#possible beast?? whatever grace has to do????

[garciapimienta]

Jane, don’t you think before marrying him you should inquire about the strange things going on at Thornfield???

[monstersholygrail]

Do Hybrid!Readers count?

I’m thinking of a monster Reader being kept for research purposes and catching the attention of the newest hire. Cheeky, beastly Reader with an awkward, nerdy scientist who unsuccessfully tries to hide his infatuation. He stares for too long, finds pathetic excuses to work overtime, and pretends to be deeply interested in whatever topic involves Reader. Lately, he’s been spotted reading a book about Reader’s kind, particularly mating habits. For, uh, science, mind you.

Alternatively, it can be a human Reader in a monster lab. I just found the dynamic funny. :)

Aaaah, yes yes! It definitely counts, I love this sorta dynamic. It can be really hilarious and a ton of fun ^_^

None of the Scientists in the lab could really figure you out. You were a giant beast who appeared naturally incredibly threatening. So all the scientists had been a bit hesitant to get in close and really figure out what kind of Hybrid you were exactly.

But they just had to. Because for some reason, some idiot had accidently leaked to the press that they had you in custody. Before they knew it there were countless pictures and articles plastered all over the internet about you. People wanted answers and they sadly had to be the ones to get them. So they brought in a specialist.

The young Scientist stared up at you in awe the first time he met you. He couldn’t actually believe he was meeting you up close. He didn’t know how to react. In fact, he didn’t know anything at all when it came to you. You see, he wasn’t actually a hybrid specialist. He was a scientist, that part was true! Everything else may have been a slight exaggeration on his application.

He just wanted to see you so so bad. He had to. The moment he saw those pictures of you he knew the two of you were meant to be. You were the reason he had never totally clicked with humans, couldn’t keep a partner, and had never fallen in love. His heart was waiting for you.

And now that he was with you, he needed to know everything about you. Not only to sate his own desire but also, ya know, to keep his job. Or else some foolish human might try and separate him from you again. It left him fawning over you constantly, watching you all day everyday, always staying late just so he could be alone with you for a couple hours, and butting in whenever someone tried to talk about you. Because of course he knew you best.

His growing knowledge of you left him convinced you were nearing your heat. Your restless behavior. The way you kept banging against the glass trying to get to him. Over the weeks you had noticed his interest and his care and yours had grown just as much. You had chosen him as your mate and he wanted to be there for you.

The only thing he could think to do was read books on mating behaviors. Of just about every single Hybrid species you could possible be.

Stacks of books surround him in the lab. His interest of you hadn’t gone unnoticed by the others. Not by a long shot. But they brushed off his strange behavior if jt kept him closer to you and them farther away. They avoid him now too, looking at him like the absolute freak he is as they realize what he’s reading.

Their worry doesn’t decrease when he later explains how you need to mate soon in order to keep you in check. They look at him like he’s truly gone insane and maybe he has. The wild look in his eye has only grown more intense the more he’s been around you without truly being with you.

He convinces them with the idea that you’ll be better after you’ve mated. Easier to handle. More open to having experiments done on you while your body is sated and exhausted after being fucked for hours on end. While in reality, from what he’s studied, the opposite is true.

He doesn’t plan on letting them go anywhere within a mile of you. Not with injections, chemicals, and especially not with their grubby little hands. No, only he can touch you. Only he deserves to be near your beauty and grace.

After you mate with him you’re going to be even more wild and destructive, your instincts inflamed and ready to fight. He’s gonna use that to get you two out of that lab if it’s the last thing he does.

Meanwhile the other scientists don’t suspect a thing as they stand a safe distance away from the cage as it opens to let the young scientist inside. The metal door snaps shut once he’s inside and he feels like he can finally breathe now that there’s nothing keeping you two a part.

Mirroring smirks grow on your faces, your expressions speaking of a secret just between the two of you. And as you both finally meet each other in a passionate embrace, you know this will be a wild night that will end with your freedom and a mate by your side.

[shalomniscient]

ONCE UPON A TIME...

⤷ a series re-imagining famous fairy tales with assorted genshin women !

⤷ featuring:

beauty and the beast [eula lawrence] ➳ on the edges of mondstadt, nestled in the frigid mountains of dragonspine, is a lonely, forgotten castle. word around town is that within the cold stone walls is a monstrous beast, a scion of the cursed lawrence family. you are content to live your days far ignorant of such a rumor, but when your father gets into a terrible accident in the mountains, you have no choice but to take your chances with whatever lurks in the castle to save him.

the little mermaid [raiden ei] ➳ the world above the water has always fascinated you. the tales of rolling hills and towering mountains, vast plains and mystical forests; and of course, the people. the people who sing and dance and run along the shore, carefree and lively. you wish, and you wonder, what it's like to be part of that world. your wish is granted somewhat on a stormy night, when a ship crashes against the rocks and scatters its human occupants to the waves. against what you've been told, you rush to save the one person you can find--a beautiful, purple-haired woman, dressed in fine, ornate clothing. it's a meeting that will change your life, forever.

snow white [arlecchino] ➳ your step-mother wants you dead. you know as much, when she cast you from your own home and into the cold woods, setting a hunstman on your tail. you barely escape with your life. the little cottage you stumble upon as you run, and the seven little fools you find inside become your saving graces. you spend your days there in peace, and even meet a handsome, dual-tone haired prince who passes by the cottage ever so often on her hunts. but peace, as you've learned, is fragile, and your world is upended again when your step-mother discovers that you're alive. and you can't help but wonder--is a happily ever after simply not in your cards?

rapunzel [beidou] ➳ when you were born, your parents gave you to a sea monster. you don't know why, and you were never told why. all you know is that you are this beast's prisoner, forever to be locked away in a tower by the sea. there is no escape for you; the only exit is the window, and the only thing waiting beneath it are jagged rocks and harsh waves. the beast comes and goes, ascending your tower using your hair as a rope. he calls your name in a singing rhyme, and you let down your hair. only one night, it is not the beast whom climbs through your window--but a charming, pretty pirate, who brings the first light of companionship to your life.

cinderella [jean gunnhildr] ➳ life is not easy after your mother's death. your father does his best, yet the woman he brings home to replace her is cruel. but she makes your father happy (or at least, you tell yourself as much) so you keep your head down and do as she and her daughters order you to. it isn't too bad. the attic is your refuge, and the barn mice keep you company. in the dark you gaze through the window at the glittering palace in the distance, and you let yourself dream of a sweeter life. but magic--magic has a way of turning dreams to reality, and there is more magic in your life than you know.

⤷ notes/disclaimers : ➹ this will not be a 1:1 retelling! i will of course do my best to be as close as possible to the source material, but since i will be incorporating genshin lore into this as well, i will be taking several creative liberties. also, some of the source material is... dark, and i'll be changing that because i personally don't enjoy writing dark content of that level. ➹ this is currently not the finalised list! i plan to add maybe two more characters, but i have yet to figure out how to work their corresponding fairy tales. ➹ unfortunately, there won't be a upload schedule! as much as i wish i could write only this for the next few weeks, i have other life things to handle, so i'll only be working on this in my free time. nonetheless, i'll do my best to get them up as soon as i can.

[celtigxr]

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. v: Aegon's Doom

Chapter Summary: Aegon faces the consequences of his actions, and Valeana is caught in the crossfire.

Word Count: 3172

Sneak Peak: She furrowed her brow, “You wouldn’t dare.” “Oh, sweetling, if I’m going down, I’m taking you down with me.”

Warnings: MDNI, 18+. A little smut. A little yandere.

T H E   R E D S

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Three days and three nights passed since they had arrived at King’s Landing. It was almost like they had never left; their routine seemed to pick up exactly where it left off. Their mornings were spent in their solar, their afternoons were spent with Helaena and Alicent, and their evenings were spent as a family. They would embroider, they would gossip, they would talk of weather and of new trends. Valeana found herself in moments of recognition, as if she had lived those moments thousands of times.

