#my own interpretation of a siren

[tagzpite]

Siren Odysseus concept sketches !!

[d4rkpluto]

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔶 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔴𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫

⟶ before i get into this post, the celebrities/influencers i add are not in order "of the most beautiful" and if there's a celebrity i left out then they were purposely left out because i wanted to get use twelve women.

⟶ on the other hand, this post can be used as a beauty indicator post :) and if you do not have any of these placements it doesnt take away your beauty :)

PLUS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE 9,000+ FOLLOWERS IN THE COMMENTS OR IN THE REBLOGS TELL ME WHAT TYPE OF POST YOU WOULD WANT TO SEE :)

⟶ THE DEGREES EXPLAINED IN THIS POST IS AIDED BY JANDUZ ALONG WITH MY OWN RESEARCH.

PAID CHART READINGS

the celebrities/influencers i used to get information were women who were called the most beautiful that include adriana lima, aneglina jolie, audrey hepburn, bella hadid, beyonce, jessica alba, kristina pimenova, madison beer, marilyn monroe, megan fox, monica bellucci and rihanna.

ASCENDANT ⬎

♇ the sign that appeared for the ascendant the most was GEMINI, in my previous posts, i have always noted that Gemini/Mercurial energy can make someone very beautiful, majority of the times it can make someone appear foxy, youthful and can make someone appear "well done" like every features of them being well matched for each other.

the second sign in the ascendant was leo and third was capricorn.

the modality that appeared the most was the cardinal modality while the element that appeared the most was fire.

ASCENDANT ASPECTS ⬎

♇ the ascendant aspect that occurred the most was the ascendant aspecting uranus, it can make someone appear as other-worldly, [or you can say outer worldly and since uranus rules over aliens, beings that are not human it can include mermaids/sirens besides the common idea of an alien].

the second aspect that appeared the most was the ascendant aspecting venus and third was the ascendant aspecting saturn.

ASCENDANT DEGREES ⬎

♇ the degree that appeared the most in the ascendant was the 10° a capricorn degree that can bring structure and perfection to wherever it lands on.

the second degree that occurred the most was the 19°, a libra degree, and the 28°, a cancer degree.

the modality the appeared the most was the cardinal degree, but for the element degree was the water degrees.

SUN ⬎

♇ the sign that appeared the most for the sun was TAURUS, taurus a venusian sign, it is not a surprise it had appeared the most. it being aligned with this celestial planet makes their beauty and essence highlighted and more evident to those around them.

the second sun sign that appeared the most was gemini and the third was libra.

venusian suns appeared the most but for the modality it was mutable suns that appeared the most.

SUN HOUSES ⬎

♇ the house the sun appeared the most in was the 11H, a global and universal planet can be interpreted as being perceived as stunning by everyone around them.

the second house the sun appeared in multiple of times was the 2H and lastly it was the 8H.

modality wise, the houses the sun occurred the most in was cardinal and fixed houses. [1H, 4H, 7H AND 10H FOR CARDINAL]. [2H, 5H, 8H AND 11H FOR FIXED].

SUN ASPECTS ⬎

♇ the sun aspect that occurred the most was the sun aspecting mars, the sun and mars together can make the "sexiness" or you can say steaminess of an individual more prominent in someone.

SUN DEGREES ⬎

♇ the degree that repeated the most for the sun was the 5°, an Leo Degree that can make someone appear as refined and very provocative and steamy.

the second degree was the 13°.

the type of degrees that appeared the most for the sun was the cardinal degree.

MOON ⬎

♇ moving onto moon signs, the sign that repeated within this research was aries, the moon is the face and aries puts fierceness and allure to the celestial planet its aligned with.

the second moon sign that occurred the most was leo and second was libra.

the modality that appeared the most was the fixed moon, [taurus, leo, scorpio and aquarius].

MOON HOUSES ⬎

♇ the house that had the moon in the most was the 6H, it brings the need to want to perfect features, beauty and fashion.

the second house was the 7H and the third was the 12H.

however, the modality houses the moon planet occurred in the most was fixed and mutable houses.

MOON ASPECTS ⬎

♇ the aspect that appeared the most for the moon was the moon aspecting neptune, neptune is a higher octave of venus, the beauty is mesmerising and glamorous, it can make someone appear siren/mermaid-like and outer worldly, the beauty brings people in.

the second aspect that was seen a lot was the moon aspecting mars.

MOON DEGREES ⬎

♇ the degree that repeated the most for the moon was the 15°, a Gemini Degree, that can bring people to follow the way you present yourself beauty wise, and can bring copy-cats and a lot of people speaking about how you look like.

the modality that appeared the most was the fixed degrees in the moon, along with taurus degrees, [2, 14 and 26].

MERCURY [SPECIFICALLY BEING SPOKEN ABOUT] ⬎

♇ the mercury sign that occurred the most was mercury in GEMINI, and the women who have this aspect get spoken about quite a lot, and since this is a beauty indicator post, the mercury and gemini alignment would have people very inquisitive about the individual's essence and could push people to want to copy how they express themselves.

the second sign was taurus and the third one was libra.

the modality that appeared the most was both cardinal and fixed.

MERCURY HOUSES ⬎

♇ the house mercury appeared in the most was the 11H, like i have said the 11H is a global house, specifically socially, could make someone appear as someone who is very youthful and charming adding onto their beauty aura.

the second house that mercury appeared in the most was the 1H and lastly it was the 7H.

the mercury planet mainly appeared in air houses, [3H, 7H and 11H].

MERCURY ASPECTS ⬎

♇ moving onto the idea of aspects, the planet mercury was aligned with the most was mercury aspecting venus, this aspect can make someone appear as absorbing and irresistible.

the second aspect was mercury aspecting jupiter and the third aspect was mercury aspecting neptune.

MERCURY DEGREES ⬎

♇ lastly for mercury, the degree that appeared the most for this planet was the 0°, this degree does not belong to any sign/planet, the degree means that whatever it is in, it's in its truest form, to have the zero degree in mercury implies that the charisma, adolescence and allure is at its highest peak making the kin very bewitching.

the second degree that appeared the most was the 2°, a Taurus/Venus degree.

VENUS ⬎

♇ coming to one of the main properties of the post, venus, the sign that appeared the most throughout this research was ARIES, not a surprise since most iconic beauty icons have this placement. [for example, marilyn monroe, audrey hepburn and elizabeth taylor]. this placement fiercely focuses on the face of an individual and making them appear sensual, erotic and sexy!

the second placement was cancer venus.

VENUS HOUSES ⬎

♇ the house the venusian planet appeared in the most was the 12H, a neptunian house that focuses on glamour and elevating one's beauty. can make someone absorbing and mysterious to be around.

the second house it appeared in the most was the 7H and the third one was the 9H.

the modality houses it appeared in the most was the cardinal houses.

VENUS ASPECTS ⬎

♇ the main aspect that appeared the most was venus aspecting uranus, it makes someone have really ethereal and unique beauty.

next was venus aspecting jupiter and the last one was venus aspecting the midheaven.

VENUS DEGREES ⬎

♇ finally, for the degrees, the number that i saw the most was the 12°, the pisces degree, like i have said in previous sentences, piscean essence can bring glamour and heightened beauty to wherever it lands on, and it landing on venus makes the person seem alluring and stunning with how they look and display themselves.

the second degree that appeared the most was the 28°, a cancer degree.

for modality, it was the mutable degrees that appeared the most.

MARS ⬎

♇ with mars, the sign that appeared the most was LEO, mars is the planet of "sexiness" or you could say strong allure, with leo being aligned with this fiery planet, it brings out the glam and light shining attraction an individual can carry and array. it wants people around them to know "hey im sexy and you should see it" lmao.

the second sign that occurred the most was taurus.

MARS HOUSES ⬎

♇ within my research i have noticed that the houses mars appeared in the most was the 6H, as i have spoken before, the 6H brings wanting to have perfection with whatever planets lands in it, and to have mars there implies the 6H wanted to perfect the fiery and erotic essence the fiery planet brings.

the second house it appeared in was the 9H and third was the 12H.

the modality houses that appeared the most was evidently mutable houses.

MARS ASPECTS ⬎

♇ when it comes to aspects, the planet mars was aligned with the most was the amplifier planet, jupiter, making it easy for people to express their sensuality and steaminess to the point that it is in your face.

the mars aspect that came in second was mars aspecting uranus, but from most of the research i've done, all the results had mars aspecting outer planets, just jupiter and uranus occurred the most.

MARS DEGREES ⬎

♇ coming to the topic of degrees, the i number saw the most was the 10°, the capricorn degree can make someone very mesmerising and beautiful as like virgo, it can bring perfection and structure to the theme it is stuck with. its brings a mature appeal that is hard to look away from.

on the other hand, the modality within the degree that came the most was fixed degrees.

NEPTUNE ⬎

♇ neptune being a higher octave of venus entails the seductive and siren-like beauty someone holds, the sign that appeared the most with neptune was the sign SAGITTARIUS, the sagittarius sign amplifying the glamorous beauty an individual has and makes it easier for people to admire and idolise them.

the second sign that occurred the most was capricorn and the third sign was leo.

NEPTUNE HOUSES ⬎

the house neptune appeared in the most was the 9H, like i have said for the sagittarius neptune, it expands the beauty and delicacy of someone's appearance and. due to this, people would easily follow and glorify them.

it had also appeared in fire houses, [1H, 5H AND 9H] the most.

and the modality the planet neptune occurred in the most was mutable houses, [3H, 6H, 9H and 12H].

NEPTUNE ASPECTS ⬎

♇ onto the aspects a huge number of these individuals i have researched had their neptune aspecting pluto, as i have said numerous of times, neptune is a strong beauty planet and it being paired with pluto intensifies their attraction which gains them masses of influence over people. their beauty and charm appears as inviting and risqué.

the second aspect that i saw the most was neptune aspecting mercury while the last one was neptune aspecting saturn.

NEPTUNE DEGREES ⬎

♇ once again the degree that was with the planet the most was a capricorn degree, but this time it was the 22°, this degree bringing mature-like sensual and provocative nature to someone's physical features. can make them easily scouted by the industry.

the second degree that made an appearance the most was the 24°.

though for the modality it was both cardinal and mutable degrees that i saw the most.

ASTEROID BELLA ⬎

♇ the sign that i saw appear with asteroid bella the most was CAPRICORN, capricorn beauty has always been underestimated, it brings clean, structured and daring beauty to a person. and due to this many of them get assigned to modelling companies because of how regal they look.

the sign element that appeared the most was earth signs being paired with bella.

though for the modality two have occurred the most and it was both cardinal and mutable degrees.

BELLA HOUSES ⬎

♇ the house asteroid bella was found in the most was the 3H, bringing in youthful and buoyant beauty to someone, and because of this sometimes they carry the child-like and humorous essence mermaids have in film.

the second house bella was in the most was the 12H.

and for modality the houses bella was found in the most was mutable houses.

BELLA ASPECTS ⬎

♇ the aspect i saw in their chart the most was bella aspecting jupiter, it makes someone look very elven and fairy like, and sometimes it can make someone have this soft physical attraction. can give someone goddess-like beauty.

the second aspect that appeared the most was bella aspecting venus and the third one to follow was bella aspecting mars.

BELLA DEGREES ⬎

♇ the degree i saw display itself the most was the 24°, a pisces degree that can boost someone's physical attraction. can make someone have this siren-like allure that causes other people to be mesmerised of them.

for the modality mutable degrees with there for bella was there the most.

for the element, i noticed it was water degrees that occurred the most.

OTHER CALCULATIONS ⬎

⟶ the top three sign dominance that appeared in people's charts for this research was [we all have 3 dominant signs] ⬎

leo.

scorpio.

aquarius.

⟶ the top three dominant planets that appeared in people's charts for this research was [we all have 3 dominant planets] ⬎

moon.

mercury.

saturn.

⟶ the signs that occurred the most in the big six was ⬎

aries

gemini

libra

⟶ the top three degrees that appeared the most was ⬎

9.

10.

28.

⟶ the 2 degree and the 13 degree running up as the fourth and fifth.

this is the end of the post, thank you so much for reaching to this point :)

masterlist

PAID CHART READINGS

pluto

♇

[trancylovecraft]

Hello Girlie! I saw that your requests are open (even with the hiatus, take care of yourself:3) so, I wanted to know if it's okay if I make my own? From Yandere Lucifer Morningstar's general headcanons(from Hazbin Hotel), perhaps the reader could take Eve's place, being the "first sinner" or/and converted demon like Lilith.

If you're already maxed out with Requests, that's fine! I will order in another time, take all the time you need❤️You can ignore this if that's the case

(HAZBIN) YANDERE! LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR x EVE! READER: Headcannons

RECEIPT ✂- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

BARISTA'S NOTE: HEYYYY GIRLIE!!! THANKS SO MUCH!! i love that u requested him cause he's one of my favourites (i had a lot of fun with this req, LOVE THE CONCEPT) and would be if it wasn't for Carmilla :]. FANDOM: Hazbin Hotel

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

Lucifer Morningstar! King of Hell, King of Pride and one goofy motherfucker!

Also a dangerous yandere to have.

I headcannon Lucifer as a Desperate, Possessive, Protective and Worshiping yandere.

Desperate in the way that Lucifer is just so lonely. Even when he did have something with Lilith in the beginning (They never got married in this scenario), It never felt connected. Even as the ugly duckling amongst the angels, He loves you because maybe.. Just maybe, You think like him, Maybe you love him. And he NEEDS you to love him too.

Possessive in the way that this ties into his Desperation, So enamoured and focused on getting you to love him that he's bitter towards anyone who you even glance at. You're his, Lucifer gets antsy if you even look another persons way (God forbid, Adams.). You should look at him, Listen to him and his ideas.

Protective in the way that he's terrified of losing you. You're still only mortal, And if you die then you'll fall into hell (If not, Heaven) and even Lucifer knows that's no place for you to be! You're too good for a place like that, He needs to make sure you'll be fine with him down there.. Especially with all the sinners running about.

And finally, Worshiping in the way that he just adores you. I mean, Come on. You're gorgeous, Intelligent, Curious, Brave and everything else he could ever want! How could he not worship you so?

So to establish you as an Eve! Reader, We're gonna go off my interpretation of Eve since we haven't seen her in the show yet.

You are you, Created from Adams left rib while the actual Eve was created from Adam's right.

God made both you and Eve to give Adam a choice of wife, Whichever one he chose would stand at his side for all of eternity. However the one that he didn't choose..

Well, You weren't quite sure what would happen to them, But you knew that you didn't want it to be you.

Eve was made beautiful, She was made pure and orderly. In other words, Eve was subserviant. Though you loved her like a sister, She was very much unlike you..

You on the other hand was made intelligent, Curious of the natural world and adventurous to the last letter. You craved knowledge, You craved to experiment.

In other words you were messy, Subserviant not to man but to your carnal desire to learn. But both you and your sister knew very well of what happened to Adam's first wife, So you knew that you had to go along with it all.

Lucifer came across you one day when he gazed upon the garden of Eden. He was startstruck when he saw you bathe within one of Eden's many springs, Washing your body on your lonesome while humming some original symphonic tune.

Lucifer was lured to you by your song, Him being an avid musician was not immune to your call. But he was even more entranced once he saw you in person, Your body only a silhouette in the fireflies that danced around you.

Of course by now he had been banished, So he watched you in the form of a snake in a tree.

Lucifer thought you were stunning at first sight, Watching as you bathed yourself in springwater and sing your siren's song. And he felt awkward, Nervous to approach you especially after his banishment.

So that's all he did, He just watched.

