowers his head, bracing for more. “Not because it’s you—though I’ll admit, seeing you together is... strange. But because you kept it from me for so long, putting both of your lives at risk.”

Then Rhysand’s voice softens, his gaze following. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

Azriel lifts his head back up in surprise as Rhysand holds out his hand.

 “You’re a good male, Azriel. Better than most. And I know you’ll protect her. Love her in a way no one else can.”

Azriel stares at Rhysand’s outstretched hand before finally clasping it, the tension between them easing. Your chest warms at your brother’s sincerity.

The sound of footsteps, heavy and hurried, echo through the stone walls. They grow louder with each passing second and moments later, Cassian and Mor appear at the entrance of your father’s study. Cassian braces himself against the doorframe and Mor leans on him, their chests rising and falling rapidly.

It’s clear they’re winded from the endless stairs they must’ve taken to reach the floor of your father’s private study. It was located between the Court of Nightmares and Moonstone Palace, warded so that only those of his bloodline could winnow directly inside.

Their eyes dart between the three of you. 

“What did we miss?”

a/n: hope you enjoyed! here’s a little HC (idk what to call it?) of Rhys’s sis & Az if you’re curious 💙

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

fic tag: @noisyinfluencerstrawberry, @tothestarsandwhateverend, @tulipbite, @kylaisra, @stressed-reader

[maniculum]

Medieval Scorpions Effortpost

So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:

The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".

Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.

As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".

Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.

See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:

That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?

So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.

And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.

*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.

Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.

And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.

11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)

12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)

12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)

12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)

13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)

13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)

13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)

13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)

13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)

13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)

13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)

13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)

14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)

14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)

14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)

15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)

I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.