“You’ve become a master of your craft, Lady Valeana,” Queen Alicent had said as she walked around her chair to watch her embroider. “You’ve done things with thread I never thought possible.”

“You flatter me, your Grace,” Valeana smiled over her shoulder, and returned to her work. It was nothing unique, nothing new; a dark purple flower that stared at her every day for the last three days when she sat down in the gardens in the exact same place, under the stone rotunda. She had a pot of ink beside her where she would dip the thread to darken in places where shadows were necessary. 

It was just the two of them there at the moment. Helaena had left to follow a butterfly that flew by, and Shyla had spotted Aegon passing by the balconies that looked over the gardens. She excused herself and hasn't been heard of since. As for her stepmother and stepsister, they were walking through the garden, likely talking of matters that would bore Valeana. 

“I heard you’re now a dressmaker,” Alicent moved around her chair and settled in her own. “I suspect there will be many balls in the following weeks, more than enough opportunities to show your skills.”

Val gave a small smile, “I made a few, but not all. If I made something new for every event, your Grace, I would never leave my quarters.”

“Hm, that is true. And I’d imagine your sisters would demand gowns of their own as well.”

Pale-haired girl gave a humourless laugh, “Oh, they already have, before we even set foot in King’s Landing. But I am not a slave, and so they must suffer with whatever seamstress mother pays for.” 

“Would it trouble you terribly if I asked you to make me a dress?”

Valeana stilled as she looked up with a stunned expression, “A-a dress? I-Of course! It would be an honour, your Grace!”

Alicent’s smile was gentle and maternal, her hand reaching out and placing it on Val’s forearm, “You are a treasure, my dear.”

“What kind of dress would you like?”

“A fortnight after the Tourney takes place, I am hosting a grand ball here in the Keep. The theme is creatures, beasts, animals, where people shall dress up as anything they choose, be it plain, magical or mythical.”

“Intriguing… My mind is already reeling at the possibilities.”

“I’m glad you approve. I suspect my husband and children will be dressed as dragons.”

“Naturally.”

“I know I am not a Targaryen, but I do not wish to appear an outlier with my own family.”

Valeana smiled gently and gave her a nod, “A dress for a dragon, then.” 

She nodded, “Exactly. A green one; I am still a Hightower.”

The younger girl couldn’t help but chuckle, “Of course, your Grace. I already have some ideas in mind. When do you want to begin?”

“We have time, of course, so when you are ready. I would like to see your ideas, and then we can browse fabrics.”

“I look forward to it, my Queen.”

This was possibly the longest conversation that Val has had with Alicent, she realized. Even as children, it was nothing but small talk, or they’d exchange words when they sat with Helaena. She wasn’t entirely certain the Queen ever liked her, especially after the incident. Aemond got lashes for it, despite his mother begging for him to be spared from the punishment. If she directed any ire onto Valeana, she was unaware of it. Before it happened, Val was always in awe of the Queen’s effortless grace. Both her and Princess Rhaenyra held beauty that felt so ethereal and unreal to her. Valeana wished she could grow up to be as poise and dignified as the Queen Consort, and as tall and proud as the Crown Princess. Alas, she was short, stocky, and the weight of her insecurities were chained on her ankles.

Before an awkward silence could settle between them after the conclusion of their conversation, Alicent was quick to get into what she actually wished to talk to Valeana about. 

“I know… I know this is a sensitive subject, my dear, but…” Alicent’s teeth ran over her bottom lip, her eyes were casted down to her hand, still on Valeana’s forearm. “I heard about what was said during supper the other day.”

Valeana turned away, back at her forgotten embroidery, “Ah.”

“Helaena told me,” the Queen added, as if naming the innocent messenger would change anything. “I do not blame you for showing some animus towards Aemond because of what happened. However, I feel that I must defend my son… He was trying. He was trying to make amends with you, Valeana. I hope you can see it.”

The younger girl raised her shoulders as she took a sharp inhale to ground herself. Her eyes were staring steadily at the flower in front of her, her embroidery loop falling onto her lap. The Queen did not know what she asked of her. She did not know the gravity of pain her son inflicted on her. 

Alicent’s hand gripped her arm slightly tighter, and she continued. 

“Please forgive him, Valeana,” her eyes flickered down, and a shadow of a benign smile appeared on the corner of her lip. “I understand that a broken leg is nothing to bat an eye at, but you’ve healed; you walk again. The evidence of accidents past–”

“I lost my foot, your Grace,” Valeana exhaled, her eyes pinched closed as she held back the words she wished she wanted to say, but couldn’t. 

‘Would Aemond forgive Lucerys? Would you allow Rhaenyra to talk to Aemond the same way?’

At Val’s spoken words, Alicent froze, the ghost of her smile gone, and her eyes wide with confusion. 

“But– you’re walking. You stand—”

In a slow and languid movement, Val removed her arm from under the Queen’s hand, and pulled up her skirts, revealing her calf, covered in a stocking. With her other hand she leaned over and knocked on the wooden appendage. 

“My foot and part of my leg was turning black; it was decaying. They had to amputate it, lest it poison my blood and kill me,” Val swallowed and then unfurled her dress over it again. 

The Queen still stared down at Valeana’s skirts, her face ashen, eyes wide, and mouth slightly parted. She had not known… No one had told her. Valeana suspected not many people in Court knew, outside perhaps the Maesters.

“It was not just my leg he had broken, either, your Grace. Aemond betrayed me – or perhaps played me. I’m not sure which. Either way, I thought we were friends all our lives, and in the final seconds of our friendship he had called me a pig and pushed me. Your son had a place in my heart once, your Grace, but that has since been severed along with my leg.”

The silence was painful, it was stifling. For once the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was at a loss for words. Her eyes migrated to the stone floor, and her lips finally closed into a thin line. 

“I am–I am sorry–”

The lump in Valeana’s throat caused her to stand up immediately, “Would you please excuse me, your Grace. I have to– I must make water.”

Alicent looked away, lips shut as she nodded. 

And swiftly, Valeana left the gardens, leaving her embroidery forgotten on the floor where her feet stood. 

T H E  G R E E N S 

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Aegon had spent the better part of the day dodging Shyla Celtigar. The days before were much the same. At first, it was amusing; Aegon loved the attention, but then it got too much, too fast.

 Well, it might have been because he encouraged her. It began when she appeared at his solar door, holding a plate of pastries and the desire to speak alone. It escalated when Aegon got the grand idea to test how far Shyla’s affections would go, and his uncontrolled desire to get his dick wet. When it involved his pleasures, he would throw caution to the wind. 

It was post nut clarity that made him realize the gravity of the situation. She was on his lap, her fingers wrapped around his member, stroking him vigorously and eagerly, and speaking to him the entire time. He wasn’t paying attention, though. His eyes were shut, his nose pointing to the ceiling as he craned his neck back against the chair. Aegon’s mind was concentrating on pale hair, wide hips, green eyes, and a pair of perfect tits. 

“Oh, I cannot wait to have your children, my Prince.”

When the height of his orgasm left him, he opened his eyes to see Shyla (not her) staring at him. Her hands were coated in his seed, and she was looking at it as if she had discovered a precious gem in a stone.

Damn his cock. It so often replaced his head in the worst possible moments. When Aemond was out fending for his life against their nephews and cousins at Driftmark, Aegon had decided to ignore the screams and dragon’s roar he heard outside his window, because he was already balls deep in a serving wench he met at his aunt’s funeral. 

This was possibly much worse than that, because now he was the victim. There were nary a place for him to hide in the Red Keep where Shyla Celtigar couldn’t reach him. White cloaks betrayed his location after she batted her long lashes and asked in the sweetest voices, or a Maester or Septa who did not know better would point out the corner that he disappeared behind. Aemond, of course, was far too eager to help Shyla find Aegon, even so much as leading the girl right into the small kitchen he was hiding in. 