But that changed once you turned you caught eye of him too, Pausing your bath once you saw the pretty white snake hanging from the tree just a bit away from your spring.

Sure, Eden has a lot of animals, Snakes included but you've never seen one with such gorgeous white scales like this one. So you're curious, Beginning to churn your way through the waist-deep waters towards him.

Lucifer instantly starts panicking, You're actually approaching him?! As much as he does want to talk to you, He certainly hasn't gained the courage yet!

You make your way over and finally reach him with a small smile on your face, Reaching your arms out you bring the snake into your hands with suprising ease. You look at it closely, Smiling.

"Hello there.. How'd you get all the way out here?"

Lucifer near melts in your hands once he hears your spoken voice, Just as angelic as your singing. He can barely do anything in your hold, A warm, Passionate feeling starting to burst inside of him

"..I- Erm-"

You squeak, Dropping the snake onto the ground like you had touched hot coals. You weave back in the water, Staring dead at the coiling snake. It had spoken, Human language.

You ask who he was, Shocked once Lucifer speaks up and stammers while telling you that he was an Angel. He apologises profusely, Saying sorry for intruding on your bath.

You calm down once you find out he's an Angel, One of the good guys, Right? You hadn't met many angels, And its not like you had any experience of deception anyways.

Besides, His mannerisms were rather charming despite how awkward they sounded. You giggled as you apologised for dropping him, Reaching down to pick him up once more.

Lucifer and you talked for the entire night, Too enraptured in conversation for either of you to sleep.

He talked about the stars, The seas and the sands. How he himself had saw their creation and marveled at their beauty. You listened intently, Soaking it all in while your eyes gleamed at him like the stars under the night sky. Lucifer took pride, His stammers getting less frequent as he went on.

He also spoke of his ideas, His plans for the future and his vision for humanity. And you actually listened, You agreed, You suggested and spoke of your own ideas and he agreed in full. Wide eyed, Almost as if you read his mind.

And in that moment, You were just.. Perfect.

He had to leave once your sister came looking for you, Not wanting to be seen by her. Unfortunately he hadn't told you his name, But he supposed it was better like that so it wouldn't be known that he, Lucifer had been meddling in human affairs once more.

But he came back, He had to, You gave him such a good feeling. It was like you knew him, Like you agreed with him and accepted him as he was.

He couldn't give that up, No, He needed to come back.

And he did, For the next few weeks he returned to you at night when you were alone. In the form of a snake, One easily able to hide his presence. He spoke to you, Always excitedly hurrying once he had a new idea or invention he wanted to show you.

And you listened, You always did. He listened too, Once you told him of your situation with Adam. You lamented how much you just wanted to explore, To not be tied down by the weight of a husband.

Lucifer sympathised with you once you told him you had no choice, That Adam needed to marry you or you'd be tossed away like leftovers.

Lucifer started to bring you artefacts, Things you asked for and ones you wanted to study. Lucifer always stammered once you kissed the top of his head, If he was in his humanoid form he would be red from head to toe, Something he was glad you could not see.

He took you around the garden, Showing you the highs and the lows of this place. He showed you the rivers and the fields, The mountains and the valleys. Everywhere you could possibly go, Including the border of the gardens.

You thought he was funny, His jokes always brought a hearty laugh out of you. Lucifer always made an effort to tell more in your presence.

Lucifer wishes he was in his humanoid form so he could play his violin for you. Your voice is so beautiful and you sing to him every night, He wishes he could do the same for you.

You affectionately refer to him as simply just "My Angel" since you have a personal belief that he was sent to guide you. Lucifer doesn't correct you despite your beliefs, It gets him more praise that he desperately craves anyways.

Whenever you were away however, He still kept a close eye on you. Especially when you were around that sleaze of a man, Adam. Lucifer didn't like Adam, Especially after he had met you.

He watched as Adam was free to put an arm around your shoulders, Eve having the other. The way Adam boasted about himself, How he kept loudly asking which one of you should be his wife.

You didn't like Adam, But you needed to be wed so you weren't thrown away. So you kept tossing your hair like Eve always did, Laughed at his stupid jokes and leaned just a bit closer into him.

And it made Lucifer furious.

It boiled up in him like a stewing pot. Couldn't he see that he was making you uncomfortable? Couldn't he see that he wasn't good enough for you? Lucifer doesn't blame you, But hell, Does he wish you looked his way.

He wanted to save you from this, Get you away from Adam so that he can have you all to himself you can be happy! That glint in your eyes is gone, He needs you to get it back.

But Lucifer can't do anything. With the close eyes of the angels above watching them, There's no way he could do anything too drastic. As much as he wants to help, As much as he wants to snap Adams neck with his own bare hands. There's not much he can do..

But Lucifer is sure that once Adam chooses Eve, He'll be there to pick you up and sweep you down into hell where he can finally show his true form to you entirely.

He's sure of it.

But one day he had gotten distracted, You were with Adam so he hadn't been present at the time. But when he went to look back, Watch over you like he usually does.. He stops.

Eve is sobbing on her knees, Full on wails as Adam tenderly holds your hands. Lucifer realises what had happened by the look of uncertainty on your face, The way you looked at Eve with sympathy and fear.

Adam had chosen you.

Lucifer is shocked, He's pulling out clumps pf hair and slinging curses. Its unlike him, He sounded like a wild animal. He was so sure that Adam, As shallow as he was, Would choose the blonde beauty of Eve.

But he had chosen you, Not being as shallow as he had thought. Adam tells all the angels that he has officially chosen you, That you would be his wife. His chosen to be wed.

Lucifer can barely hold back anymore as he starts breaking down in an anguished rage. How could this happen? Aren't you gonna object to this? What about him, Did your time with him mean nothing?

But you just nodded slowly, Agreeing to be his wife.

It takes Lilith to calm him down, Rushing to his side as he starts hyperventilating, Trying not to break anything more. She speaks to him, Tells him of another way he can get you back.

And its a good idea.

You're wandering in the garden once more, Searching for your sister after she ran off sobbing. She'd be tossed out of the garden, You don't want that, You love her so you need to find her to see if there's a solution for everybody.

But you find your way to a deeper part of the garden, Where you were forbidden to go. You didn't even realise until you reached a clearing, Finally spotting the massive tree in the middle, Higher than all the rest with beautifully ripe fruit hanging from them.

You realise your mistake, You go to turn around but before you do you hear the voice of your friend, The angel.

You spot Lucifer coming down from the branches, Beckoning you over with that same excited voice, The one that you trusted with your life. And despite all of your instincts yelling no, You go towards him.

He greets you as cheery as ever, Slithering down from the branches yet he still kept a good distance. You tell him that you didn't mean to wander this far into forbidden land, Thinking that he was The Angel sent to bring you back.

Lucifer just shrugs it off though, Telling you that it's no big deal. You raise a brow before he beckons you forward, Congratulating you on your marriage to Adam that went by quicker than it should have.

You thank him nervously but tell him you have to go, But before you can leave he calls you back, Informing you that he came here to give you an engagement present. Something of his own making, Something he had worked really hard on..

You still trust him but the twisting feeling in your stomach gets worse once he presents to you a ruby red apple from behind the tree. Your eyes light up at it however, It was the most gorgeous apple you had ever seen. No blemishes or freckle out of place.

It was mesmerizing like a hypnotists watch, Your eyes kept on the carmine shine. You didn't even notice the gleeful giggling coming from Lucifer, Like a little girl on her birthday about to open her first present.

You took the apple into your hands once offered and despite all your better judgement, You placed it upon your lips before taking a bite into its skin. You chew, It's sweet, So sweet. It was the most sugary taste your tongue had held, Yet the pungency of the sour aftertaste came like a storm surge.

You snap out of it, Watching as the ruby red apple in your hand starts to rot away in record time. Mould and maggots already starting to fester, You scream and drop it to the ground, But by the time it hits it had already withered to the core.

You feel weird, You feel horrid. Suddenly you become aware of your naked form, Instantly rushing to cover your parts you start to yell at Lucifer, Begging him to tell you what you had done, What that apple really was. What spell had he put you under to take a bite of that thing? How stupid you were-!

But you snap your head up and the snake was no more, Instead a man with ivory skin and rosy cheeks. Platinum blonde hair slicked back with the most giddy grin you had ever seen on anyone before. Your eyes widen, And suddenly the knowledge of who you've been talking to hits you like a freight train.

He tries to talk to you but he can't get a word in. You scream, You cry, You wail. Accusing him with his own name, Lucifer. You start to hyperventilate, Backing away with him with a horrid stomach ache while storms brew in the sky above.

Lucifer tells you that its okay! He's found a way for you to get out of your marriage, He just tells you to listen to him and that it will be okay!

But you don't, A sudden chill runs through Eden and you know in your core that its not just you who has felt the consequences of your actions. Storms brew, Critters around you start to get violent. You yell and scream once he comes close, Trying to bring you into embrace.

Lucifer is taken aback, This isn't how he imagined it. You were suppose to listen to him, Like you always did. But instead you just kept wailing and wailing calling him a monster, The devil that he was.

You're suppose to listen to him, Him. To his ideas, To his words, To anything that he says. So why aren't you lending him an ear now?! He just doesn't get it.

Wings sprout from his back, An arm lunges around your waist and constricts around you like the snake that he was. You can't struggle in his hold, His power too strong as he raises you both into the air with the flap of his wings.

The storms are high, Dark clouds above and winds so whipping it could cause lacerations. Lucifer tells you that you're coming down with him now, That you will be siphoned away to hell with him forever.

Lucifer thinks your just overreacting, And hey! He's been there too and its not like he's actually angry at you, No, Just at the people around you. He knows you'll understand why he's doing this, That's why he tells you what he had done to your sister.

You go deathly silent once he tells you he's got Eve as collateral, When he explains with that same awkward yet now manic demeanour that you were so use to before. He says that he won't hesitate to take her out if that's what it'll take for you to listen, All while smiling like this is an everyday affair.

You and your sister had always had a rocky relationship, Especially since you were put in competition with each other from day one. But you loved her and she loved you, You cared for each other when you could despite your frequent quarrels.

So you had no choice but to agree, A smile lights up on Lucifer's face as he places a chaste yet stomach churning kiss upon your lips. It's nasty, Disgusting. You're still sobbing profusely as your altitude drops, Your climate becoming much hotter and humid.

You feel your body contorting, Mutilating itself. Breaking down and building back up into a wretched caricature of your former self. Horns, Talons, Features of creatures you hadn't even seen before coming upon you.

You scream through the pain, But Lucifer keeps a hand firmly placed on the back of your head. Cold comfort in your new inferno as he tells you how excited he is to finally have you with him full time.

You barely listen, Your body was not yours anymore, It didn't look as such. So how could you listen to his giddy ramblings? The ones you so loved to listen to before..

You shut the eyes your new body had melded, Falling into the darkness of your mind.

Desperately hoping that this was all a dream while the devil caressed your cheek.

[verinarin]

I need to repost this since the tags didn’t work T-T, but omg thankuu sm for asking and I love you (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵), anyways since you didn't specify on fluff/smut this would fully be fluff but I will make a full on smut on this specific trope lololol

spicy fluff | Someone flirted with you on his exhibition, he does not take your friendliness kindly

You're currently stuck in between a whiny Rafael and a wall, his breath warms your neck as he rests his arms beside your shoulders, leaning down to hold intense eye contact with you while caging your body like a prey, "Miss bodyguard, you're my bodyguard right ?" he voice softens but there's a distinct emphasis on the word 'my bodyguard’

“Yes Rafayel, I'm your bodyguard." you sigh as you try to make sense of how this happened in the first place, you were idly chitchatting with a person who was admiring Rafael's painting at the exhibition.

The guy made some silly jokes which made you laugh and then all of a sudden Rafael whisked you away to the closet filled with canvases and other works of his, "So if you're my bodyguard why didn't you stay beside me, what if some crazy stalker tackles me to the ground?!" he frowns, it took you quite the mental strength nor to laugh in front of his face

It is clear as day that it's not your work ethic that he's questioning, but rather the fact that you were idly talking with someone else, he's jealous

"Well I don't think someone is going to tackle you to the ground princess, I already did a thorough background check on all of your guests." you chuckle, his face turns into a pinkish hue as he mumbles a curse

But something didn't feel right, you could see a mischievous glint reflecting from his eyes. He leans in closer, way too close that you can feel his soft lips against your neck,

"Well that doesn't change the fact that you should've been by my side during the exhibition." he mumbles against your neck, you can feel his sentences forming a silent spell on your neck, like a siren his voice lingers in your ear, guiding you to meet his wants

You want to move away but before you can he gripped your wrist and pins it over your head while his other hand holds your waist tight, keeping you in place, "Miss bodyguard I think you need repay the for the lost time by indulging me, I don't pay cheap money for your service y'know ? he whispers beside your ear, you body shudders at the electrifying feeling

"Rafayel, are you jealous ?" you ask teasingly, he scoffs before dragging your body closer to his own, your chest presses against his before he replies, "What do you think?, it's open for interpretation,"

"I think that you're jealous and you're trying to mark my skin before letting me out so the guy from earlier would back down," you deduce as much, he seems to be pleased with your answer,

"Well I know you're a smart one Miss bodyguard, but the question I'd like to ask is would you let me be childish enough to mark your skin with my love just because I'm jealous" he asks as he kisses the side of your neck

"Yes you can, but promise me you won't do it too hard," you huff which he replies with a chuckle of his own "Can't promise you that, sorry." he smirks against your skin before latching his teeth on the poor skin

Well let's just say you have freshly tinted purple marks on y while standing beside him who's conversing with his guest, how embarrassing !

[morgana-ren]

Throwing out the idea that Astarion furiously masturbates over your sleeping body while he drinks your blood. Your blood is the first he’s ever drank in 200 years, it also dosn’t help that you keep being so nice to him. He can’t help it.

I am sorta back after months of medical troubles and I am announcing it in my normal fashion: with a reprehensible smut piece.

Warning: Extreme sexual content, vulgar language, thoughts of noncon, references to noncon, semi-dark Astarion, things that could be interpreted as sexual violence and regular violence, blood and the works.

The skulking has him feeling like more of a lowly rat than usual. He slinks quietly through the fauna like a cat stalking a canary, sneaking across the camp where he has made his own nest, his eyes darting about at every slight flicker of light and every unexpected noise. His comrades-in-arms sleep peacefully, strewn about the ground and various makeshift tents, blissfully unaware that a monster lurks within their midsts, and he fully intends to keep it that way.

As dastardly and lowly as he feels, an unknown feeling courses through him. Something that leaves him feeling strong– predatory. The weak blood of rodents and livestock thrums through his veins, every synapse sparking alive, the string and sinew of his body singing to his limbs in anticipation. Anxiety sends his thoughts racing, and yet, he is giddy as a child with mischief on the mind.

A long-denied truth demands acknowledgement, and so he finally acknowledges it. He is vampire. And he is hunting. 

Even a spawn possesses fangs sharp enough to rend flesh from bone and claws of steel, honed to a fine point. His senses so keen that he is aware of the deer that scamper in the forest and the birds coupled away in the branches of trees on the outskirts of the meadow. The pulsing of blood that rings a siren’s song in his ears, awakening the long-dead glands nestled alongside his teeth.

He finds that, for once, he is not the victim in the arrangement. No, he isn't. In fact, he is the horror, looming over his vulnerable and slumbering mark, their body entirely at his mercy— His right to his to sink deep fang and claw and anything else he might deem fit, helpless to stop him. For once, his true self shines through in the dim firelight of camp, and he is not the Astarion he has been browbeaten into seeing himself as. He is not unmolded clay, ready to be shaped at will by clutching hands and eager thoughts. He is not malleable and he shall not bend. 

He is not Astarion the spawn; Astarion the mongrel; Astarion the Honeypot; Astarion the tool to be used and discarded. He is not the meek, or the charming, or whatever else his prey finds need of. He is power and gluttonous greed incarnate. He is the prowling shadow over the unsuspecting sweet and he will take what he needs. 

He is Astarion the Vampire– and he is ravenous.

The gentle toe-tip-toe through the grass to where his prey lies ignorant, sleeping so terribly peacefully, his silken shoes making nary a sound as he creeps ever closer. Feet light as air, graceful as a swan. Even the wind seems to disregard his presence, passing over him with hardly a fuss through his silver curls.

They suspect not a thing. Even the warrioress Lae’zel, her sharpened senses whetted like a blade, keeps her eyes sheathed shut, her breath even and her body unmoving. There is no cry of anger or protest as he approaches the clutch of blankets where you have made your rest, leering over your slumbering form, feeling all parts pure need as he observes.

Saliva slicks his ivory teeth like a slavering mutt, his hands almost shaking as he kneels on bended knee to witness the gently pulsing column of your exposed throat. It calls to him, sings to his senses, and every ounce of his being begs him to shred hungrily into his meal like a carnivore– like a beaten animal starved of nourishment. Like a dog offered scraps of offal.

But he is not an animal, and you are useful to him yet. He is dignified, but more than that, he is in control of himself. He is in control of his words and actions, and for one time in his all-too-long life, he will not yield to the whims of another, even the dark voice in the back of his mind that urges him to rip and tear and maul like the wretched thing he is. 

No, his first meal will not be one of viscera and terror and screaming, even as the idea appeals to the baser parts of him. It shall be quiet and quick as a rogue in the night, and though he would expect disappointment from the revelation, he finds that this moment shared privately with himself and only himself is something he intends to treasure. 

He has named you for his mark for this most special of occasions. Even as he knows you likely wouldn’t feel honored by such a thing, he feels a quiet sense of pride on your behalf. You are his first taste of true life. A place of high honor in the triumvirate of freedom:

His first glimpse of the sun; his first venture into the world; his first true meal. 

Gentle as a lover, he kneels over you, teeth bared, scarlet eyes flashing in the firelight. A calm hand on your shoulder to steady you, the other splayed across the grass to anchor himself. His fingers quake in both eagerness and anxiety, his hearing hypersensitive to every rustle and sigh that does not belong to the chorus of nature in the evening hours. He has committed himself to this, but to be caught is to condemn himself red-handed to the stake– a fate he’d rather avoid. 

As he leans, his teeth gliding gently across delicate, slightly dampened skin, he believes it worth the risk. 

The tang of sweat and flesh hits his taste buds as he softly glides his tongue across the pulse-point of your throat. He licks where he intends to find his feast, savoring the flavor of his intended prey. Many times he had caught himself staring, wondering what it might be like; what you might be like, and he fully intends to satiate the curiosity that had been building in his brain for weeks on end.

As he indulges himself in the thought, he finds he can no longer wait. He tells himself he cannot stall– cannot draw this out as he might’ve liked to– but the nagging churning in his gut rings above all else. He is starved and he must sate it. He does not join in the argument between the two warring forces in his mind, and instead resorts to pure instinct to settle the matter. 

His fangs dimple tender flesh at first, and then, soft as a whisper, sink inside. Lifeblood floods his mouth like a symphony of rapture, the taste of ecstasy on his tongue, and his lips clamp like a viper on your throat, eager and yearning for more. It is as liquid fire as it slides down his throat, your soft whimpering spurring in tandem with the  glory that branches through his every quivering limb and sets his mind alight. His eyes, vigilant at first, now flutter shut, allowing himself to fall into the velvet-cloaked abyss.

The thousand-year fog lifts from his brain as he drinks and for the first time since breath still filled his lungs, he feels right. 

Raw strength almost seems to inflate his lean muscle, plucking a harpsichord on his tendons. The pounding drum of your rabbiting heart beneath your ribs plays in tandem with the rush of blood in his ears. The deafening cacophony of the cold, miserable years is blasted away and finally stitches together in unison with an ethereal orchestra of utter intoxication. A preternaturally beautiful song that lulls him into the first sense of peace he has felt in years– perhaps that he has ever felt. A tune he shall never forget for as long as he lives.

His senses soar so high that he swears, beneath the deafening chorus of euphoria, he can hear the revelry as far as Baldur’s Gate. In his mind’s eye, the unsuspecting citizens of the Jewel are celebrating the birth of a new man born under the silvery spears of moonlight miles away. These many long years, he has been truly dead, and only now, he is resurrected in the swaddling shroud of blood and dark. He has been truly reborn. At one with himself at last, he thinks. At one with you. 

The blood falls easily down his throat, pooling warmly in his gut in glorious fulfillment. The delirium tendrils outward, gently coaxing bliss and promise where it caresses. His legs buckle, pale cheeks hot and flushed, some unknown sensation taking hold like a fist as he suckles and refusing to relinquish the iron grip. The low of his abdomen tingles, drawing in life like a vacuum to a place once desolate and lifeless. 

It is a feeling he cannot place at first. Something dusted and forgotten and placed far and away in his mind, out of reach. And yet, as the delectable warmth floods every inch of his body anew, he experiences it as plainly as when his heart still beat in his chest and youth was as inevitable as the rising sun. The needle-thin hairs of his body stand on end, palms beginning to sweat against your shoulder. A primal need swells in his stomach, a gentle throbbing between his thighs that translates into pain as he strains against the leather of his breeches. 

Arousal. 

Desire bleeds into itself, separate colors swirling together to become one enthralling splash on the rapacious canvas of his brain. The scalding hot bliss of the feed and the tiny, breathy mewls of your still-sleeping form. You have given him what he so desperately coveted, and now, it seems, his nature demands he take more– everything you hold dear in its entirety offered up at the altar of his superior strength and cunning and existence. 

The inherent eroticism of feeding is not lost on him, but it has never held any meaning until this moment. Lust is a cruel stranger that he has opted to spurn. Something wielded against him as a weapon– a barbed whip that has flogged and scarred him into conditioned disgust. It is unfamiliar at first, and yet it screams now with the same familiarity as every other function and twice as demanding. 

Pale lashes flutter open, doubled vision focusing in almost too sharply on your strained features: the soft furrow of your brow, the scrunch of your still-closed eyes, the soft pout of your petal-pink lips, slick with moisture from your unconscious whines of pain. He has noticed you, yes, in the way another might notice a dagger or a halberd or a stocky shield to wield. Your appearance is just one in a long line of defenses he intended to harvest for his own gain, and yet now, as he hazily stares at the shadow of your profile that flickers in the flames, he feels the unmistakable curl and coil of a different kind of need. 

Something steely clamps onto his consciousness beyond the haze of unreason. He cannot. That is too far, and something distant and shrill in his mind knows it. As desperate as he is to crawl atop and mount you, leaving you breathless and hoarse in his wake, he cannot. Some things can never be forgiven, and he has already crossed that line for his own well-being. Ravaging you as you lie vulnerable and helpless– trusting– serves no purpose in keeping him alive.

He tells himself this, his suckling receding to a temperate drawl, laving tongue and teeth across the puncture wounds. The baser parts of him cry protest, the pulsing becoming more insistent with each passing second, until it leaves him knock-kneed and clutching at the grass for purchase against the cresting tide of want. All variety of debased scenarios fly through his mind, each one more debauched than the last. 

Control and lust, two things unfamiliar with each other before now due to the cruel nature of his existence, fold in perfectly as one and sharpen into a vengeful blade he craves to use. How he longs to leave a wound as deep as the one he carries day after day, unrelenting and open as the day it was wrought. He wants to lash out, to strike, to take as he pleases as the world has taken so from him–

A wound not meant for you, he must remind himself through the hot-pink haze, even as it defies him. 

No. It is a line he will not cross. He is a monster, but he is a monster of a different breed. You have given him everything, even as you do not know it. More pragmatically, he will not give his life for one brief, violent encounter of forcefully obliged desire. He is worth more than such vile things, he tells himself, and strangely, he finds as he ponders it, so too are you. 

He repeats it in his head as a mantra, over and over, practically yelling it over the tidal wave of instinctual impulse that threatens to drag him undertow. He is his own man, and he shall not be controlled ever again; not by Cazador, and certainly not by the more wretched pieces of himself, even as they screech and claw at the cell where he has locked them away, howling their dreadful, unspeakable demands.

It does not abate. The insistent pulse of blood that brings long forgotten life to his appetite, the mortifyingly genuine urge that begs him to touch you, feel you, taste you in the ways he has not craved in eons. It frightens him, and yet, even as he longs to pull himself away, to run and run and run into the darkness where neither you nor this horrible need can find him, he does not. He sits still as a marble statue, almost as if carved in some grotesque form of this heinous moment captured in one rotten, eternal exhibit: half atop your sleeping body, clutching and panting in need, and half splayed absurdly in the dirt, straining and desperately trying to conceal his shame from some invisible force that mocks him.

He cannot have you. Even as he yearns and craves it with a fire that singes and burns his overactive nerves and imagination, he cannot. Yet, his body will not relent, demanding release from the torment that plagues both his mind and his nethers in equal form, paralyzing him in a dangerous inactivity. You won’t awaken– he has taken too much and your weakness is apparent– but the others might and he must act. Compromise is a risk he cannot take–

And still he must. 

And so, even as he should withdraw and return to the pitiful, empty loneliness of his tent, he does not. Instead, he realigns himself, as quiet and swift as the wind, still half-perched over you, but with a newly freed hand to his disposal for a contemptible purpose. It snakes the length of his torso to the waist of his breeches, his dexterous fingers undoing the laces with desperate speed and agility, his expression equal parts humiliation, shame, and anxious desire. He slides the waistband down enough that his long-neglected cock springs free, his muscles bracing and tensed as his newly blood-warmed flesh is chilled in the cool night air. Pinprick pores betray his discomfort at the crisp evening gale, but the rest of himself is otherwise occupied, consumed by his present task. 

One of his sharply tipped fangs worries at the swell of his plush lower lip as he wiggles his pants further down, both internally cursing and praising the newly unlocked spectrum of his vampiric grace that make such conspicuous actions effortless and reticent. Even as he is agile and practiced, each urgent movement feels fluid and natural. Silent as the grave and insignificant against the sounds of nature that envelop their surroundings. He does not fumble or falter, smooth as satin and with steely resolve as his palm finds his shaft and a shiver runs the length of his spine, settling readily in his abdomen.

In his previous encounters, he could put himself into working order, but nothing like this. It was a job– something that must be done, no matter how distasteful or degrading. What he feels now, it’s almost foreign to him; his cock strangely hot and pulsing with a heartbeat of its own. Heavy as sin in his hand and just as demanding, just as cruel in its insistence. Stiff and throbbing, a compass point dogged and unrelenting as it seeks to nestle between your wet, silky thighs and burrow there. It shrieks in his head, unsatisfied and wailing at his refusal to acquiesce. 

He ignores it, testing with one brusque stroke with his palm. It twitches, pleasure blooming upward through his gut even at the slightest of contact. Again, he tightens his fingers around his girth, pumping slowly as the sepulcher where he had locked away all dead semblance of lustful craving and fervor comes to life once more. As he thumbs the top, he feels the thin, sticky fluid leak from the tip, betraying his eagerness even as he pretends composure– as much composure as he can pretend in this unbelievably humiliating debacle. 

He will have to worry about that later. 

His eyes sweep over your face once more, peaceful now that his teeth no longer injure your tender neck. Your lips slightly agape, eyelashes fluttering softly as you sweetly dream once more. He imagines how different it might look if he were to uncage his urges– to allow himself the forbidden pleasure of sinking himself inside of you twice in one night. How your eyes might fly open in horror, your lips ready to shriek, little fists balled in defense, only to gasp as he pushes his length between your splayed thighs, enveloping himself in your tight, wet heat. White-hot. Exquisite. Immaculate.

The companions are gone– no, they don’t exist. It is only you and him now, you sprawled beneath him, half shock and half horror, and he– the predator that has stalked you from the shadows, the vampire in the night– taking as he pleases, as is his right. He feels your velvet walls flutter around him, trying to adjust to the cruel new thickness bullying inside them, squeezing him in the most delicious way. Your mouth is still open in a wordless cry as he plunges his tongue between your teeth, tasting a different part of you now, swallowing the desperate sounds you begin to make. 

His cock throbs against the calloused flesh of his palm as he strokes himself, teeth gritting to quiet the noise that bubbles in his throat from the blossoming pleasure that takes root and begins to grow rapidly out of control. The fantasy plays in perfect form in his head, and it almost feels real as he gathers the precum in the crook of his thumb and slicks it over the shaft with firm fingers, pretending it’s your body that wets and grips him.

You would fight and struggle– he knows you would– but you are nothing in the face of his sheer strength and dominance. Pinned by the deceptively strong muscle of his lean body, you have no choice but to follow his lead, thighs forced wider to accommodate his narrow hips, back pressed firmly against the ground by his weight. Your tits, warm and soft beneath the thin fabric of your nightshirt and begging to be squeezed, squashed against him with the frantic rise and fall of your chest.

The squeal his first thrust would rip from you would be heavenly. High-pitched and pathetic, and yet almost drowned out by the equally sweet clench of your body around his. So tight that it almost aches him, unaccustomed to the intrusion and compelled to yield to him, moulding itself to the shape of him inside of you. He slides out slow, almost callous and so terribly casual in his malice, making you feel every inch of him drag against the supple walls of your cunt before slamming in again, vicious in his impact. Your body jumps beneath him from the force, whining into his mouth. Your blunt nails digging into his arms and tearing at his frigid, stone flesh. It is futile– he can barely even feel it, and the slight sting he can is laced with pleasure and the reminder that you are at his mercy now.

He is panting, breath coming in ragged staccato bursts even as it is unnecessary to him. Pure instinct has a hold of him now, his hand working in unfailing rhythm between his thighs as he loses himself in the vision. Your injury weeps ever so slightly, and he cannot help the flick of his tongue along the twin-pocked bitemarks, leaving a thinly shining trail of blood-streaked saliva in his wake. He aches to touch you; to slip the delicate sleeve of your nightwear down and indulge himself in the softness of your body. 

He is not so subtle in his mind. He simply tears the garment, ripping it from your body with terrible ease. One hand busies itself with containing yours above your head, squeezing at the wrist to keep you captive even as you thrash, the other luckier still as it gropes and pinches your breast. Warm in his hand, he can feel your pulse skyrocketing in fear or perhaps excitement– whichever suits him most– as he reels back and cants his hips forward again. 

His hips slap against your thighs with bruising strength, your body beginning to respond to his in kind. He feels your wetness slick over his cock and lubricate his next few thrusts, heightening his pleasure. You mewl against his tongue, body arching into his, perhaps against your own will, fingers flexing and furling fruitlessly in his grasp. He settles into rhythm, cruel but precise, hips grinding with every punctuating impetus. It takes an absurd amount of mental discipline not to simply take you in furious, animalistic fashion as he longs, but he manages through the impulse, lower body moving in circular rhythm, his pelvic bone stimulating you with each contact. 

Your panicked breaths become heaving pants, flittering eyes glazing over and becoming heavy, the muscles that are pulled so tautly in defense waver and eventually flop, accepting your defeat at his hands. Perhaps you are betrayed and hurt and hateful, but you desire him. He is beautiful in the moonlight, pale as a ghost but alive and burning with unhinged need and that same fire kindles between your legs and winds and winds tighter like a top before the spin. He releases your swollen, puffy lips only for his fangs to find your throat and your cry is desperate and howling, your blood sweeter than the finest wine as it touches his tongue. 