Fucking Aemond… A traitorous cur, that one. So eager to put his brother under the horse’s hooves when given the opportunity. If only he could crack his marble exterior…

At the moment, Aegon was hiding in a closet of some kind. It was narrow, cluttered with brooms, mops and buckets, and vaguely smelled of vinegar and soap. He heard the sound of swiftly approaching feet, but that was all. He had learned Shyla’s footsteps when they approached, and made note of the noises she would give. She always had her mouth open, and breathed through it loudly. Every once in a while she would talk to herself, or call out his name.

The steps that approached sounded feminine, at least. 

Aegon slowly pushed open the door, poking his head out to peer cautiously down the corridor one way, and then turned to look the other way. 

“Aegon?” Valeana stood behind him, frozen in place, looking at him incredulously. “What are you–”

Aegon had been startled to see her in an otherwise empty corridor, but then when he heard the pitter-patter of another approaching, he shushed her and clamped a hand over her mouth to listen closely. 

“Excuse me, Ser, but have you seen Prince Aegon?” Eyes turning into saucers and panic gripping his throat, Aegon yanked the confused Valeana into the closet with him, keeping his hand firmly over her mouth. Valeana struggled against his hold, curses vibrating against his palm. Aegon pushed his weight on her, eyes wide and pleading, and mouth hiss whispering to her to be quiet.

Shyla’s feet scurried by the door, the shadow of her form could be seen through the crack underneath.

“Aegon~” Shyla sang, “Where are you? Where are you, where are you, my love?”

Aegon looked over at Valeana. She raised an eyebrow at him.

As Shyla walked by the door, Aegon’s muscles relaxed. Her voice and footsteps could still be heard, but he felt safe enough to slowly pull down his hand from Val’s mouth. When he did, he was taken back by the smug look she had on. 

“So when’s the wedding?” 

He scowled, “Never, if the Gods are kind.”

“Did you tell her that?” Val crossed her arms, pushing herself up against the wall, as far away from his body as possible. Should anyone open the door, her virtue would be compromised. It would save her from a prolonged courtship with strangers, but she did not want to be chained to Aegon Targaryen, the self proclaimed dragoncock. 

“No,” the tips of his ears burned, “If I reject her, I fear she may castrate me.” 

“Oh, she’d make your cock explode like a sausage on a spit,” Valeana nodded casually, and Aegon stepped away from her in horror and disgust. “My brother had a steward once, Jon, I believe his name was. He rejected her advances quite harshly, and a sennight later, he disappeared.”

“Gods, your sister is a lunatic–”

“It is men who make her loony,” Val then sharply prodded the prince on the shoulder, “What did you do, Aegon?”

He rubbed his shoulder, “I didn’t do– Ow! Stop doing that, I am your prince, I can have your finger chopped off!”

“I already suffered at the expense of my leg at the hands of another Targaryen Prince, do you think I care if I lose a finger–” she jabbed him again, rougher this time. “Now, what in the Seven Hells did you do?”

She was going to jab again, but he swatted her hand away, “Mother’s Tits, alright, woman.” He tossed his hair back, and looked away from her. His adam's apple bobbed before he spoke, “I, uh, might have let her… Pet my dragon.”

Valeana squinted at him, “You let her touch Sunfyre?”

Aegon rolled his eyes and sunk his shoulders in exasperation, “No, I– let her pet my dragon.” He emphasized the words by gesturing towards his crotch. 

“Oh-Oh, Aegon! ‘The fuck is wrong with you!” She slapped him upside the head. 

“Stop hitting me!”

“I’ll hit you as much as you want, you vile, perverted–” they both ended up swatting each other for a few minutes before more footsteps interrupted their squabble.

“Sh! Sh! Sh!” Aegon put his finger to her lips, and they both froze as the heavy footsteps of a guard walked by the closet. Once it disappeared, Aegon pulled his hand away, and at the same time Val’s fist landed on his shoulder. 

“Ah, fuck, woman! Hitting a prince is treason!”

She pointed a finger at him, and he flinched, “You defiled my innocent sister, you deserve more!”

“Innocent?!” He scoffed, “She knew exactly what she was doing. She held my cock like an expert, your sister–” This time, Aegon caught her with his larger hand wrapped around her wrist. He gave her a warning glare, “Your sister took advantage of me.”

“Do you really think I am going to believe that bullshit?!” She twisted her arm, trying to pull it from his grasp, but his vice grip was much stronger than she’d imagined. “Let go of me, Aegon.” 

“I’ll let you go if you promise not to hit me.”

She calmed for a moment, sighing through her nose and closed her eyes. Aegon was nearly about to loosen his grip, but her other hand came out of nowhere and slapped him across the cheek. It did not nearly hurt as the punch, given it was not her dominant hand, but it was enough to turn his head and take him off guard. But before she could hit him again, he grabbed her other wrist with his free hand and pushed her against the wall, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“Your sister is mad,” Aegon stated while Val tried to push against him, but he put his entire weight on her. Standing a head taller than her, his form was a tower and she had no choice but to crane her neck up at him. The prince found he quite liked this angle, this position. “Do me the favour of diverting her attention away, and I will owe you.”

“I do not need any favour from you, Egg.” 

He smiled, grinned, bared his teeth. 

“Glad to see we’re on a pet-name basis now, my little crab cake. Y’know, this is quite the compromising position. If your sister  finds us like this, what do you think she’ll do… to you?”

She furrowed her brow, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, sweetling, if I’m going down, I’m taking you down with me.”

Valeana glared at him, resolute in her stubborn silence. Aegon didn’t waver his stare, but he did move his middle closer to hers until their stomachs were flushed against each other. Val’s face twisted and she tried to wiggle her arms free, but she was stuck between a wall and a dragon. 

“Do you hear that,” Aegon’s eyes lifted towards the door, “I think I hear her footsteps coming this way." 

“You’re bluffing.”

He grinned wider, then feigned a moan, “Oh~ my Lady V–” 

“Shhhhtttt—” Valeana hissed in a panic, waving her useless fingers under his grasp, “Fine! Fine! I’ll help you!”

Chuckling softly, Aegon pulled himself off, “That’s what I thought.” He tilted his head at her as she tried to collect herself. Her chest was heaving, and that was when he realized just how close he was to her chest. Her heavy, soft, peachy mounds… His tongue flicked out over his bottom lip. The Prince quickly ripped his eyes away from her before his cock could take control of his mind again. “Now–”

He was cut off by the distinct voice of Shyla, causing the two of them to catch each other’s panicked eye. 

“You say you heard it coming from here?” Shyla’s voice was just beyond the door. 

Aegon spun around, trying to find a place for them to hide in the closet, but there was nothing large enough for them to find cover. Except for…

 Aegon looked down at Valeana’s dress. 

“What are you–” She started to kick Aegon away from her, but he grabbed her leg as he crawled under her skirts. 

“Shut up! Don’t move, and stand still!”

Valeana had no choice, because the door was opening. She stood rigidly still, trying to take up as much space as possible to hide Aegon’s legs that were poking from underneath her dress from behind. Flushed and out of breath, Valeana attempted to appear casual in the servant’s closet when the door swung out and revealed the confused face of her sister. 

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad 

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[rayan12sworld]

💠Besotted Beast

By:retired (misbehavingvigilante)

Summary:

Lan Wangji has laid claim on Wei Wuxian’s soul to devour it in return for services rendered for revenge, and time is up.

Or, a beast in love is most dangerous towards their beloved.

Chapter:1/1

Words :11,882

Status:completed

[demon Lan Zhan] [human to demon wei ying]

After their meeting? If another demon had tried to claim Wei Wuxian? Lan Wangji would have killed them without hesitation. He does not share. No one else may have what is his.

~~

A shame really that there will be none like Wei Wuxian once he is gone. Other demons have questioned Lan Wangji as why he is willing to leash himself to a human without even understanding what it is that he is after. It is not his fault their minds are too small to grasp that he is running the long game. He would not be foolish enough to fall in love with a human.

~~

at the idea of Wei Wuxian viewing Wen Qng in such a light, as a potential bride, it makes any affection he has for her sour immediately.