You cannot formulate words– neither of encouragement nor protest– as he fucks you relentlessly into the ground, helping himself to your body and your blood. Only nasally, frantic cries can make it past your throat, your hands grasping at him, pleading and desperate. He hooks your thigh around his waist, fingers digging into the flesh with bruising strength, and you clamp it there, almost as if clinging to him for purchase as he bucks and snaps, snarling like a beast perched to pounce.

You are helpless and small and defenseless and vulnerable in the face of him, and he is strong and virile and predatory and fearsome. He has no need of your protection; he is the ruthless power of the night and the fear the lurks in the dark. He ravages you with no regard to the future, knowing only that he holds it in his palm, and if he wants you, he shall take you. He does not walk in shadow and skulk in fear, but boldly in the open, the world and you ripe for the plucking. 

He cannot help it. His hand is not enough. Ecstasy builds in his apex, building and bubbling at his fantasy, but he needs to feel. The hand not currently stroking himself in frantic need finds a way under the loose opening of your shirt, defying his mental mantra. The curve of your breast coaxes his skin, swelling and warm against his flesh as his insubordinate fingers find their way lower and lower under your blouse. Your nipple peaks as he gently rolls it in his careful, ghostlike fingertips, squeezing at your chest with an inhuman tenderness that only has him craving harder, more– 

Your cries would come in unison with his own, yours wailing and pathetic and squealing, and his rugged and husky and snarling. You would bare yourself to him– all of you– acquiescing to his unrelenting power. He would take you there, on the ground like an animal how he pleased and for as long as he pleased. Now you are the clay for him to shape and play with and use as he pleases, existing only for him and his wants. Your blood is in no short supply, and he sups and dines as he pleases while he uses your body to pleasure his cock and the baser parts of himself that have reignited inside of your core. You are powerless to fight him, so you give yourself over completely to him, debasing yourself for him, crawling for him, needing him. 

You’d beg for him, body and soul, so eager and ready. Desperate and pathetic. He’d fuck you until your whines became higher and higher, eventually spilling into the night in humiliating urgency as you came undone beneath him. Your legs quivering and shaking, senses gone and inhibition nonexistent. Your fluttering walls would tighten and squeeze and damn near strangle him, the absurd sound of your wetness utterly mortifying if you had your wits about you, but music to his ears. 

Harder and faster with no regard for your overstimulated crooning, he’d take you, working himself to his peak, almost rabid in his unhinged, disjointed movements. His rhythm would fail, becoming more convulsive and urgent with every plunge of his hips. He’d chase his end inside of you, the blissful heat of your body, the cadence of your moans, and snug, velveteen swaddling of your sopping cunt the closest taste of the divines he’ll ever have– that he’ll ever want. 

He’d cum inside of you, burying himself so deep that he’d be certain you could taste it. It would spill out of you as he milked himself to completion with your pliant body, heaving against your bloody neck, a hand in your hair to rip your head back and drag down against him. Bruised inside and out in the shape of him, his hands, his teeth, his cock all leaving their permanent mark. It won’t heal, it won’t ever heal, he’ll make sure of it–

It’s his– it’s his– it’s all for him and no one else. Not even the Gods could wrestle this away from him. There isn’t a force in the planes that could pry him from atop you– you belong to him, your body, your mind, your tongue, your taste, your cunt–

His cock throbs furiously in his hand, gritted pants and strangled noises escaping his throat. It is only through sheer supernatural ability that he is able to withdraw his hand from your shirt and catch himself before he slumps completely atop you, no doubt waking you with the force of it. The ecstasy spills over, unfettered bliss exploding outward from his core and sparking fire throughout every inch of his body. His eyes roll backward, head slooping forward as he works his pulsing cock, every last ounce of self-control in his ancient body holding back a howling cry. 

He spills into his palm, carelessly covering his shaft in the sticky, gossamer fluid as he milks clean the very last remnants of pleasure from himself with the fervor of a man starved of it. His toes curl in his shoes, teeth gritting to the point of pain as he withholds a sigh of euphoria. His extremities tingle as his body sags, muscles exhausted and screaming from the exertion, and he almost collapses as it fades from him as quickly as it approached, still singing beautiful contentment somewhere deep inside of him.

Sagging completely into the dirt, he lies there, bare and open to the sky: Hand defiled and dripping with the seed of his shame, sweat wetting the delicate white curls behind his ears, breeches pulled cleanly to his akimbo knees. It takes a moment for the world to settle into his foggy brain once more, but shame cuts as cleanly as a knife as the clouds of desire split and the light of reality once again illuminates the situation. 

Frantic fear takes hold of his stomach, and his head swivels towards where you sleep, calmed only by the fact that you still sleep soundly with no inkling or inclination as to what he has just done. As he glances around, the rest of the camp is equally unaware, each person neatly in their place, unmoving and unalert. His secret is his and no one elses.

He allows himself a few moments to catch the breath he does not need, wiping the evidence of the encounter into the grass with a sense of disgust and indignity as he does. He feels remarkable– alive for the first time in centuries– and yet it is marred by the yoke of scandal he feels having been bested by such an absurd thing. Overwhelming desire he has not felt since he was a young, handsome elf brimming with potential and swarming with suitors, back when his chest still beat with blood and his skin was flushed and warm rather than pale and pallor. 

It’s unfamiliar to him, and he bares his teeth at the thought. Sex is something filthy and cursed– and yet it didn’t feel so in the moment. Even now, his fingertips tingle at the thought of your puckered peak gently caressed, the soft sound of your sighs, the vulnerability you show him. He’d barely touched you and yet you sent his senses alight like a bonfire. The taste of you still lingers on his tongue, and he cannot help but savor it. As he hikes the band of his pants back up his hips, he feels shame, yes, but also something different. Something oceans away from the helpless misery he usually feels after the degrading act. 

He feels at peace. He feels satisfaction. He feels right. He does not feel debased, but empowered– almost giggly as a schoolboy at the wrongness of it all.

He chose this. For the first time he can remember, he chose this. He took control and his pleasure did not come at his own expense. It came at yours, yes, but he doesn’t like to make a habit of grappling with fragile, banal things such as morality. He is a libertine, and where he finds pleasure, he shall take it, because he knows all too well what it is to be starved of it and all that makes life worth living. 

Besides, you seem fine. Sleeping deep as a babe in the cradle, none the wiser. As he sits right and dabs potion at the wounds at your neck so as to not leave a trace of his crime, he allows himself one quiet, satisfied sigh. It disconcerts him that as he studies your slumbering body and slack face, he feels pinpricks in his core once again, whispering remnants of that desire that had unhinged him so before, but he will have to unpack that later. 

He is no fool. Something has changed, and it isn’t the strength that flows through him free as a fountain that was once clogged and stunted, nor the heightened attunement of his mind to damn near everything around him to the point of absurdity. He feels right for the first time with the blood he has stolen away with, and smug at getting away with something so risky as he often does, but more than that. 

He is a vampire fully satisfied in more ways than one, and the fulfillment and delight he feels overrides the shame and wrestles it into the quiet. 

You are something to him, though he isn’t sure what. He had not questioned why he’d picked you before, but the question begs itself now. He does not allow himself the indulgence of touching you once more. He doesn’t taste you or feel your skin. He only withdraws as silently as he came, backing off and away from the light of the fire that burns low, dying embers spitting against charred, ashen logs, his shadow stretching long before disappearing into the dark of the night. 

As he moves back to his tent, he stalks the shadows, but he does so with head held high, back straight as a bow, graceful and the very picture of pride. There’s an unmistakable grin on his reddened lips and a flush to his face not wholly attributed to the blood that now courses through him. Pieces of himself unlocked after so many years of servitude. He feels himself again, and the world feels his oyster once more. What your role is in that world, he doesn’t know yet. 

But he has a feeling he’ll figure it out soon enough.

[kokomyass]

Can I ask a request for genshin characters? Can you do one where the guys find out your a siren or mermaid? Like they know you have a secert but they find out by accident.

Maybe with diluc, wriothesley, kaeya, xaio, or Arlecchino and the children maybe.

Thanks. I love your work alot. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I can't wait for any update you have 🥰

heyy pookie!!! I'm so happy you came back with some characters because I LURVE this request!!

thank you so much for reading my works and im glad you like it!! 🪻💜

i have never written anything like this before and I haven't read it so I hope I interpret it correctly <3

Genshin Headcannons ☆ Genshin characters find out you are a mermaid

Genshin x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!

featuring: Diluc, Wriothesley, Kaeya

synopsis: in which the genshin boys find out about your little secret...

Notes: you are married to Diluc, you are Neuvillette's daughter in Wriothesley's one and you are a Knight in Kaeya's one 🪻

Diluc

You and your husband, Diluc, were on a leisurely walk around the Dawn Winery.

You hadn't been able to spend much time together since Diluc had been busy with work matters and as much as he wanted to spend some quality time with you one thing or another seemed to prevent that from happening.

On his side, things like business trips, calls and paperwork stopped him from relaxing with you.

However...on your side, the odd secret that you were keeping stopped you from wanting to go out.

Of course, with Diluc being your husband and all, he noticed how odd it was for you to not want to go out at all, but blamed it on the hormones, so when you wanted to go out all of a sudden when you were both free, he didn't think anything of it, other than a chance to spend some romantic and peaceful time together.

"The weather's is so lovely, no?" you say breaking the comfortable silence between you and Diluc.

"Very much so my dear, it's nice to finally be able to go out with you." Diluc looks down at you smiling softly.

You chuckle nervously as you swing your entwined hands back and forth.

"Of course!! Everyone has been so busy recently, huh...."

Diluc looks down at you once again but this time with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, yes I have been busy, but I thought you had plenty of free time." Diluc had caught you red handed as you sweatdropped.

You didn't know what to say as you flung your arms about trying to remove any suspicions Diluc may have had.

"You see honey, I am busy....but in my own- AGHH!!"

Just as you were about to give some wack ass excuses you weren't paying attention to your footpath (something you said you would DEFINITELY do) and tripped over a rock, falling into the nearby lake.

"Y/N!!! Are you okay?!" Diluc rushed to your aid jumping in the water with no hesitation despite your desperate pleas for him not to.

As he lifted you from the water his face contorted with confusion.

He held your mermaid tail in his hands, with hues of fiery red, each scale reflecting the flickering glow of the underwater sun. It moved with a sinuous grace, leaving trails of crimson in its wake, as if the ocean itself were aflame with passion.

"Diluc....I can explain-"

"Is this why you were hesitant to go out? I don't see why it should be something you want to hide? It is so elegant and beautiful, darling...."

Diluc seemed unfazed by what you thought would be a horrible shock.

"So you aren't mad...or anything?" you mumble looking away embarrassed.

"Of course not although, I'm rather annoyed all this stopped you from wanting to go out with me."

"I'm sorryyyy!!" You wrap your arms around Diluc's neck as he carries you back to the Dawn Winery slowly placing a gentle kiss on your wet forehead.

Wriothesley

"Y/N, I'm going to need you to go down to the Fortress once again."

Neuvillette (your father) often sent you down to the Fortress of Meropide to help out the staff down there- especially Wriothesley, and as much as you LOVED seeing Wriothesley, he knew you hated it because of how damp it was, for MANY reasons.

"But Dad! You know how risky it is....I've been going there so much lately." You wined whilst pouting hoping that was enough to convince Neuvillette to let you stay.

"I thought you loved spending time with the Duke, since you always come back looking all lovesick." Neuvillette smirked as he kept on writing on his documents whilst you got all flustered stomping off to go to the Fortress.

Everytime you went there you looked like you were going scuba diving and although the first few times everyone was caught off guard they seemed to be used to it.

Time Skip

"Hey Wrio! Guess who sent me down here again...." your strolled into the Duke's office casually as he looked up from his work smiling.

"None other than the Iudex, I assume. What did you do to make him hate you so much?" Wriothesley asked crossing his arms raising an eyebrow, not knowing the Iudex is actually your father.

"Eh...who knows...doesn't matter..."

You skipped up the steps and to your dismay, just as you reached the top step you tripped and landed on your face on the damp floor.

Now, in any other circumstances this would've been fine...but you weren't wearing much protective gear because you were in such a hurry, so when you grew a mermaid tail out of nowhere you felt extremely regretful.

"Y/N! Are you oka-" he stopped what he was saying as his jaw hung open.

All you could do was stare into Wriothesley's wide eyes of shock as the longest 5 seconds of your life went by.

Your tail was a delicate shade of light blue, reminiscent of the clearest summer sky reflected in tranquil waters. Quite pretty if you did say so yourself~

"....I can't believe my own crush is seeing me like this..." you mumbled looking to the ground hoping Wriothesley didn't hear.

"Crush? On me?," Wriothesley let out a hearty laugh, "Here I was thinking about asking you out on a date, but hearing that makes my job 10 times easier."

Amidst your embarrassment you felt overjoyed at the fact Wriothesley reciprocated your feelings.

"So...you aren't put off by my mermaid tail?"

Wriothesley shrugged his shoulders, "Why would I be? I've definitely seen worse and it's so glamorous."

You got so flustered at Wriothesley's compliments that you forgot you were on the floor and unable to move.

"Hey Wrio, do you mind helping me off the floor?" you asked sweatdropping.

Wriothesley laughed once again before picking you up bridal style and walking you to a chair. You rested your head on his chest before perking up to look up at him.

"Oh by the way...now would be a good time to say...Neuvillette is my dad."

He stopped in his steps, and looked down at you, "You know, that makes everything much more explicable for some reasons."

You both shared a warm laugh as you wrapped you arms around him giving him a tight hug.

Kaeya

"Y/N and Kaeya, all I need from you two today is to get rid of some treasure hoarders in Windrise....and other than that you are free to go."

"Would you look at that Y/N, it's our lucky day!~" Kaeya chuckled softly guiding you out of the Acting Grand Masters office.

You were both members of the Knight of Favonius, although you were just a normal Knight and Kaeya was the Cavalry Captain.

Even though you were ranked differently you were frequently going on missions together since you were not only romantically compatible but very compatible in battle.

"Treasure Hoarders are the easiest to fight....today will be a breeze, maybe we can go on a cute date afterwards?"

You cling to Kaeya's arm jokingly begging him to go on a date with you. Kaeya pulls out some water to drink as you stiffen hoping he doesn't get it it contact with you so some....bad...things don't happen. You slowly unwind your arms from Kaeya's and hope he doesn't notice this small action.

"Of course sweetheart, I never refuse a date with you." he bends down and places a soft kiss on you nose, walking off humming as you end up having to jog up to him.

Time Skip

You make it to Windrise, and the Treasure Hoarders seem to be dumber than others because you sneak up right behind them and they don't notice.

"Why hello there fellow people, and what do we have here?" The smirk in Kaeya's voice was so evident and the Treasure Hoarders whipped their heads round preparing for a fight.

Unfortunately for them they got taken down by both of you pretty quickly.

You and Kaeya high-five like you always do after a battle.

"That was an easy battle wasn't it?" Kaeya said as you began to walk back.

"It's always easy when it's the two of us." Kaeya smirks. You started laughing and completely unbeknownst to you a baby hydro slime was jumping up to you.

Before you knew it you got hit by the cute baby hydro slime and miraculously your mermaid tail formed. It was swirled with the deep, mysterious allure of navy blue, a bit like that of the midnight sky.

"Y/N!" Kaeya whipped his head as fast as he could losing his laid-back attitude in a second.

However, when he turned to see a baby hydro slime jumping on you with a mermaid tail he couldn't help but let out the most hearty laugh of all.