~~

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian tried again. “Lan Zhan. What is going on?” Lan Wangji does not answer, or in a way he does by claiming Wei Wuxian’s lips. He is a fool that has fallen in love with a human. He is, he is, he is. How oblivious could he have been?

~~

“What? Are you going to take my soul now?” Wei Wuxian’s voice does not waver, he has made peace with his fate and had always known he was living on borrowed time gifted by Lan Wangji’s grace. “Your soul is already mine to do whatever I wish with, but I want more.” Puzzlement comes to Wei Wuxian’s eyes next. “My body also already belongs to you, so what more could you possibly want from me?” “Everything and eternity.”

~~

Lan Wangji doesn’t care about what he is supposed to do, all he cares about keeping Wei Wuxian alive. Even if he forfeited the claim on Wei Wuxian’s soul until the other died of natural causes, that wouldn’t be enough. He wants Wei Wuxian, he wants Wei Wuxian so much that everything else pales in comparison.

~~

There is a sting in his flesh where there was not where Wei Wuxian’s nails have turned into talons, and when Wei Wuxian looks up it’s with matching silver eyes. “You cannot have a wife, you can only be my wife.” “Yes, yes…” Wei Wuxian agreed although his voice is a little hoarse from the screaming. “A beautiful bride and a beautiful demon.” Lan Wangji dotes several kisses onto Wei Wuxian’s face .

~~

[ddarker-dreams]

lock!!! I need ur thoughts on Wriothesley

holding myself hostage to not go on another panopticon tangent

wriothesley has piqued my interest!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the underwater prison in particular adds so many unique possibilities to him as a yandere. one of my absolute favorite horror experiences is the game soma, with its decrepit submarines and the intense claustrophobia from being stuck underwater... i find the ocean terrifying. like wtf is going on down there. what is a leviathan. why are giant sea beasts mentioned consistently throughout so many ancient cultures. Why are there noises picked up in the ocean that cannot be sourced. why are anglerfish. why why why.

as it relates to yan wriothesley — the fortress of meropide would have a subjugating presence that rivals his. creaking metal vents, dripping pipes, the all-consuming scent of saltwater and rust; running back to his arms would be a temptation. it'd play an integral role to ensuring your cooperation. wriothesley doesn't demand complete submission. he knows human nature, the tenacity sentience imbues, for better or for worse. he doesn't see the appeal in dampening the flames that burn within you. he'd rather build a perimeter around it that'll keep the fire from spreading and burning too hot.

total transparency isn't how he operates, though. he'll clue you in, build the maze you're to navigate, but won't hand over the blueprints. you're free to traverse the fortress as you please. you can talk to whoever you want, say whatever you want, such is your prerogative. at first, you can't help but find him naively arrogant. he might be "the duke," but even he must have limitations.

or so you think.

the vacant areas that guards seemingly overlook wind and stretch for miles. each step diminishes your hope, little by little. will your provisions last? do you really have the expertise to pull off a successful dive and ascent? why did a prudent man such as wriothesley leave a potential escape route unobstructed? these doubts are weights that drag you down, and, inevitably, back to where he waits.

this leaves pleading your case to your fellow inmates or the guards. the first time you try, it's a rush of adrenaline, stumbling over your words just in case he'd come dragging you back at a moment's notice. this incoherent accusation of his grace forging false evidence to keep you here, in the depths where he'd like you, doesn't go as you dreamed. you're either met with awkward apprehension or outright ignored. in the case of the former, it's safe to assume they think you're having a break from reality. the latter is worse, more cruel; they can see where you're coming from and elect to do nothing about it. why should they endanger themselves for your sake? it's a dog-eat-dog world in the fortress.

defeated and humiliated, you return to the administrative area 'willingly.' there he waits, the door unlocked to show he anticipated your return, leisurely sipping his tea. he isn't angry, bitter, or vicious. he just simply asks,

"did you have a nice chat?"

[onskepa]

Hii! Could you please do a vampire reader? It can be whatever you like (only If you feel comfortable), I love your writing so much!

Hellooooooooooooo darling~!! Sorry if this comes out as short, I did my best to extend it but I hope you enjoy this one~!!

---------------

Reypay

The na’vi have many stories to tell, each holding a specific purpose. To hold memories of those long gone, to tell of legendary stories, the heroes, the fallen, the times of sorrow, many stories that carry on and hold tradition. And there are many more stories that are new, still fresh. 

Be it odd, funny, or sad, there is a story for something. There are even stories to warn others, precautionary tales. Stories of things that lurk in the dark. What danger lies in place of which you cannot see. What happens to those who were not careful enough, falling victim to those warnings. But what story out there could be warning people? One. There is one story, a tale, a warning. A story that all na’vi have come to know.

“Is that a threat Dr. Augustine?” 

“Not a threat, but a warning” 

“Please, we got bullets, machines and a fuckton of blades. Nothing will stand in our way” 

In the Avatar program wing, Dr. Grace Agustine was standing bravely to the current Colonel Dayrl Hempenton. Beside him was his lieutenant colonel, Miles Quaritch.  Both stand tall, smirking in a disgusting smug way. Hempenton was looking down at Grace as if she knew nothing about pandora. 

“I'm telling you Colonel, you and your squad will end up dead before you reach the site. There is something worse than the viperwolves, worse than the thanators, worse than any predator native to pandora. Both the fauna and Na’vi fear this monster” Grace says in a stressful way. But Hempenton and Quaritch laugh it off. Cant say she didn't warn them. 

Grace knew better, if she cant stop them, only they will know what lies in the darkness of Pandora

The forest at night was restless, the animals, big and small can feel it. Quick and silent did the monster go. Looking for its next supply. It grows hungry, its need to feed grows strong every day. The insatiable hunger, to quench its thirst. It's been days since its last feeding. 

As it runs silently in the dense forest, within the territory of the Omatikaya village, Mo’at can feel the uneasiness of the forest. She knows. Mo’at knows that the beast hungers, and if it is not fed soon, she fears the bond will break and will come for her people. 

But it seems her troubles won't be long, as her little human technology beeps in the quietness. Grace has sent the word. Humans will be in the forest, and from what mo’at can understand, a population of 30 humans will enter the grounds. This makes mo’at sigh in relief. 

“Tonight, the beast shall have her blood….”

Many humans have landed down from their flying machines, armed and ready to reach their desired destination. They were equipped, ready to tear down any danger that is to come. Hempenton clicks on his voice communicator, radioing in on his luteninent. “Gold card this is hawks eye, we are on land and will pursue” he informs. 

Leading his team, they all silently start to make their way. It was dark and quiet as expected, making as minimal sounds as possible, using the heat signals of their cameras to spot anything hiding in the dark. 

“Hey colonel” one of the soldiers calls out to hempton. The leader turns, “yeah, what is it?”. The soldier looks at his radar in concern, “I see nothing sir, nothing on my radar” he responds. His fellow comrades chuckled like he made some silly statement. “Of course there is nothing soldier, it's night, everything is most likely asleep” Hempton responds as he makes clear a path. But the soldier frowns. 

“That is the problem sir. There is nothing around us, don't you hear it? It's dead silent. There is not even nocturnal animals around”

Quaritch and his squad were at their designated base, many armed and ready when given command from Hempton in radio. So far things seemed relaxing, every few minutes the squad would give updates and Quaritch would tell them how far they are from the place they needed to be. 

Booze and music was being played, feeling confident that their mission would go well.

But their cockiness blinded them. 

Soon in the intercoms, loud, painful screams were heard. 

Quartich grabbed his radio, “Hawks eye come in! Whats going on over there?!” he shouts, he and his squad mentally fearing the worst. 

“BACK UP!! BACK UP NOW!!” was what hempton was able to say after his intercom was suddenly shut off. Quaritch wasted no time and had his team fly out to the site Hempton and the rest were at. The other soldiers tried to get in touch with others but all they heard was the sound of flesh being torn, screams of unbearable pain, but no words was able to be said. 

And what felt like hours, really were only a few minutes. And what they saw was left with only pure confusion and horror. 

Machines broken, weapons shredded into small pieces It looked like a war happened. But in the middle of all the broken metal, on a wooden pike was the head of Colonel Hempenton. His eyes wide and expression of horrors to which none could know of. Whatever Hempenton saw, it was the last thing he ever saw before his untimely demise. Everyone stood silent, but had to go on, to see what else have happened. 

And then Quaritch and his squad all had the same question. 

“Where are the bodies?”

“Remember children, she is not our friend, she is not our ally, for the beast only cares for herself and no other. The bloodied beat lurks deep in the shadows, the darkness, her only enemy is the sun. To others, it is just a game to Reypay” neytiri whispers in a hush tone as she tells the old forest tale of the bloody beast, Reypay. 

Her children all look at her in amazement and horror. Yes, they hear the reypay story over and over, and will for a thousand times. 

“Mama…reypay won't come into our homes right…?” tuk asks as she huddles close to neytiri for comfort. The mother soothes tuk, stroking her hair, “no, reypay has never entered our village, never in our homes. Reypay is of many things, but even she has her own morals, "Neytiri replies. 

Neteyam gently pats tuks shoulder, “come on tuk, it's time to go to bed” he says. Neytiri guides her children to their hammocks, where Jake made sure they were all well cushioned. Each sully child is given a hug and a kiss of good night. Tuk was tucked in between kiri and lo’ak. All of them soon being carried into their own little dream world. 

All but neteyam.

In the middle of the night, Neteyam was awoken by Jake, silently gesturing to not make a lot of noise. “Dad, what's going on..?” he asks in a whispering tone, “come on” was all jake said. Guiding his son, Jake preps neteyam with his hunting blade and a short cloak. Neytiri is already waiting for them outside. 

“Mom, where are we going, what about kiri, lo’ak and tuk?” neteyam asks, getting worried by the second. Neytiri calms him, placing a kiss on the forehead, “they will be fine, we won't be taking long” she answered. The three jump from branch to branch, landing safely down to the grounds where mo’at was waiting for them. “Grandmother…?” neteyam whispers, mo’at gave him a look and all began to walk. 

Neteyam knows that no matter how many questions he asks, they won't be answered. At least not at the moment.

It was a walk, but they reached a distant floating mountain. Neteyam suggested to take the ikrans, but Jake said no. Where they were going, the ikrans were not needed. So as they reach the single small, floating mountain, Neteyam sees his fellow peers. All gathered, and all just as confused. 

“Where are we? What is going on?” Neteyam asks, looking at the mountain, he doesn't like the feeling it's emitting. Neytiri only shushes him. Jake and mo’at stand before the young crowd, “I know you are all questioning what is going on. Why you are all here, why in such hours. They will all be answered here. But heed our words young warriors, you will meet an important person. One who can be your ally, or your enemy. Choose your words wisely once you speak to her” mo’at said. 

In a single line, all of the young na’vi began to enter the mountain through its cave like entrance. Silent, only observing their surroundings. 

Neteyam enters last with his mother, with lit torches inside, they can see many things, things they wish they never saw. 

There were cages of humans, many from the recent raids Jake had led. Humans neteyam remembers were captured and taken away. He thought they were killed off sight! Many humans beg the na’vi to release them. So many cries of terror and hopelessness. “Don't give them your attention. Soon they will be gone” Jake says. 

The large group stopped at the middle of the large empty space that was inside the small mountain. Jake takes a step forth, “the stories you all have grown up with, the story of the bloody beast-” 

“It's all true~” 

A voice echoed. 

From the midst of the shadows, a human emerged from the darkness. But this human was different from what the na’vi were use to seeing. 

This human was of a young girl, her skin so deathly pale, her cheeks sunken in, ears pointed and narrow, her lips black as the night, nails long and sharp. Her eyes glowed red, and most of all was her teeth. 

Her teeth were sharp, and consisted of two sharp fangs. 

The girl licks her lips, wiping away the red liquid. 

“Greetings young warriors~ If you are all here, that means you are of age to know~” she says. Her voice is soft yet sickly smooth. 

“Age to know what? Who are you?” one of the youngsters asks. The girl giggles in a menacing way. “How rude of me~ My name is Reypay, at your delightful service” she makes a mocking bow. 

Her answer, reypay. The name of the scary tale the na’vi knew very well. But how is she real? It was a story! Just a folktale! 

“I know you are all confused, reypay? Real? Of course I am! I have been here for so long, why am I even older than mo’at here” Reypay continues. Her smile was wide and unnatural. Mo’at nods to confirm it.

“Why are we here?” Neteyam asks. And in a blink of an eye, Reypay was right at his face. Their noses are almost touching. “Neteyam Sully, my my. You have grown, I remember when you were a wee little baby. Fresh from the chrysalis. Even now you reek of that smell~"Reypay speaks, her red eyes staring down to his golden eyes. Yet her eyes held no shine, like no life was there. 

Neytiri quickly pulls her son away, hissing at Reypay in a warning manner. The girl raises her arms as a form of surrendering. “Easy there baby mama, I'm not gonna hurt him. I made my promise” proceeds to make an X across her pale chest with her sharp nail. Blood oozed for a bit until her skin healed itself. 

“You are not human, are you?” another na’vi asks. And the girl twists her neck in a gross manner, her dead eyes staring at the young one who asks. “Once. I was human once. But not any more, I am what they called a Vampire. Like in the famous story of mine. I am a creature of the darkness, enemy to the sun, and always hungry for blood~”. 

Clapping her hands, she makes her way back to Jake and mo’at. “I will cut to the chase because I have a busy schedule tonight. You all have passed your iknimaya. Now adults, which means you will all now attend the raids against the humans. What I want from you all is one simple thing….” 

The youngsters, even neteyam all leaned in to hear what reypay had to say. 

“When you fight the humans, do your best to not kill them, hurt them if you must, but do not kill” Reypay says. Of course this man the young warriors even more confused. The vampire hummed a bit, tapping her chin until she snapped her fingers. “Let me show you why”, she jumps to one of the cages, one that holds a single human, she opens the cage and grabs the human roughly and brings the being down. 

“PLEASE!! PLEASE HELP ME!! HELP ME-” the human begged but the mask was removed. 

“Bon appetite~” 

Reypay made a hissing sound and sunk her sharp fangs into the victims neck. Blood was spewing out. Feral growls were heard, her claws extended clinging tightly to the body. She was drinking human blood. And the poor human did put up a fight, but not for long. With the lack of oxygen and losing blood, the sky demon died instantly.

Neteyam couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Horror and fear was the only thing he was feeling. 

Reypay pulls away after a few minutes. Her mouth and jaw were covered in  dark red blood. “Aaaahh~ That was very refreshing~”, she drops the body like it was nothing, even stomping on the lifeless being. “As a vampire, my only source of nourishment is human blood. So calm yourself, your na’vi blood taste like shit and not even worth breaking my fangs for. What I need from you all, is to bring me as many humans as you can. In return, I keep you all safe as you sleep soundling in your little huts. This is a deal even your great great great grandparents accepted. So really, if you don't want to deal with them as much, hand the humans over”. 

There was a loud silence, so much was still being processed. mo’at stepped forward, “Reypay will keep you all safe, she has ability beyond our own. Unnatural yet powerful. I'm afraid, in this, you do not have much of a choice”. 

“She has kept you all safe for a long time. Before your parents existed. You don't need to be her friend or anything, a simple deal is all” Jake adds. 

Neteyam felt his mother slightly push him forward, “you must lead the example” neytiri whispers to him. Well he can't run away now can he? 

He takes a step towards Reypay, whose grin never leaves her dead face. “You have my word. I will give you the sky demons to keep us safe in return” he says. And not sooner enough, the other na’vi followed him. Reypay lets out a cold chuckle, “I look forward to your promise young warriors~” 

I liked how it turned out ngl. Leaves room for many guesses and stuff XD

But I hope you all enjoyed this one! Until next time! See ya!