"Kaeya! Instead of standing there laughing, help me out!!"

Kaeya helped you after 30 seconds of laughing at you suffering.

He held you in his hands as he tried to find somewhere to sit so your tail would wear off. You sat in silence whilst Kaeya got some shut eye.

"...So you aren't shocked or anything?" you asked genuinely confused. You thought he would be flabbergasted.

"Haha! I knew all along sweetheart."

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED AS USUAL I HAVE NOT PROOF READ AND I WROTE THIS HALF AWAKE. LOVE YALL MWAHHHHH 💜🪻💜🪻💜🪻

[odesofmeddea]

trying on an argument why sam and dean were in factual canonical enmeshment: their bond presumes the absence of nuclear family or any long-term partner in the lives of either; the very formulation of this rigid condition - me or her, - is telling, overtly so, how their relationships are rooted bog-deep in the belief in its crucial self-sufficiency. the bond between related people devoid of such an incestuous tilt generally endorses that a relative builds and commits to a family of his own and puts not a stipulation of choice. that is, ‘it is fine if my brother marries - how and why would that affect our connection?’ - is not fine with sam and dean. if it was so, sam would've kept dating ruby, amelia, etc., etc., without dean putting him under the exigency of picking, without the uncontrollable invasion of his sexual and general privacy by dean (‘did you have sex with her? first madison then ruby now cara then lilith’, dean eavesdropping on sam's calls and going through his phone, or interrogating him concerning his whereabouts, if there's a woman he doesn't know about), and, moreover, without sam feeling an unspelt obligation of either concealing (why, right?) or rescinding these side hook-ups. oh, also it's him or benny. same with lisa, who knew the fact of her secondariness when competing with sam and that the existence of one naturally excluded that of the other. why can't they all be a big family performing roles socially allotted to them?.. because sam fills in all the roles. because dean and sam want to live in one room and they brush their teeth together and share one car and invariably solve cases together and own a dog and coparent jack and even their afterlife is a shared homoheaven bereft of other love interests. where a woman is to put herself between, in what inextant interstice? ultimately she is reduced to a blur in the background while sammy raises his kid, dean ii, and she is not addressed, not once, in the script, her only definition is of a nemo-womb sam cohabits with to conceive a replica of dean he can nurture as a solace during his lifelong premeditation of reunion with his brother, his nóstos - this is an awful lot of all women and possible partners of have been and to be. one would say that's rather too much. were sam and dean a girl and a boy conforming to gender binarism & heteronormativity the ambiguity of their relation would've been acknowledged more widely, the incestuous codependency interpreted more obscene. but since they're not and also are very uneasy with the innuendo (‘the most troubling question is why they keep assuming we're gay? - we're just brothers!’), it's very convenient to diminish it to just a strong fraternal love. which it is. but not only that.

the potentiality of erotic subtext inside of their greedy proximity seems scary and stupid and is eschewed by both - how are they to subvert and subsume their relationship into non-brother categorization when it's just their life, just the only thing they've known, being this close? still, the only affairs permitted are the ones that are treated as and are simple, emotionally untethered one-night-stands because sam and dean are not sexually available to each other. nor they're resolute into directly consummating their relationship - the need to is either lacking or suppressed and is to be interpreted variously because covert incest is not primarily about coition but miscellanea of things, more often than not of un/subconscious genesis and procession. sam and dean know their relationship is bonkers. they don't necessarily have to know or admit they're a couple. what else they know, though, is they can't have sex. they cannot consciously translate their enmeshment into overt eroticism. that's why the siren episode is titled ‘sex and violence’ - there the mutual violence unleashed onto each other (along with the symbolic penetration through knife and breaking of the door) serves as a surrogate for sex. that, along with impulsive hugs, is the only form of lingering physical contact they usually have. but the yearning, although not experienced in one concreteness, compensates and provides for itself in a safer realm of sam and dean's emotional spaces. they can't have sex but they can fall into possession of each other's feelings. that's why once the personal attachment to anyone else is developed it is construed as betrayal by either. if you need another person, if you feel something for them that you're supposed to feel only with me (intimacy, trust, love, loyalty, belonging) - that's when you abandon me because we can't coexist with others.

[linnienin]