--------

Reypay = Blood

[shadowqueenjude]

One moment, Azriel was seated. The next, he’d blasted through Eris’s shield with a flare of blue light and tackled him backward, wood shattering beneath them. “Shit,” Cassian spat, and was instantly there— And met a wall of blue. Azriel had sealed them in, and as his scarred hands wrapped around Eris’s throat, Rhys said, “Enough.” Azriel squeezed, Eris thrashing beneath him. No physical brawling—there had been a rule against that, but Azriel, with whatever power those shadows gave him … “Enough, Azriel,” Rhys ordered. Perhaps those shadows that now slid and eddied around the shadowsinger hid him from the wrath of the binding magic. The others made no move to interfere, as if wondering the same. Azriel dug his knee—and all his weight—into Eris’s gut. He was silent, utterly silent as he ripped the air from Eris’s body. Beron’s flames struck the blue shield, over and over, but the fire skittered off and fizzled out on the water. Any that escaped were torn to shreds by shadows. Azriel only said coldly, “If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance.”

Silence fell again. Azriel nodded at her. “What happened to you?” She knew what he meant: the black eye that was finally fading. Her hands and chin had healed, along with the bruising on her body, but the black eye had turned greenish. By tomorrow morning, it’d be gone entirely. “Nothing,” she said without looking at Cassian. “She fell down the stairs,” Cassian said, not looking at her, either. Azriel’s silence was pointed before he asked, “Did someone … push you?” “Asshole,” Cassian growled. Nesta lifted her eyes from her plate enough to note the amusement in Azriel’s gaze, even though no smile graced his sensuous mouth. Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.” “If they’re under a spell from Briallyn or Koschei,” Feyre asked, “then is it right to harm them like this?” The question echoed through the chamber, over the snarling of the hungry beasts. Rhys said after a moment, “No. It isn’t.” Amren said to Feyre, “The fog around their minds and the fact that they endured Azriel’s ministrations without showing an understanding of anything beyond basic pain at least confirms our suspicions.” “If that’s how you wish to justify it,” Feyre said a tad coldly, “then fine.”

"He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night. Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep." "She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars. Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence. But he could have this moment. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it." "Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them." "This was a mistake." "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." "I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway." "He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself too." "I'll defeat him with little effort." "He'd been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight... tonight had proved he'd been right to do so." Why do people think Azriel is decent? I don't think he's good enough for Elain OR Nesta. I actually think he's a fucking creep.

[jamiesfootball]

jamie gets the biggest oldest grumpiest rescue cat that has possibly ever graced the face of planet earth. three weeks later, roy ends up with a tiny, scrappy little shit of a kitten who keeps showing up at his front door and begging for scraps.

Oh no. My hand slipped.

The way Roy saw it he had two choices. He could have a long, difficult, tear-filled conversation with Phoebe about how some people were pieces of shit who never deserved to own a pet in the first place, or he could get the damn kitten into the house before the snowstorm rolled in.

"She had a collar," Roy defended himself for what must be the tenth time since he called Jamie for help. "I assumed she had a home."

"But she's so tiny," Jamie repeated for the millionth time since he'd arrived. "I don't think they're supposed to be out when they're this tiny."

Phoebe braced her mittened hands against Roy's shoulders. "Jamie, can you reach her yet? I'll crawl under there if you can't reach her."

"Absolutely not," said Roy. "I can pull him out if he gets stuck. If you get stuck, I'll have you and a cat to pry out."

Jamie, to his credit, had wasted no time in rushing over to Roy's. Phoebe barely had a chance to explain the situation before the only cat owner Roy knew dropped to the icy ground. Without making a fuss about the snow or the cobwebs or the cramped space, he'd squeezed himself under Roy's patio and started in with the cooing noises.

That was thirty minutes ago and the cooing noises had long run dry. If Roy's hands were cold, Jamie's must be freezing.

Jamie's trainers dug into the snow, kicking up a thin layer as he pushed himself further into the dark. "It's alright, Phoebe. I think I can reach her if she just comes a little closer. Psspsspss."

"Try shaking the tuna can," said Roy.

"What the fuck you think I've been doing down here?"

For once Phoebe didn't tab them for the swearing. Roy wrapped his arm around her, letting her shaking body leech whatever warmth he had left.

"Ooh! Here she comes!" Jamie whisper-yelled. Then, "Phoebe love, would you mind grabbing us a towel?"

Phoebe ran inside the house faster than Roy'd ever clocked her during training. Roy waited for her braids to disappear around the corner before asking, "There something wrong?"

A beat of quiet. "Bit of the ear's torn up. Hard to tell with the fur, but it's crumpled and she's not moving right."

Guilt slipped hot into his stomach. Stupid posh neighbors. He should've called someone when he'd spotted the little beast prowling around his bushes three weeks ago. Phoebe had begged him to try to catch it, and he'd been too distracted by visions of his sister killing him if his niece came home with a kitten to wonder what something that small was doing out in the winter in the first place.

Phoebe wore him down until he agreed that they could leave some food out. Then he had to take her to the store to buy canned tuna. By the time they returned, the kitten was gone and Phoebe, pouting, insisted they leave a can outside just in case.

Since then he'd been woken up no less than three times by sharp little cries outside his window.

If each time he forced his stiff body to get out of bed, limp outside, and put out a fresh can of tuna, then that was between him and the cat.

The way Roy saw it he had two choices. Him and his dodgy knee could call for help to rescue the cat from under the porch, or Roy could hate himself forever.

He'd never actually seen the little nuisance up close until Jamie wriggled her free.

"Oh," Jamie croaked. It was a small, soft noise, completely unintentional in its hurt.

Roy's heart made the same noise.

She really was just a tiny thing, hardly bigger than Roy's hand and trying her best to curl into a ball of nothing in the crook of Jamie's arm. Even against the soiled front of his hoodie, she looked dirty.

Roy had assumed she had a home to go back to. She had a collar. Someone had cared enough to buy her a collar.

"She's freezing," Jamie said in a voice as thin as a wire. "She barely weighs anything."

"Give her here."

Phoebe returned from her quest with an armful of towels just as Roy shrugged off his puffy winter jacket. He bundled the poor thing up--calico markings, a crooked ear, and giant amber eyes that ducked into the shadows--and he had just enough time to flip the hood of his jacket against her head before Phoebe could see her ear.

"You got her!" Phoebe screeched. She barreled into Jamie's leg, keen to give the hero of her evening a hug. Jamie barely seemed to notice, all of his awareness laser-focused on the bundle in Roy's arms.

The immeasurable responsibility that curled up tight in his jacket offered up a forlorn mew.

"Let's head in," Roy said. The snow was beginning to fall.

[blender2902]

Melina Chose To Sacrifice Herself(Marika Did Not Ask Her To Do It)

For the last 2 years, a take that I believed in was ‘Marika gave Melina her purpose, to help the tarnished become elden lord by burning the erdtree’ but now I believe that this take is simply untrue if we take all the pieces of evidence and dialogue. After looking into the lore again, I have concluded that Marika did not tell Melina to sacrifice herself but Melina chose to burn the erdtree by her own decision which she made when we after seeing her mother(Marika) in her crucified state. Don't expect any GEQ stuff, that shit is left too vague.

First let’s look at what initially suggested that Marika gave Melina the purpose of burning the erdtree-

These lines of dialogue from Melina when we reach altus-

The dialogue after defeating Morgott-

These lines of dialogue suggests that Marika gave Melina the purpose of helping the tarnished become elden lord which would lead to Melina sacrificing herself. BUT there is another piece of dialogue that flips this perspective on its head-

This one after we speak with sabriri-

Melina straight up says that whatever she is doing is out of her own free will. Let’s list down all the relevant things that we know about her goals-

She wants to help the tarnished become elden lord even though she would have to sacrifice herself for it.

She does not want us to inherit the frenzied flame as then we would end up destroying the world which means that Melina does not want life to end.

Melina is doing this ‘of her own volition’ and ‘Regardless of mother’s(Marika’s) designs.’ The first line basically tells us that sacrificing herself is Melina’s own choice and the second line implies that burning the erdtree was not part of Marika’s design (at least originally). Will discuss this point further later in this post.

Melina’s purpose that was given by Marika is different from what she ends up doing i.e. Melina choosing to sacrifice herself was Melina’s choice not Marika’s.

Let’s refute the theory where Marika gave Melina the purpose of sacrificing herself-

The assumptions made in that theory (from what I remember) were-

Marika told Melina to sacrifice herself for the tarnished

Marika likely gave torrent to Melina to help her.

When Melina went back to the erdtree, Marika somehow reminded Melina of her purpose

Let’s debunk these one by one-

Marika told Melina to sacrifice herself: The dialogue I provided earlier pretty much confirms that Melina’s sacrifice was her own choice. If Maika really did want Melina to help her accomplish her goal then Melina would have been trying a whole lot harder. Marika’s goal in guiding the tarnished via grace is 1) Free Marika from godhood and 2) free the world of the golden order. If Marika really sent out Melina to help the tarnished then I feel Melina would have given her help to many more tarnished than just us. I do believe Marika has some bias when it come to whom she wants to free her (I believe that at the end she wanted to see Godfrey one last time) but ultimately what she wants is for anyone to come and kill her along with Radagon and elden beast ending the golden order. Therefore it would be more logical for her to have Melina go for as many tarnished as possible to increase the odds but as far as we are aware Melina will only serve the one torrent chooses. There are plenty of strong tarnished in the lore so logically Melina should have helped them out but she did not it seems. This assumption simply does not add up logically and Melina’s dialogue after shabriri does contradict this.

Marika likely gave torrent to Melina: From the little we get about torrent, we know that Miquella was likely his original owner based on the first dlc image. Marika could have given it to Miquella when he was little but by the time Marika shattered the elden ring Miquella was torrents owner. Therefore its more likely that Miquella gave torrent to Melina after the shattering (probably after the battle of Aeonia) so that the tarnished could kill Radahn and send his soul to Miquella. Maybe my theory here is not exactly perfect but the point is that Marika being the one to give torrent to Melina is highly unlikely.

Melina went back to the erdtree and Marika somehow reminded Melina of her purpose: Again the dialogue I gave earlier makes it clear that whatever purpose Marika gave to Melina is different from Melina choosing to sacrifice herself. I also doubt Marika could have communicated with Melina in the state we find her in, like neither her nor Radagon speak a word.

With all this in mind we have a few facts that are established-

Melina chose to sacrifice herself out of her own volition.

The purpose Marika gave Melina is not burning the erdtree but something else.

So now we are left with a few questions-

Why did Melina choose to burn the erdtree ‘Regardless of mother’s design’

What purpose did Marika give to Melina?

Why doesn’t Melina return after we cure ourselves of the frenzied flame?

Let’s answer these one by one

Why did Melina choose to burn the erdtree ‘Regardless of mother’s design’?

To answer this, we must first see what Melina must have witnessed at Leyndell. She said that she was born at the foot of the erdtree and she is summonable for Morgott which heavily implies that she went inside the erdtree somehow. What did she see inside the erdtree? Her mother crucified in a state where she can’t be put to rest. Now we must ask, how does Melina feel about Marika? We don’t get much but the minor erdtree incantation is stated to be a ‘secret incantation of Queen Marika’ and Melina also uses this. For Melina to know how to use this incantation, she must have learned it from Marika as its her ‘secret incantation’. This implies that Marika taught Melina her secret incantation which means they must have been close. With all this in mind, we get a clear picture- Melina, wanting to ascertain her purpose. goes to her birthplace, the erdtree. Upon entering the erdtree she is met with the sight of her mother, who was very close to her, crucified. This would naturally shake her. After recovering from the shock she is reminded of one of the many conversations she had with Marika, in this one Marika talked about how the flame of the forge possessed the power to burn the erdtree and destroy it(along with the destined death stuff which could have happened here or maybe in another conversation). Now determined to free her mother from her state and finally put her to rest, she goes on another journey to burn the erdtree by sacrificing her life, all for the sake of freeing her mother. She would go against what Marika had designed for the order, which she later came to regret.

What purpose did Marika give to Melina?

This is purely up to speculation but let’s go about it logically. All the stuff with torrent is likely related with Miquella so we can rule that out. Melina serving as kindling was her own choice as I have already explained so we can rule that out as well. Now what I am going to say next will be based on my Messmer theory which you can read here-

TLDR of that post is Messmer was sealed after the night of the black knives by Marika in order to protect his life, as the base serpent got revealed somehow to the public.

Melina is implied to be Messmer’s sister so I can make the connection of her wanting to protect Messmer also applying to Melina. With all this in mind here is my theory. Before Marika shattered the Elden ring she gave Melina her purpose, to avoid all conflict and live. Years later she started doubting that Marika would give her a purpose so simple and, in a way, meaningless. Thus, she decides to venture to the erdtree. This theory answers all the questions I had about Melina’s behaviour. Why does she seemingly try so little to get an elden lord? That was not what her purpose was hence she would not try very hard. Why would she forget such an important thing? She did not forget it; she simply doubted her memory. This theory makes complete logical sense to me so I would be interested if anyone can poke a hole into this.

Why doesn’t Melina return after we cure ourselves of the frenzied flame?

There are 2 explainations to this. 1) She does not even know that we did cure ourselves. 2) Maybe she just wanted to be her mom’s saviour in a way and we took that away from her so she is pissed or maybe she just kept doing what Marika told her to do, live and forget about us.

Summary of Melina’s story- Before shattering the elden ring, Marika sent Melina away with the purpose of staying away from all the wars and to survive. This fits in with my Messmer take. After the battle of Aeonia, Miquella gave torrent to Melina so that torrent could choose a tarnished strong enough to kill Radahn and send him to the shadow realm. After a long period of time Melina starts to doubt that surviving was the purpose Marika gave her so she decides to go on a journey to the erdtree to ascertain her purpose. When she reached the erdtree she saw her mother in her crucified husk of a state. Melina then decided that she would free her mother once and for all and serve as kindling to the flame of ruin. She talks with us after meeting shabriri as the frenzied flame would kill everything which is a big no-no to Melina. Marika did not have any communication with Melina when she got into the erdtree. Marika and Melina are implied to be close as Melina uses the minor erdtree incantation which is a ’secret incantation of Queen Marika’ so its likely that Marika talked about the forge and the order of the erdtree with Melina which explains how Melina knew exactly what to do to burn the erdtree and why she thought that burning the erdtree might go against Marika’s design. She would only say ‘Regardless of my mother’s design’ if what she was doing went against what Marika had talked to her about.  Melina chose to oppose what her mother wants her to do (Marika wants her to live) to finally put Marika to rest even if it means sacrificing her own life.

[chrystallink]

Is God Privileged?

Been seeing some stuff recently about God/Jesus being considered privileged, and I have a few thoughts on it. The modern view of privilege can be a dangerous mindset, and cannot be applied to God in any shape or form. From what I have been seeing, this modern view of privilege seems to be that just because you may have something nice that others don't, you suddenly owe something to everyone else who does not have that thing. And it can get to the point where you seemingly have to apologize for it, regardless of whether you got that nice thing legitimately or not, or whether this was within your control to begin with. By itself, this view is very damaging, but I'm not going to get into all that for now. Instead, picture this: Let's say you have a talent for cooking. And one evening you decide to make your favorite dinner. You follow all the recipes flawlessly. Everything is cooked to perfection. It all smells delicious. Just as you're about to sit down and eat, a total stranger barges through the door without warning, and starts yelling at you about how your skill with cooking makes you privileged, and that you should be ashamed of yourself for having such a skill, and starts going down a long list of problems they happen to have with you personally. Once the stranger is done yelling at you and making you feel as bad as possible, they suddenly demand to take your dinner, because they feel like that will help remedy whatever faults they have found in you. Would you give it to them? Or would you refuse and say that you do not owe them anything? So in a similar vein, what makes us think that the Lord owes us something? God was the one who created everything in the beginning to perfection, and gave us life and breath. In fact, in Genesis 28-30, God gave humanity dominion over the earth:

28 Then God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it; have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”

29 And God said, “See, I have given you every herb that yields seed which is on the face of all the earth, and every tree whose fruit yields seed; to you it shall be for food. 30 Also, to every beast of the earth, to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, in which there is life, I have given every green herb for food”; and it was so.