🌛A s t e r o i d ⁕ S a l o m è🌜 ( 5 6 2 ) and the Dance of the Seven Veils

~~~~~~~~~~~ Y o u r ⁕ e n c h a n t i n g ⁕ e n e r g y ~~~~~~~~~~~

An astro walkthrough post following Salomè's steps in the Dance of the Seven Veils through the lens of the Seven Deadly Sins.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

The gifs in this post (excluded the last one) were created by me and are from the movie "Salomè" (1953) with Rita Hayworth

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

"Look at the moon! How strange the moon seems! She is like a woman rising from the tomb. She is like a dead woman. You would fancy she was looking for dead things."

"Salomè", Oscar Wilde

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

W h o ⁕ i s ⁕ S a l o m è (quick summary of her story):

⁕ Salomè, the princess of Judaea, falls in love with the prophet John The Baptist (i'll refer to him as 'the prophet' to avoid repeating his name too much) and orders to free him from the prison he was held in (for condemning the marriage of Salome's parents, King Herod and his wife Herodias as unlawful)

⁕ The prophet rejects her, but she assures him she will kiss his mouth sooner or later, no matter what.

⁕ Salome's mother in the meantime convinces her daughter to view the prophet as an evil person that deserves to die (alimenting her fresh feeling from the rejection)

⁕ When Salomè is asked by her stepfather king Herod (who lusts over her) to dance she agrees only if she can asks anything in return.

⁕ Once the dance's over, Salomè requests the decapitated head of John the Baptist on a silver plate.

⁕ To the horror of all the partecipants, she finally kisses the mouth of the prophet consumed by her lustful desires.

⁕ King Herod, sickened and shocked, orders her execution.

(this is the William Shakespeare opera version based on the biblical one)

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

M y ⁕ i n t e r p r e t a t i o n :

In a birth chart Asteroid Salomè represents:

⁕ Your enchanting power

⁕ How people target your naivety to use your talent

⁕ The extremes you're ready to face in order to get what you want.

⁕ What you want but can't have

⁕ What desires consumes you

I also want to make a quick clarification between asteroid Salomè and Sirene because both are seducing and mesmerizing energies, but imo: Sirene : conscious type of seduction, aim for what they want, in control of their actions , calculated Salomè: unconscious type of seduction, influenced by others in their choices, controlled by their desires, not in control of themselves

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

P o s t ⁕ g u i d e:

I'll go through the steps of the whole Dance and make them into little sections:

⁕ Every section is about one of the Seven Deadly Sins ⁕ Within every section there will be interpretations of different Salomè signs/degrees, depending on which Sins they fall into (in my personal opinion)

Disclaimer: every single sign could fall into every single sin since they're all part of human nature, but one would always prevail on others imo, and this is just my personal take on them.

Enjoy ✨

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

1 s t ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : P R I D E

⁕ Leo Salomè/Salomè at 5°-17°-29° : You enchant with your confidence and talent. Your creativity allows you to shine from within and make a strong impression on people.

⁕ You draw attention to yourself easily, and others envy this, so they target your individuality to trigger the worst out of you. They want to robb you of your 'Main character' type of energy, using your exposition and will to take up space, to their own interest. They feed your ego only to break your mirror into several pieces later, leaving you not recognizing yourself anymore. You'll find yourself becoming riddiculous just to gain that attention again, blending with the masses for validation, but feeling extremely guilty and shameful about it. This is how they trigger your pride. ⁕ You have a great desire to be able to show yourself without getting judged. You want to dive deep into your creative mind and feel accepted and appreciated for your dramatic and showy persona. When people don't understand your needs, you can get arrogant, narcissistic and selfish .

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

⁕ Aquarius Salomè/Salomè at 11°-23°: You enchant with your uniqueness and innovation. Your mindblowing perspectives draws people in and out of curiosity, and you release them with more confusion and even more questions, to trap them in getting back to you.

⁕ You know this is your strategy to create multiple connections and dodge your way to the top, but envious people want to stop you from climbing up that ladder. They'll use you and your network for their own interests, but turning their back to you once they get what they want. This is how they trigger your pride. ⁕ When no one truly deeply understand you, your different view and quirky personality, you start to doubt your identity, facing the negative effects of feeling like the black sheep. You lose the courage to stand up for yourself as you isolate from the world with no track of time and completely dissociating from reality. You become inexistent, cause you won't merge with the masses. A great desire to instill change and put reality in discussion burns in you, but if people keep overlooking your ideas, you just explode and can become rebellious, distant and unpredictable.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

2 n d ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : G R E E D

⁕ Capricorn Salomè/Salomè at 10°-22° : You enchant with your loyalty and perseverance. Your disciplined and committed persona inspire people, but they also get envious of all the accomplishments you've achieved with such resiliency.

⁕ You view life simply and clearly, this is what allows you to be so precise with no hesitation when making important choices. And because this is such a rare quality, people want to robb you of it and use it for themselves and their interests. However, you base your self worth on materialism and achievements and when people don't validate them, you only want to get more to prove yourself. This is how others target your weeknesses and trigger your greed. ⁕ They show you the best of everything to make you feel inferior and in consequence wanting it all. But the truth is you don't need it all to feel complete within. You have a great desire to feel the best and most powerful of all, but because you attach your emotions to the outside and not accept them inside of you out of fear of showing your vulnerabilities, you are therefore not in tune with yourself and you are controlled by the world. You want to become the best version of yourself, but if you don't truly accept your imperfections, you can get dissatisfied, demanding and cold with no way of enjoying life like you envisioned you'd have.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

3 r d ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : L U S T

⁕ Scorpio Salomè/Salomè at 8°-20° : You enchant with your mystery and intensity. Your enigmatic and independent spirit makes you an extremely interesting character everyone wants to get to know.

⁕ You attract unwanted attention, and you are the center topic of everyone's gossipy chitchat. You are people's dream, and everyone envy your subtle popularity, they all want to get a little sip of you. People view you as a prize they want to conquer to make themselves appear bigger. You have a great desire to form deep and meaningful connections, so you give a chance to others in exploring your hidden and vulnerable side, but all they do is take advantage of your thoughtfulness to feed their curiosity and ego, and once they get what they want, they only come back to you when they need a little refresh. This is how they trigger your lust. ⁕ You hide your emotional side because of past wounds, but your intense feelings still need an outlet or else they'd consume you. You need someone that cherish and care for your complexity and is willing to explore the dark without judgements otherwise you'll become insatiable, unfulfilled and uncontrollable, confusing the real profund emotional depth with a toxic emotionless bond based on superficial desires.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

4 t h ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : E N V Y

⁕ Virgo Salomè/Salomè at 6°-18° : You enchant with your skills and intelligence. Your analytical mind and organized approach give you the ability to grasp details and process them in an incredible clear and systematic way.

⁕ People envy your critical thinking and your kind, hardworking nature, so they take advantage of your modesty to use your talents for their interests. You take pride in giving yourself to others to help them out, but when this gets to an extreme and hinders you from developing your own identity, you get stuck in a limbo of constant crave for validation and endless comparisons. This is how your envy gets triggered. ⁕ You look at others' freedom and accomplishments, and you feel guilty you haven't reached that level yet, so you blame yourself for your inability and incompetence, believing you'll never get better and so remain stuck in your delusions. You have a great desire to master your talents and get genuine recognition from yourself and others, but when you don't take on this path, you become fussy, critical and judgemental.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

⁕ Gemini Salomè/Salomè at 3°-15°-27°: You enchant with your wit and sarcasm. Your exceptionally curious mind make you jump on every kind of topic with no shame, letting you explore anything and expanding your horizons making you very clever and articulated.

⁕ You excel in debates and are such a social butterfly, you know how to grasp people's attentions with your words. And well, who wouldn't be envious of such a skill? People use your talents by making you feel like you're guiding them and you have the control over the situation, but then you focus too much on the details that you forget the bigger picture, and this includes you forging your own path and understanding what you truly want from life. Those distractions that people throws at you trigger your envy. ⁕ You look up at the people that make decisions and have a clear idea of what they want to do and you feel jealous of their resolution in walking only one path. You overthink so much you'd love to know how to find peace even for just a second, but you get absorbed in the envy, and at your worst you get gossipy, superficial and inconsistent. You have a great desire of knowing yourself fully, being flexible while also find stability within your flexibility. But if you can't look within and stop comparing with others, you'll never know your truth.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

5 t h ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : G L U T T O N Y

⁕ Libra Salomè/Salomè 7°-19° : You enchant with your charisma and tactfulness. Your cooperative nature and romantic aura enhance your already stunning natural beauty, and people envy this hard core because it appears as you have been blessed with everything by life.

⁕ They take advantage of your agreeable temperament to use you for their interests. So you live your life as a secondary character, always trying to please others but never taking into account your own will. People use this indecisiveness of yours to trigger your gluttony. ⁕ You never feel satisfied because you don't even know what you want. So you only "eat" more because you crave that instant moment of pleasure constantly. As you base your worth from outside sources, you feel empty inside, hence why you keep feeling the need to put things inside you to fill that void. You have a great desire to make the world fair for everyone and form genuine connections between people, but if you can't complete this purpose, you become unbalanced, overly-indulgent and insecure.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

⁕ Taurus Salomè/Salomè at 2°-14°-26° : You enchant with your steadiness and sensuality. Your driven and kind hearted nature allows you to always put your best in everything you focus on, and you're not one to lose your focus easily.

⁕ People envy how firm and determined you are, despite looking very gracious outwardly, you never give up, and this beautiful combo of extremes make you look like a person that possess everything. Others are gonna want to break your peaceful and unshakable nature, taking advantage of your kindness, they're gonna try to use your resiliency for their interests and letting you see how much there is of the world by shifting your focus on the pleasures of life. Soon you're gonna enter the sensual world and you'd never want to go back. This is how they trigger your gluttony. ⁕ Your body craves intimacy and contact, but you've been living in your head, only focusing on possessions denying your sensual side. Now after realizing how food can fill you and make you enjoy the experience, you become addicted to it. The idea of something that doesn't take up space like everything in materialism, but can instead grow you to take up space (eating) makes you feel important and not tie your self worth to outward successes. But it's still making up for your lack of love coming from within, and if you can't feel it you can get stubborn, possessive and self-absorbed.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

6 t h ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : W R A T H

⁕ Aries Salomè/Salomè at 1°-13°-25° : You enchant with your assertivity and bravery. Your optimistic and dynamic spirit combined with your dominant demeanor allow you to be a great leader.

⁕ You fearlessness and ease in overcoming challenges make people envious of the power you hold. They use your spontaneous and competitive nature to their interests, trying to make fun of you, to slowly make you lose the confidence in yourself and step down the throne you deserve, but you can't stand the view of this injustice (both if made to you or to others).This is how they trigger your wrath. ⁕ You are not afraid to speak up, but after you lose your confidence, your words are spilled out with impulsiveness and aggressiveness, making people afraid of how quick you can lose your temper. You have a great desire to help others realize their potential, and you want to guide them on the tortuous path of life, but if people ignore you and make you feel small, then you become impatient, insensitive and reckless.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

⁕ Sagittarius Salomè/Salomè at 9°-21° : You enchant with your wisdom and open-mindedness. Your free spirit allows you to experience life humbly giving you the ability to transform your mistakes in insightful life lessons.

⁕ You change people's perspectives by elaborating a wide range of informations and putting them in a clear view thanks to your capability of grasping patterns, and others envy this. They want to robb your wisdom, to feel like wise Gods themselves, so they use your knowledge to shut your voice down, triggering your wrath. ⁕ Once you raise your voice and let everyone see this impulsive side of yourself, you can witness people losing interest and trust in you, making you insecure and small, full of existential crisis. You have a great desire to change the world for the best, and to let people see different point of view with your philosophy, but when you are not understood you can turn into a close-minded, highly opinionated and skeptical person.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

7 t h ⁕ v e i l ⁕ r e v e a l : S L O T H

⁕ Pisces Salomè/Salomè at 12°-24° : You enchant with your vulnerability and spirituality. Your imagination allows you to put yourself in other people's shoes and understand their point of view in an empathetic way.

⁕ Your easygoing and adaptable nature make others envious of you. They take advantage of your compassion by treating you as their personal punching bag, their shoulder to cry on, their victim to sacrifce. They suck all your energy into their personal interests, leaving you completely numb and not giving you space to display your creativity. This is how they trigger your sloth. ⁕ You have a great desire to feel emotions and share them with people that truly understand you, but if people neglect this aspect of yourself, you become lazy, unmotivated and hopeless. The world holds no meaning to you and you'd rather spend time feeling delusional than open up in fear of not being accepted.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

⁕ Cancer Salomè/Salomè at 4°-16°-28° : You enchant with your softness and compassion. Your nurturing and maternal energy makes others feel at home and safe.

⁕ Your incredible intuition knows everyone's needs and your affectionate nature make you want to help everyone just to see a smile on their faces. Unfortunately others can misuse this gift of yours to their interest since they're envious of how perfectly in tune you are with your emotions. When you can sense that all you see are fake smiles, you start to question your ability to heal others and your sensitive side is hightened. This is the perfect moment for those people to strike some offensive words that will make you insecure and want to just disappear from the world. This is how they trigger your sloth. ⁕ You isolate and close yourself in your shell to protect you from further damage. You feel you are unworthy and that you don't bring any value to the world, so you dwell in your sense of guilt and fear, unable to do anything. You have a great desire to make the world a better place, to share your love and emotions with others, to protect those in needs, but if you can't express this side of youself you become pessimistic, moody and manipulative.

⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕

And you've reached the end! Congrats! And thanks for staying with me ✨

I hope you enjoyed this post and find it helpful in understanding your own Salomè placement 😊

Hope the dance steps were easy to follow too 💃

It took me some time to make cause i wanted to truly dive deep in the meaning of it and not only talk about the magnetizing part, but remember, this is only my interpretation, i'd love to peacefully discuss with you if you disagree with me 👍

I'm kinda tempted to make a post on Salomè through the houses, let me know if you'd love to know more on this asteroid

as always,

I wish you a wonderful day ahead (or night) 😘 and i'll see you in the next post! Yours Linnie 🌛

[icestarphoenix]

For @goferwashere’s amazing Punch Out!! Monster Hunter AU

i love love love your au! even though it’s been a while since you posted for it, siren!Don Flamenco gave me so many good brain tinglies that i had to try drawing my own interpretation of him

(please excuse the traced Don i havent drawn the punchy boys yet but i really wanted to draw this idea ._.)

More info about this siren!Don below cut

His tail fin is based on the trajes de flamenca, or the flamenco dress. The day dress hugs the legs and ruffles out, so it already resembles a mermaid tail. Though, I made the fin longer to better resemble the version worn by dancers. Don’s pelvic fins resemble rose petals.

Some things about this version of Don is that he has a slight ability to change his coloration, but it’s more of a response to his emotions rather than for camouflage. These two versions are his main colors, though he changes to have more pinks if he’s feeling lovey-dovey and sappy.

His colors brighten when he’s confident, joyful, or excited. In contrast, feeling down, defeated, or bored dulls his colors.

His retracted spines, or perhaps thorns, will be more flexible to lie flush against his skin whenever possible. When Don extends his spines, they become rigid and fan out.

Contender (Red and Yellow)

This is his normal, passive coloration. Don here is showing off his bright colors by flaring his fins to their fullest. He tends to avoid showing features like sharp teeth, claws, and spines whilst in his true form as it’s much harder to manipulate people when they’re guarded and wary of him.

Even while boxing he will keep his passive colors, as his confidence in the ring and the need to show off outweigh any sort of sense for danger.

Title Defense (Red and Black)

It rarely happens, but when Flamenco turns red and black it’s a sign that you should stay away. These are basically his warning colors. This coloration often appears when Don feels that his life is in real danger and siren manipulation will not defuse the situation. When these colors show, Don is more aggressive, hostile, and ready to fight, even to the death. He will have no qualms with showing his teeth, claws, and spines. Although, these colors can also show up when infuriated or when he’s about to commit unspeakable acts of violence.

For Title Defense, Don Flamenco has trained so hard that his tail formed rips and holes from the stress and anger of it all. Normally, he’d be horrified to see imperfections on his fins, but his desire for revenge overruled his need to keep appearances.

His hair is supposed to stay brown, but the drama queen dyed it black for his rematch with Little Mac.

[auncyen]

An Honest Review of Mirabelle, Revolving

-by one acquaintance of the Housemaiden

After being trapped for nearly a year in a country that was slowly freezing in time, a play seemed relaxing, especially one put on in the capital of Poteria, and my traveling companion and I pored over the Sirene's schedule. Mirabelle, Revolving leapt out at us--because its rampant popularity has given it a sprawling dominance over the schedule. Kudos to its cast, who have not let themselves be run ragged; the performance we attended was the last of the week and still high-spirited. The actress portraying Mirabelle gives her all to do the woman justice, as Mirabelle gave her all to save her country. None of my criticism should be interpreted as due to a failing on her part.

But I try not to be overly critical, so before that, I would like to also praise the stage crew and the superb technical effects. The sequence in which Mirabelle encounters people she knew, now frozen in time, is tragically beautiful. The Sirene's revolving stage is used to show her being overcome by memories coming back to her one after the other, and the subtle shading of the lights skillfully shows her falling into despair. My traveling companion was moved to tears. (I do not cry during shows. My Craft type is Paper, but I've been told my heart is Rock.)

I had some acquaintance with Mirabelle, being trapped in Dormont myself as Vaugarde was near freezing; nothing worth bragging over, so I'll spare you the details. I merely know enough to say that the supposed memories weren't entirely accurate, but I do not hold that against the play. To be quite honest, I was shocked that the sentiment was so accurate. Of course, Vallario is well known for crafting emotional scenes. But he had gotten so much wrong about Mirabelle and the other saviors up to that point that a true emotion came as a shock.

To anyone who knew the saviors even briefly, the play is a trainwreck from the first scene. From this point, I will use titles to denote the fictional characters separately from the real people. The play's start is narratively expedient: we open in Jouvente, in the Defenders' headquarters, with the Housemaiden telling the Defenders what happened at her House of Change and the daunting journey she must undertake to defeat the King, ending with a plea for help. Near all look uneasy and turn her away. She leaves in tears, but then one Defender catches up to her and reassures her that she won't be alone with him by her side. Again, narratively expedient: we see the high stakes and are introduced to the two main leads of the play, our brave but anxious heroine and a sensitive, supportive hero. Were the play entirely fictional, and one in the mood for a romance, it would be a promising beginning.

My traveling companion and I had not been expecting a romance, as Mirabelle and Isabeau are dear friends without the slightest interest in courting each other. We nearly walked out after the Defender had several exchanges with his soon-to-be-ex-colleagues that make it clear his beginning motivation is an intense crush on an emotionally vulnerable woman. It is incredibly disrespectful to the real Isabeau, who left the Defenders to follow Mirabelle because helping others was precisely the reason he had joined in the first place, and to Mirabelle, who did not save her country for others to make wild speculation about her love life. What made my traveling companion and I stomach the insipid romance for the next two hours? Morbid curiosity. And we'd already paid.

When the Traveler is first introduced, Vallario seems to partially redeem himself. Odile is a Ka Buan woman, and she is portrayed without the unfortunate stereotypes about Ka Bue that Poterian plays are prone to. (If you are wondering why Poterian-style plays have never caught on there, the first would be that Ka Bue already has its own rich theater tradition; while starkly different from the Poterian style, a Poterian playwright may find them useful to study for that alone. The second reason Poterian-style plays haven't caught on is because the famed Di Cola, much beloved here, is equally reviled there.) The Traveler is not emotionally forthcoming compared to the Vaugardian protagonists, but this is treated as a simple cultural difference tolerated on both sides and not exaggerated into some deceptive tendency. All is well and good until the introduction of the Child.

The Child themself is passable. I prefer the real Boniface, but the real Boniface isn't a young adult who has to pretend to be a preteen. Some more meat to their emotional performances might have been nice, but apparently the script intended them as a prop to the Traveler's emotional arc as she accepts that she will never be a mother.

If Vallario had even suggested to the real Odile that she wanted motherhood, she would likely have laughed in his face and then conspired to burn this script.

It was a struggle to tolerate this play, let alone enjoy it. The best cast and stage crew cannot save a script that is supposedly based on real people's real struggles and yet has such gaping holes in their characters, filled in with tired cliches. However, there was one hole left unfilled more baffling than any other.

This play is missing one of the Saviors entirely. Perhaps that is a blessing: Siffrin has a love of Poterian plays, and also has so much self-consciousness that knowing a caricature of them was on the stage of one might have been a fatal embarrassment. But I question how Vallario felt ready to write Mirabelle's story without even knowing the number of companions who were traveling with her. Once the Child appeared and my own companion and I realized there was not some odd misprint in the program, there was no second Traveler, the absence was keenly felt. Siffrin was a quiet sort, but they still liked to lighten the mood with a pun. They were heroic, with it being well known they lost half their sight protecting one of their companions. They were dear to the others, and absolutely essential to the King's defeat.

This play can only be recommended if you are able to remind yourself that its resemblance to the real Mirabelle's journey is fleeting and would only pass inspection on a new moon night. Vallario is excellent at crafting fiction, but whether he simply rushed to be the first to stage or had dubious sources, he did not get this right. I believe Odile was considering writing an account of the journey to publish; she might be forced to, now, if other people assume a woman can only care about a child because she wants to be a mother.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

hiii >< I see you're still taking request so maybe can you write about how könig would confort his insecure s/o? not just about her weight but also her ability to do things? like "oh no I'm not good and pretty enough"

I'm going through a hard time right now so it'd help a lot T.T

(also can I slide into your dm? I want to make friend and talk about könig but I'm scared you might be uncomfortable)

Okay so thank you so so much for this ask? It genuinely warms my heart. I had an idea of writing a prompt for König comforting an insecure reader, but I didn’t really know how to start. This really helped! I do not know if I perfectly got what you wanted, but I hope it’s okay? Sometimes I am not very good at interpreting others, I admit. Also, my dms are always open (and I especially like making new friends in this community). I hope to hear from you soon, and I hope you like this story!

So, just under 2.1k words, all soft and sweet. Total fluff. TW for insecurities and self hatred, but it gets talked over. Story below the cut.

Faker

König sat on your bed behind you, watching you with patient eyes. You’d just come home from an outing, and though you had put on an act for others, he could see how it had worn on you. He knew that you couldn’t do it forever, but he didn’t blame you in the slightest. Nobody could do what you tried to do.

 You looked in the mirror, staring with blank eyes at your persecutor.

These hands, they made so many mistakes… These lips have uttered so many lies… These eyes have seen truth and beauty and joy, but now they see nothing but a hollow shell. Who is this empty vessel that stands before you? Did you ever really know who they were?

König stands up and steps forward, gently resting his hands on your shoulders, on the vessel’s shoulders.

“What do you see?” König asked softly, taking one hand to brush away tears you had not noticed.

“I see…” you paused, “Myself.”

König rested his head over you, watching you with his ice blue eyes. They looked at you, tried to hold your gaze, but the cold was too much for you to bear.

“Do you?” he whispered.

You blinked, taking a moment to sniff and recompose your dignity. Tears welled up further, but you held to them tightly, refusing to let them drop. But unfortunately, you are no God, you can defy no calling such as this. Emotions control your very being, and so you cry.

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

König let you cry. It would be cruel to stop you at this point. You tried to fight back, doing your best to build your sandcastle against the ocean, but with every hiccup you suppressed and every sniff you held back, the waves would wash over you again. And eventually, you gave up. You followed the siren’s song and drowned in your sorrows.

“I hate myself,” you finally were able to say.

König pressed a kiss to your temple and dropped his chin to your shoulder, “Why?”

“I… I don’t have enough time to go into all the reasons,” your voice cracked and warbled like a strangled seabird.

“I have time,” König replied.

“I don’t,” you said, your tone cold as the ice that he held in his eyes.

König nodded and wrapped his hands over your shoulders.

“You do not have to explain if you do not want to,” he said, his words like down on your ears, “sometimes, words are not enough.”

“It feels like they’re never enough,” you closed your eyes, unable to endure his watchful eyes any longer.

“When are they ever?” König hummed, “english is not a good language to express yourself, anyways.”

“Is it easier in German?” you asked hopefully.

You could feel König shaking his head, “Nein.”

You sniffled and opened your eyes again. You hated what you saw. You hated the kindness in his cold blue eyes. You hated the hollowness in your warm body more. Ice and fire, freezing and burning. What would be the best way to die? In your own selfish inferno, or would you let the ice of your lover’s touch shock you to reality? Or would that make you numb, too? Was it better to be numb because you had killed your cells through burning yourself alive, or through ice turning your boiling blood into nothing but a muddy sludge through your veins?

“I don’t want to be like this,” you could see yourself frown more than feel it.

“You do not have to be,” König reminded you.

“I don’t know how to change,” you replied dryly.

“Do you have to change to learn to love who you are?” König asked, taking a moment to brush his cheek over yours, water lapping over a sandy beach, “or is there something here worthy of love?”

“I don’t think so,” you muttered and turned to hide your face into his putrid mask, right where you belonged.

“Do you not think you are worthy of love as you are?” he asked.

“Why would I be?” you scrunched your eyes tight, tight enough to hear the water washing through you.

König carefully pried your face away from his mask, kindly not commenting on the mucus you’d left behind. Instead, he gently turned your chin to look back into the mirror. You groaned as he did so and tried to turn back, but such gentle hands became firm as ice.

“Maybe you should try to look at what is worth loving?” he whispered, “just try.”

“What is there to love?” you cried.

“So much,” he told you, “so much.”

You opened your eyes to see yourself. What you saw was worse than before. Red-rimmed eyes, runny nose, flushing skin. You really were a mess, weren’t you? You looked like you’d been drowned and then revived, cursed to walk the earth once more.

König cut off your spiraling thoughts with a piercing, “When I look in this mirror, I see someone who has been hurt for too long.”

“Nobody hurt me,” you protest meekly.

“You did,” his words gored into you like ice picks, “maybe, someone a long time ago said something to you. Maybe you made a mistake and it never left you. I do not know. I do know that whatever led you to think that you are nothing worth loving is wrong. It is not what you are. You are more than the past.”

“How would you know that?” you scoffed meanly.

König shrugged.

“Maybe because I know what it feels like to look in a mirror and see something I do not like.”

You turned and looked at him briefly before he redirected your gaze to the mirror, the ice in his eyes thawing with fear and insecurities you saw within yourself.

“I ask myself, what is there to love? How could anyone care about me? Surely, nobody loves me,” he said, “but I am wrong. There are people who care, they just do not say it out loud. Maybe it is because they are scared.”

“Scared of what?” you asked.

“Scared of being… Ah, what is the word… Scared of being vulnerable, I think,” König shrugged half heartedly, “but I think that vulnerability is how we grow. You cannot be strong by hurting yourself. Strength does not come from nothingness.”

“But you’re so strong,” you sniffled.

“I am strong because I saw my weakness, and I saw something lovable inside. So I worked to make what was lovable more important than what was not,” König replied, “I was afraid, small, and vulnerable. But by being vulnerable, I learned I could grow.”

“So then what does that mean for me?” you asked.

“I think it means that it is okay to hurt, but you can’t let that hurt define how you see yourself,” König hummed.

“What do you mean?” you asked timidly.

“I think that it is easy to think only of weakness. However, there is more to that weakness. I think sometimes, we need to be weak to be strong. You might be weak now,” König lay his head against yours, “and I think you can become strong.”

“As strong as you?” you tried to say playfully, but it came out grating like a gull’s cry.

“You do not need to be as strong as me,” you could see his face soften behind his mask, “you need to be strong enough for yourself. You cannot let anyone else define strength for you.”

“Do I need to be strong to be loved?” you thought aloud.

“Nein,” König’s voice hardened, then softened when he continued, “love is strength itself. To love and to be loved is to be strong. To love yourself is the strongest thing you can do.”

You pursed your lips into a line. Finally, you asked, “So do you love yourself?”

König’s eyes crinkled at the corners, “Sometimes. Sometimes it is hard. Do you not think so?”

You frown, “I don’t know. I haven’t loved myself too much lately.”

“I think you must find something to love in yourself,” König replied, “but that might take searching. You cannot let someone else tell you what is worth loving. I know it is hard, but once you find something, hold onto it. And keep holding on.”

“How can you be so sure that there’s something I can love?” you asked.

“There is always something. Even the blackest hearts can love the soot that coats them,” König mused.

You looked at yourself. You frowned, and then locked your eyes on his.

“What if I can’t find something to love?” you asked nervously.

“Then you must do the hardest thing of all,” König furrowed his brows, “you must fake it. You must tell yourself you love something, even if you do not believe it.”

You scoffed, “But why? That’s so stupid.”

“It is in the beginning,” König admitted, “but it is not stupid always. It gets better, but you have to do it every day. That is the hardest part, you know? Doing it every day. But if you keep doing it, it gets better.”

You look at yourself. Your eyes are not so red, your breathing has steadied. You look a bit better, but you don’t quite know if the word ‘better’ is the word you’d choose.

“So, if I have to lie to myself, what should I lie about?” you ask.

“Well, if it helps, whenever I see myself in a mirror, I smile at myself,” König says, “but I do not always feel it inside. But I keep doing it. I want to get to a point where I can smile in a mirror, and I can feel myself smiling back.”

“How did you decide that?” you asked.

“Everyone likes a good smile, ja?” König chuckled, “so why not have a nice smile? I think your smile is very pretty, ja, but do you?”

You cast your eyes down, looking into the deep abyss of your feet, then replied, “I don’t know.”

“Then maybe that is a place to start. Tell yourself that you have a pretty smile.”

“It sounds so stupid though,” you snort.

“It does sound stupid! But that is why you must do it. And anyways, is it not nice to smile? A smile is a powerful thing,” König smiled under his mask, “it is a tool. You need to care for your tools. So love your smile. It is, if nothing else, a good place to start.”

“And if I trick myself into loving my smile?” you laugh.

“Then find something else to love,” König determined, “there is always more to love, especially with you.”

“You really think there’s always more to love in me?” you shook your head in disbelief.

“I do not think,” König said sternly, “I know. There is a very important difference between those words. You should remember that.”

“Well, I believe you’re being stupid,” you snort.

“Believe what you want, but I will still have my beliefs. And my belief is that you have so much to love,” König wrapped his arms around you in a reassuring hug, “I see so much to love, so much I want to show you about yourself. You are so wonderful. Yet you cannot see that? I do not understand, but I think you think that there is something worth loving in me. And if you can see something worth loving in others, why should there not be something worth loving in you?”

“I don’t know,”  you admitted.

“I think it is silly to say everyone deserves love and then remove yourself from your own statement,” König ducked his head down, “and if nothing else, let me find something in you to love. If nobody else will say it, then let me say that you have so much in you that is worthy of love. All of you is worthy of love. You may not think so, but I love you regardless of whatever you think you are.”

“Even when I do things you don’t like?” you cup his head in one hand.

“Especially when you do things I do not like,” König affirmed, “because to love all of you I must love your flaws. To love someone conditionally like that is to not love at all. So I love all parts of you, regardless of what you may think of those.”

“You’re being too nice,” you dismiss him gently.

“I think ‘too nice’ is not real,” König retorted, “I think that is a stupid thing people say to avoid feeling. I am not afraid of my feelings, and so I am proud to say I love you for you. I just hope that one day, you can love yourself like I love you.”

“You really think I can do that?” you ask.

“I do not think, I believe.

[panicroomsammy]

Throughout the show Sam and Dean are repeatedly confronted with people telling them their relationship is unusual, but this never seems to sink in for them. The canon compliant interpretation is repression and that they have never acted on their more than brotherly feelings for each other, but I have another theory: they started acting on these feelings way too young and can never acknowledge that they act on them because of this. I’m putting it under a cut for containing severely underage sex but I’ve been thinking about this for days and just have to get it out of my system.

You see, when some kinds of relationships start so young that the people in them don’t know what to call it, it can either never be given a name or it can end. I don’t know if there is any relationship in the world that can survive saying out loud “we started having sex when both of our ages were in the single digits and that was really fucked up but do you want to keep doing it.” But Sam and Dean’s relationship cannot end - they are soulmates after all - so they can never say it out loud. It started before there was a word for it so now there never will be a word for it.

It starts when Sam is two or three and Dean is six or seven. They sleep in the same bed - they have practically ever since either of them can remember. Legs wrapped around each other maybe one of them grinds against the other just the wrong way and it feels good and they don’t stop. Maybe it starts with Sam maybe it starts with Dean, it doesn’t matter - it happens. Maybe Dean already has some idea of what’s going on, maybe he’s done this before on his own, but he doesn’t fully grasp that it’s wrong for him to be doing it with another person. Maybe he has the vague feeling that it would be Bad if John found out about this but he can’t put his finger on why - just an internalization of societal norms that he doesn’t understand and never will. It stays this way all through childhood. Humping turns to touching themselves next to each other turns to touching one another directly. When Dean is in middle school there’s some kind of sex ed class and he finds it intriguing - he’s always been interested in sex - but never puts together that what he’s doing with his little brother is sexual. They’re both boys after all and sex is something you do with a woman. When Sam reaches middle school teenage Dean figures it’s his job to teach his little brother about sex. He never stops to consider that it’s something they’ve already been doing. Dean loses his virginity to some girl in high school. As far as he’s concerned it’s the first time he’s had sex with another person - sex requires a pussy, after all. Some time in their teen years they start going farther. It would seem impossible for the denial to continue at this point but it does. They’re just doing this because they’re brothers, because they need to be closer to each other.

Then maybe Sam realizes. Or maybe he doesn’t. If he does, maybe that’s part of why he leaves. It would be impossible for their relationship to continue once one of them accepted that the start of it at least had been messed up. But then Dean shows up and drags Sam away from his normal life. Was Sam ever really capable of normal, of enjoying normal things in normal ways after everything? Maybe Sam never did realize anything. Maybe he was living in his normal life like a dream, never understanding why it never quite felt right. Then he’s back with Dean. Their relationship is so, so much more than just sex-that-isn’t-sex - that’s just what I’m talking about here - so this doesn’t pick back up immediately. There are so many more things to sort out. But then one night they’re just both horny at the same time and they do find themselves exactly where they left off. It still isn’t sex. Sex is something you do with women. Sex isn’t something you do as a kid. They did this as kids, so it isn’t sex.

When the siren says it wants to be their brother because it wants to fall in love, neither of them bats an eye. When Ash tells them they’re soulmates they’re relieved to spend eternity together but not much else. When countless people assume them to be a couple they’re genuinely confused - they’ve just always been this way so they can’t be a couple because couples are people who haven’t always been that way.

[wenigstenshabeichesversucht]

Greek Tragedy

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader, Locklyle

Summary: Orpheus AU aka Orpheuswood

Warnings: angst, death of a main character, english is not my native language

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Big thanks to @uku-lelevillain and @bobbys-not-that-small for the picture!

The day you died, started like every other day. You woke up to the sun peeking through your blinds and the smell of burned toast was lingering in the air. It was like every other day, until it wasn’t. Looking back, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint when everything went down the drain. But that was definitely before a relic man slashed your abdomen with a knife and before Lockwood pulled you through a gate to the other side.

Now you were stumbling behind Lockwood clutching your wound while warm blood was seeking through your fingers. This wasn’t how you would have imagined your first trip to the other side. But to be honest, nothing Lucy and Lockwood told you could have prepared you for this.

Stepping through the gate had felt like someone had emptied an ice bucket over your head. The cold pushed every breath out of your lungs, and it didn’t matter how close you pulled your spirit-cape around you, you would never feel warm again. It was so dark, that you had to concentrate to even see your own breath forming clouds in the air. All surfaces were covered by sheets of ice and even the blood dripping from your hands froze before it could hit the ground. However, this wasn’t the weirdest part about this twisted twin of the London you knew. Even the walls of buildings, all with signs of decay, which seemed to bend to you like a flower to the sun, weren’t the strangest thing this place had to offer. What really creeped you out was the silence. You grew up in London, a city which never really slept. The silence of the night was often interpreted by the sound of cars and the sirens of ambulances. But here, in this twisted mirror of the city you loved, reigned deadly silence. Only the crunch of the ice under your hurried steps and your ragged breath broke the silence that felt like a blanket over Dark London.

You didn’t know how long you were already staggering behind Lockwood, trying to keep up with his long-hurried steps. Time worked different here. This was no place for the living, and the time to make it out alive, was rapidly running through your fingers. Or to be clear, the time for Lockwood to make it out alive was slowly running out. You wouldn’t leave this place alive. You weren’t sure, when exactly you realized it. Was it the moment, the cold stopped bothering you and your breath became as cold as the lifeless air around you? Or was it the moment you finally caught up with Lockwood, feeling more energized than ever, while he was struggling with every step? This was no place for the living, and that you were adapting could only mean one thing. On the way through this twisted city, you had died. You would never return to the warm embrace of Portland Row, your home. But Lockwood was still alive, he could go back to your friends, to your home, live his life, do all the things, you now would never have the chance to do. You had lost everything; you wouldn’t allow the same happen to him. Late you would have all the time to mourn everything lost, now you had to urge him to the gate, without him turning around and seeing, that you weren’t longer with him.

In front of you, Lockwood stumbled out of exhaustion over his own feats and your hand shot out, to stop his fall. But before a catastrophe could happen, and you could ghost touch him, he caught himself. If you were still breathing, you would have let out a breath of relief. But you had stopped breathing some time ago, your skin was cold like ice and there was something missing, where previously your heart had given a rhythm.

“Just look ahead, and we will make it, I’m right behind you”, you weren’t sure, if he could still hear you. He wasn’t a Listener, and you were on your way to become a memory. But he did what he was told.

Keeping his eyes ahead, he dragged himself in the direction of the gate. You had no troubles to keep up.  If you had wanted to, you could have overtaken him. However, you were too afraid about what would happen if he would see you. So, you would guide him from your place, a few steps behind him, to safety.

On your way to the gate, Lockwood wanted to turn a few times, to check that you were still behind him. But every time, before he could fully turn and see you, you succeeded in coaxing him to just look ahead. However, everything had to end, your life and also your tour through the other side. You were only a few meters away from the gate, when Lockwood did exactly the thing, you had dreaded the whole journey. He took a look at you. His gaze flickered over you, taking in the frozen blood on your hands and your clothes, who were stained red, and you could see the exact moment he realized, what had happened. His face fell, and unconsciously he took a step towards you. You weren’t sure, who of you both looked worse, he, who looked like he walked through hell, or you, who was dead but finally at home. You were the first to find your voice.

“You have to go”, you whispered, both knowing, that he didn't have much time left. But desperate he shook his head.

“I can’t leave you here, I love you!”

If you were still breathing, that confession would have knocked out the air out of your lungs. But you were dead, and no CPR could ever bring you back. You loved him too, since the first time you met him, you loved him. And when you first met you knew that you would love him your entire life, who would have guessed, that your life would be so short? However, if you told him the truth, he wouldn’t leave you. He would stay by you; he would die by your side. Just the thought crushed your heart. Your eyes were burning, but no tears escaped.

“I’m sorry Anthony”, your voice wasn’t more than a whisper, but in this quiet place it felt like you were speaking in a microphone. “You are a great friend, but I don’t love you”, you lied smoothly and with every word leaving your lips your heart broke a bit until a pile of shards was everything that was left. However, the pain which flickered over his face, was the worst part. You never wanted to be the cause of his pain.

“You have to leave”, you reminded him a second time, and you were surprised how calm your voice sounded, while inside you everything was falling apart. You were falling apart.

“I’m sorry, if I had realized that you were hurt sooner, we could have turned back. I could have saved you.”

You both knew that you couldn’t have turned back. Going back through the gate you entered this twisted world, had never been an option. At this gate only waited the death for both of you.

“It’s not your fault. But please let me do, what you couldn’t do. Let me safe you.” Your gazes looked, and that eye contact said more than a thousand words ever could.

“Fine”, he breathed out. “I will always miss you, Portland Row, will never be the same without you.”

And you would always miss him. But you were sure, that in a few years, he would have moved on, while you would remain frozen in time. As he reached the gate, he looked a last time back at you, and you forced a pained smile on your lips.

“I lied, I love you too”, you whispered, as he stepped to the gate, forever vanishing from your sight.

8 Years later

A young woman was standing in the basement of Portland Row. She was dressed in a beautiful long white dress, the veil had she taken off when they got home.

Now she was nervously turning the box made of silver-glass in her hands. Inside laid a ring, which once had adorned the finger of her best friend. But Lucy’s friend was dead, while Lucy was alive. Alive to marry the guy, she loved. Holding her breath, Lucy slowly opened the box. The ring inside was ice-cold, she could feel the joy and love the wearer had felt, when she was still alive. Lucy didn’t have to wait long. Not shortly after releasing the ring out of his jail, the ghostly figure of her best friend appeared. She emitted soft golden light, while she floated over the floor. Lucy knew that her friend wasn’t a Type 3 ghost, she couldn't hold a conversation. But she had to do it anyway.  

“I lied, I love you too”, whispered the ghost over and over again, forever frozen in time.   Lucy never had the heart to tell Lockwood what she was saying, and after some time Lockwood had taken the ring out of the box less and less often until he didn't do it at all anymore.

“Thank you for letting him go”, Lucy told the ghost of her best friend, even if she couldn’t understand, what Lucy was saying. “He is happy again, all thanks to you.”

If Lockwood had had his way eight years ago, Lucy would have lost both of her best friends.

“I will never forget you; we will never forget you!”

It was as if Lucy had spoken a magic word. Without having to put the ring back in the box, her best friend's ghost disappeared forever, finally at peace.

[libbee]

Since u stopped posting Venus 8th house posts, can u tell us where u find more about these placements or other ??

Fav. sources to read for Venus in 8th house:

https://barbarapijan.com/bpa/Graha/Zukra/Zukra_08sthana.htm

https://carmenturnerschott.com/eighth-house-transforming-butterflies-rebirthrenewal-transformation/

https://medium.com/wellness-the-cosmic-way/the-eighth-house-in-astrology-enter-at-your-own-risk-1e8f69920a57

https://psychologicallyastrology.com/2019/07/19/venus-and-mars-placed-in-the-8th-house/comment-page-1/

https://www.lookupthestars.com/post/venus-in-the-8th-you-have-no-idea-how-i-feel

https://theastrologyplacemembership.com/2014/11/venus-in-8th-house/

https://i.thehoroscope.co/venus-in-8th-house-key-facts-about-its-influence-on-personality

https://www.appliedvedicastrology.com/2019/03/16/secrets-of-the-8th-house-and-the-need-for-mystical-experience/

The interpretation of Venus in 8th house and my other older posts have changed much now. After all, I am not the same woman I was back then. There is a lot to connect to narcissism, illusive nature of life and romantic relationships being narcissistic fantasies. Transformations are liberating but also pessimistic because the veil is ruptured momentarily and you get to see the immense pain, injustice, unfairness in all life on earth. You might be misanthrope or extinctionist. The emotional pain is much more effective and overwhelming than emotional pleasure. Intense emotions may neutralize and you seek peace rather than passion. Venus in 8th house is often stereotyped into deep passionate intense romance but it can also be deep existential psycho-spiritual contemplation (because romance is narcissistic mutual fantasy). As mentioned in the above sources, there is a continuous struggle between materialistic and spiritual sides of life. This inner war leads to egoistic discoveries. There might be an attempt to control the emotions. Transformation is much more dark than we initially imagined, you may not become femme fatale or siren, you may instead become a life hating philosopher. I think that a lot of the interpretations for one placement can apply to many other placements, they only differ in their expression, for eg if native is self destructive or harms, injures, abuses others. If native self isolates or is imprisoned and forced to isolate. Whether transformation leads to second chance at life or it mercilessly ends life. Whether transformation leads to a renewed love for life or hatred of it. Whether you remain hopeless or keep hope. Whether you stick to illusions or withdraw. Thanks for getting in touch and reading my thoughts on this page.

[boredzillenial]

Kat und Maus

A spy has gone slightly rogue on her mission, low and behold her team bites off more than she can chew.

Themes: f!main character, 3rd person perspective, spy fic, flirting, SFW (wait wtf this never happens)

A.N: trying something a bit different with this one. Not feeling super confident in my writing atm so lemme know what y’all think ~

“I’m in the compound” She whispers into the mic hidden in her bracelet.

“Remember, The nephew is the target, agent. It’s too dangerous to go after V directly.” Her boss’s voice clips in her ear.

“But -“

“Too. Dangerous.” The tone in his voice left no room for interpretation.

She rolls her eyes, continuing her quick strides up the mansion stairs. “Waste of my time and yours.” Her words come out in a puff of chilly night air. “Good evening - The party is this way yes?” Her well rehearsed German accent trills up to the sentry waiting by the front door. “I still don’t understand why he insists on his guests parking their own damn cars.” She makes a point to huff and roll her eyes as she tosses her jacket in his face.

In a quick succession of movements she slams her heel on his foot, muffles his scream with the thick fabric, and twists him around till her arm snakes around his neck. “Sleep tight…” She coos as his body goes limp.

She drags him into the nearby bushes and rewraps her coat around her bare shoulders. “Told you the jacket trick works” She whispers a little smugly into the receiver on her wrist.

“That should be the last armed guards outside. V doesn’t like guns flashing around his guests - unless he’s doing the flashing.” She trys not to roll her eyes again, oh the egos of men . “Nephew should be on the balcony. Go straight there, secure him and over the edge. The extraction team’s waiting in the water at the base of the cliffs.”

“What is it with the ridiculously wealthy and putting their homes on cliffs.” She whispers, admiring the ornate paintings and museum worthy pieces along the walls and small tables.

“Agent, stay on task.”

“So impersonal. I know you know my name might as well say it.” Her tone clips short to match his.

“Also, what’s with the pseudonym, his name is -“

“Anselm tell that story again!” A mans voice booms from the open doorway just a few feet ahead. A chorus of affirmative chatter rises along with it.

“Oh please, you are embarrassing me. It’s not that entertaining.” Anselm’s raised, singsong German accent rings out like a siren song.

“Agent - stay on-“ Those are the last words she hears before she slips the the earpiece out and down into her brazier.

She rounds the corner slowly, getting the layout of the room and those within. The booming voiced man is standing, drunken smile across his reddened face along with four more strained faces with ingenue smiles across them.

And there, seated at an imperial looking dark wooden desk is her target, Anselm. Seeing him in person struck something different within her. She’d studied the far lensed slightly blur photographs along with his laundry list of a rap sheet- he’s a crime boss, an international thief, a kidnapper, a murder. But the man before her seems, well not all that scary.

Cheers and claps fill the room until Anselm relents “Fine fine - I was down in South America, meeting with some less than friendly constituents when - Why hello there.” He stops as he eyes her leaning in the doorframe “And who might you be my dear.” He stands, never taking his eyes off her.

“Anselm darling I am offended -“ Her accent mirrors his “Have you forgotten our time in Munich already? I know it was years ago and we were both so intoxicated but -“

“Everyone, please leave.” His tone is light despite the unknown expression on his face. Creaking and squeaking fills the space as he makes his way to her.

“But sir -“ The large man begins and quickly halts when Anselm looks his way.

The slight squint of his eyes is all it took, sending everyone else in the room scattering. “Now - yours is a face I would not forget.” He sat slowly on the leather couch, adjusting and patting the empty space beside him. “What is your name madam.”

She rolls her alias with ease “- Do you remember now?” She walks slowly, lengthening her steps to sway her hips. His eyes land perfectly on the motion. “Or perhaps you’d remember, other things about me.” She lowers her voice as she sits beside him.

“I don’t believe -“ The beginning of his question is cut short with the sharp ringing from an old style telephone on his desk “Apologies my dear, duty calls” Once again his voice is light but the slightest moment of concern crossed his features before he stiffly stands.

“No need, I need to powder my nose. Be right back.” She coos over her shoulder. Though she keeps her steps slow with purpose her nerves are alight. She really thought he would be so much more imposing or terrifying given his reputation. But he’s just a man, and the look in his eyes makes something she didn’t care to admit stir low in her belly.

She clicks a little quicker down the back hall and onto the patio, where only silence awaits her. While she glances cautiously around for her original target she digs into her dress.

Already she can hear the soft buzzing of a scream as she retrieves the ear piece from her cleavage and puts it back into place. “-AVE YOU GONE MAD! THERE’S A TEAM HEADED YOUR WAY IN LESS THAN 5 YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS OUT OF THERE!” He screams.

“I made contact with V, I can take him. The nephew is gone.” She hisses.

“ENOUGH! GET TO THE EXTRACTION POINT - THE SECONDARY TEAM WILL RETRIEVE HIM.”

She sighs, shakes her head and carefully jumps over the railing to shimmy down the lattice. “So not worth it, shit.”

She makes her way down the dark expanse of grass and rocks to the extraction team who also look intensely displeased by her change in plan. “Target acquired, heading to base. Ready by 0600 hours for interrogation.”

“Agent, in light of your insubordination. You will remain awake and interrogate the asset once you return.” His words cut into her bruised ego.

“Sir I haven’t slept since -“

“Does it sound, like I care…” his words struggle past his teeth into her ear.

“No, sir.”

“Then sign off. Stay alert….” She pulls the earpiece out and grips it so tightly she snaps the delicate tool into pieces. As she heads off with the team she readies her mind for interrogating the initial target. Some silver spoon punk who was probably kept around as more of a decoration than an asset. Breaking him should be easy enough, but her thoughts stray back to Anselm, the intensity in his gaze and how sure he carried himself, despite the brace…

0600

She walks groggily down the empty hall, gripping onto a hot cup of coffee. This time dressed in casual civilian clothes of Jeans and a Tee she keeps stashed away for emergencies in her locker.

“Can’t believe he’s making me interview this little punk first thing.” She yawns.

“Alright kid - we can do this the easy way or -“ her words cut short in her throat. The slumped form of Anselm tied to the chair in the center of the room.

“Sir,” She clips into her new ear piece “I think you need to see this…”

The minutes pass like lifetimes until finally her boss rounds the corner. “You’ve got to be fucking -“ he growls, whipping the door open, taking a good look, and closing it softly “kidding me…” his final words come out in an exasperated sigh as he rubs his temples. “And this wasn’t you?” He asks without looking up at her.

“Absolutely not sir, I got outta there before the team hit… Did you want me to still do the interrogation?” Her tone shifts to something softer, not wanting to piss her boss off more than he already is.

He whirls on her, “I’ll take you at your word this wasn’t you… But it’s still on you for not containing the original target when you had the chance. When the higher-ups come down on our asses for catching this fucking shark instead of his stupid little nephew, I’m pointing them in your direction unless you get something usable out of him. Understood?”

She nods once “Any limitations?”

“Keep ‘m alive.” He growls before stalking off, a heavy invisible weight on his shoulders.

She steps calmly back into the interrogation room, closing the door a little harder than necessary. Anselm jolts in his chair, eyes squinting as they settle on her. “You again, dangerous little Maus, where have you whisked me to.” He tisks while taking in his surroundings.

“Sorry to disappoint, we don’t have any better accommodations at present.” She sighs and sits a couple feet away in the singular opposing chair. “So tell me Anselm, you feeling okay?” She puts on a saccharine smile.

“Oh my dear you know the ropes aren’t very comfortable.” He wiggles a bit to test them. Looks like the team had decided on simple restraints on his ankles, torso and wrists. “And you’re american? Such a pity.” He tuts.

She crosses her legs and takes a long sip of her coffee.

Anselm eyes the cup, licking his lips for a moment then meeting her gaze again. “Uncomfortable chair, no refreshments, not even a table to negotiate.”

“Oh well see that’s where you’ve not quite caught up. We aren’t negotiating, this is more of well, let’s call it a knowledge seeking interview.”

“Darling, I think I know what an interrogation room looks like. But why bring me here hmm?” He quirks up a brow “I do say you would’ve gotten whatever you wanted in that slick little number you were wearing in earlier. But, you Americans do love your Blue Jeans…”

“I don’t think my clothes will prevent me from learning what I wanna know.” She takes another long sip, enjoying that little lip lick of his again. “Thirsty?”

Anselm chuckles softly, “Very, would you mind?”

“Oh not at all,” She stands slowly “You help me, I’ll help you. How’s that sound. Little quid pro quo.”

“What do you want to know my dear.” He eyes her as she makes her way to him. That dark gaze grazes over her.

“Well for starters, that mansion of yours.” She queries casually “Why along a cliff?”

“This is what the American Goverment wishes to know?”The lilt in his voice coaxes the faintest smirk to her lips.

“This is what I wish to know. Consider this the quid” she encourages.

“Well, for the view of course.” He shrugs.

“Huh… how boring.” She sighs “but fair is fair.” She takes her coffee cup and brings it to his lips “I’m sure you don’t mind sharing.” In reality, this was a test, just how far she could get away with him. If he would share a drink with her, there may be some trust. Trust leads to answers.

“Not at all,” He murmurs as she tilts the cup, he drinks deep for a moment before she pulls it away. “Thank you my darling, in fact I prefer it. You know how it is after people try to poison you. After the first few you only eat or drink after others have, ahaha.” There it is again, that strange little giggle.

“Can’t say I do, but good to keep in mind.” She shakes her head a moment, setting the coffee cup on the floor beside his chair and getting comfortable in her own. “Now, I’ve got a few questions if you don’t mind.”

“Anything my dear.”

“Tell me about the weapons trade, how’s everything going hmm? I hear the Russians have really been giving you a hard time.” She eyes him while crossing her legs, foot bouncing casually.

“Okay, almost anything.” He coughs, “You understand I cannot discuss such matters with you my dear. Despite your beauty and statuesque figure.”

Is he still flirting? Is he serious? She decides to test it. “Aww Anselm, you’ve disappointed me.” She tuts as she stands, walking past him to a nearby table laid with all sorts of instruments to help loosen one’s tongue. “I thought you’d make this easy for both of us.”

“My darling, nothing with me is easy. You’ll come to enjoy that I hope.” He try’s to turn, unable to get her into his peripheral.

“I’m not one for puzzles, or games,” she comes around to face him, twirling a set of pliers in her hand “And to be brutally honest I’m not the best when it comes to patience.”

He eyes the instrument in her hand for a moment before his gaze roams over her body again. “Now that is truly a use for me. Teaching you patience, it is one of life’s greatest pleasures.” His tone shifts low, sultry.

She decides to lean in, a hand on either arm and her face just inches from his, “Do you think you’re in much of a position to teach me anything right now?” Her tone drops low to meet his.

“My dear, things can change so quickly you know.” His eyes flicker down to her lips, “It would make things so much easier for you to play nice.”

She leans back and barks out a laugh. “You can’t be serious right now. You are in a hidden bunker in for all you know the damn ocean. I pull out pliers and you don’t so much as bat an eye?”

“Don’t let my own handsomeness fool you, you must not know who you are dealing with to think such a simple tool would frighten me.” Anselm is deadly calm as he speaks. Somehow, despite him being the one tied to a chair authority radiates from him. “I do urge you, untie me now and save yourself some trouble later feisty maus.”

She’s about to put her tool to work when the door behind her bursts open. In an instant someone is on her, choking her from behind and lifting her high enough her feet no longer touch the ground. She claws and kicks to no avail as two more men sweep in and quickly release Anselm from his bindings.

“Don’t kill her, I like this one.” His words cut through her choking gasps and for a moment the grip around her throat loosens. “A little lower.”

The arms around her lower till they are face to face again. She’s clinging onto consciousness by a thread, her ears ringing and limbs going limp.

Anselm drags his thumb over her lower, “beautiful feisty maus, rest up. When you wake it will be your turn to help me.” He gives a quick nod and that grip tightens again. The last thing she hears is indistinguishable words in his short tone. The final sensation is the gentle brush of fingers across her cheek as her world fades into darkness.

———————————

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie4art @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxight-blog @faretheeoscar @queerponcho @for-a-longlongtime @silvernight-m

[marsprincess889]

Slightly controversial?

My take/opinion on asteroids

So I only ever talk about vedic astrology(mainly nakshatras) here, because that is the most interesting astrology can get for me.

But I'm also someone who thinks that you can learn about yourself/the world using different methods, as long as they don't contradict each other or fail to make sense. For example, there are no nakshatras in navamsa, like come on, I've already explained why I think that is just straight up false(the post is linked in the masterlist). That being said, I see no harm in exploring asteroid placements(BUT THAT HAS TO HAVE LIMITS).

There is no way some asteroid's sign/house placement can explain major patterns in a person's life, unless it's tightly conjunct a planet or an angular house, or any other important point. If you have, for example, Sirene in Leo, and someone says that that means that your allure is magnetic/dazzling/attracts attention(even though it does not make tightly conjunct or opposite important planets) then I'm sorry, but I don't think that's true😭 you might have that kind of allure because of something else, and don't let me saying this affect your self-esteem. My point is, asteroids are minor, but if they are on the same freaking degree as your moon, then yeah, they're important(other than when the asteroid was discovered in like the past two centuries and/or named after someone famous).

Mythological asteroids that make those important aspects are worth checking into, but again, even if that is the case, do not get carried away by long, fanciful interpretations. My advice would be to just research the asteroid yourself. I am saying this with the genuine intention to be truthful.

Anyways, in my chart, the name of the asteroid that is conjunct my ascendant is the same as my first name 🙃. Not revealing that one, lmao, obviously, for privacy reasons, but I also have a few that are conjunct my moon and sun/saturn/rahu, one that opposite that point and conjunct my ketu. Those are interesting and relevant, but in my opinion, do not in any hold the same importance as the planets.

Let me know if you guys want to know about my personal experiences/interpretations of those asteroids in my chart. ☺

Also def tell me about important asteroids in your own charts💕💕

Interact with me and take careeee