Is that not the Lord granting us a great privilege? And did Adam and Eve not squander that privilege by heeding the serpent instead of God? And by extension, are we not doing the same every day by dwelling in our sin? God could have chosen to not save humanity from sin. For He does not owe us a thing. But because He did choose to provide us a way out through Jesus Christ, is that not a testament of His perfect, undying love for us?

Why should we focus on all the things God has that we can't have instead of realizing all the things He has already given us in His great grace and love?

[blackjackkent]

I accidentally clicked on Jaheira and discovered she has follow-up dialogue about the Minsc reveal! How did I never think to check this with Hector?

This is actually a delightful (and feelsy) little conversation.

"The Counting House. More bastion than bank, I'm afraid. Minsc must have a way in, but he's never had much use for coin beyond whatever sharp steel it could buy."

(Rakha reflects that this seems to be yet another similarity between this Minsc and herself.)

"There must be something in the vaults the great Chosen are after," Jaheira continues thoughtfully. "All the more reason to get there - swiftly."

Perhaps a slightly pointed comment given that Rakha just got sidetracked in order to blow up a building full of Absolutists.

"So you do believe he's working for the cult?" Rakha asks.

"I have no reason to doubt the guildmaster's information," Jaheira says ruefully. "Only her conclusions. The Stone Lord she describes sounds nothing like Minsc. As for the name, well..." She frowns. "A bad joke, perhaps."

She snorts, seeing Rakha's evident puzzlement. "The Time of Troubles ended almost a century and a half ago. I weathered the years between with all the elven grace you have no doubt come to expect. But do you know how Minsc, a human, passed those years? I'll give you a hint - they named him the 'Beloved Ranger.'"

There's an expectant pause while Rakha searches her rotted-out memory for any record of these words. But there is nothing - beyond, of course, the beast's low-level grumbling of disgust and rage at the mention of Minsc's name.

Jaheira quirks an eyebrow. "No? It was a statue, dedicated to one of the city's lost heroes - only it *was* that hero. Minsc, frozen in stone for a century. And freed, the story goes, in the city's hour of need."

Rakha makes a thoughtful noise, digesting this. Curiosity takes over, subsuming the rage-instinct for a moment. "How could he have been stuck that way for a century?" she asks.

Jaheira grins sardonically. "Because who would question a statue to our friend, thinking Minsc of Rashemen had returned to a hero's welcome *in* Rashemen?"

The smile fades rapidly, replaced by a troubled expression that is tinged with guilt. "I don't even know how he was freed. Harper work would take me from the city - sometimes for years at a time. The few occasions I visited his monument, well... I took it as a moment for reflection. To think of old friends, and the fight I had to continue in their name." She clicks her tongue, waving a hand in frustration. "And during all my self-serious brooding, that big, dumb, *insufferable* buffoon was staring me in the face!"

Rakha nods slowly, following the story. "And you stared right back," she says pensively, "without even realizing it was him."

Jaheira laughs again, too sharply. "I did. On occasion, I even found myself critiquing the stonework. 'Surely his head was not so large as this?'"

She sighs, rubs at the bridge of her nose, and shakes her head. "I am not a particularly good friend," she mutters. "But I am his friend. And I cannot let Nine-Fingers have him."

Rakha watches as she turns away, and feels a flash of puzzlement.

Jaheira has known this Minsc for many years. She has fought battles with him. She describes him as someone like Rakha - capable of berserk rage and mad charges, addled and strange - but nevertheless she traveled with him, and no doubt gave him the same guidance she gives Rakha. She now drops everything to find him, to save him.

What reason can she possibly have to call herself a poor friend? What more could there possibly be than this?

[eternal-echoes]

“One aspect of ancient Greek philosophy that constituted a bridge to Catholic thought is the suggestion that there is a certain kind of life that befits a chimpanzee, and one that befits a human being. Possessed of reason, the human being is not condemned to act on mere instinct. He is capable of moral reflection, an ability that must always elude even the cleverest specimens of the animal kingdom. Should he fail to exercise this faculty, then he never lives up to his own nature. If he will not engage in intellectual activity or serious moral reckoning when it comes to his own behavior, then what is the point of his being human in the first place? If one's guiding principle is to do whatever brings immediate pleasure, one is in a sense no different from a beast.

The Church teaches that a life truly befitting humanity requires the assistance of divine grace. Even pagan Romans perceived something of the degraded condition of man: "What a contemptible thing is man," wrote Seneca, "if he fail to rise above the human condition!" The grace of God could help him do so. Here the Church has held out the examples of the saints, who demonstrate that lives of heroic virtue are possible when human beings let themselves decrease so that Christ may increase.

The Church teaches that a good life is not simply one in which our external actions are beyond reproach. Christ insists that it is not enough merely to refrain from murder or adultery; not only must the body not yield to such crimes, but the soul must also keep from leaning toward them. Not only should we not steal from our neighbor, but we should also not allow ourselves to indulge in envious thoughts about his possessions. Although we are certainly permitted to hate what is evil—sin, for example, or Satan himself—we are to divorce ourselves from the kind of anger and hatred that only corrode the soul. We are not only not to commit adultery, but we are also not to entertain impure thoughts, for to do so turns one of our fellow human beings into a thing, a mere object. Someone wishing to lead a good life should not want to make a fellow human being into a thing.

It has been said that to do anything well is difficult, and that living as a human being rather than as a beast is no exception. It requires moral seriousness and self-discipline. Socrates had famously said that knowledge was virtue, that to know the good was to do the good. Aristotle and St. Paul knew better, for we can all recall moments in our lives at which we knew perfectly well what the good was but did not do it, and likewise knew what was wrong but did do that. This is why Catholic spiritual directors instruct those under their charge to eat a carrot the next time we want a cupcake; not because cupcakes are evil, but because if we can get into the habit of disciplining our wills in cases in which no moral principle is at stake, then we shall be better prepared in the moment of temptation, when we are indeed faced with a choice between good and evil. And just as the more habituated we become to sin the easier further sin becomes, it is also true, as Aristotle observed, that virtuous living becomes ever easier the more we engage in it and the more it becomes a matter of habit.”

- Thomas E. Woods Jr., Ph.D., “The Church and Western Morality,” How the Catholic Church Built Western Civilization

[mercless]

the powder witch contemplates: ' y'ever wonder what it's like to die ? or maybe you know already , since you're so old and got whole libraries in your head . there's gotta've been stories of people like him , right ? died and came back ? they ever say what it's like ? ' a pause , quieter . ' must've not been so nice . if it had been , he'd talk more about it , right ? ' ' do demons like you even die ? sure go down , but — ' a wave of her hand , features pulling into grimace as she begins to regret having raised the topic to begin with . ' ... you know what i mean . ' @windchaser

Weary eyes watching that wavering horizon don't bother turning to the powder witch and her steed walking beside them. Her habit of musing any and everything on her mind was still taking the hellspawn some getting used to. But the deal that hung above them like a glinting blade on a sliver of thread - to be a guide and source of information to these fine folk looking to stop the inevitable - was one hell of a motivator to become quickly accustomed to this prolonged company. It isn't until Rell's words settle around them both, and the possibility they don't even grace her with a response arises, that Talon heaves a breath past their teeth. A tongue close behind the air brushes over the rows, attempting to dislodge that feather stuck in the back to little avail as their otherwise soundless march continues.

"'Libraries'… Bit of an exaggeration. I don't go lookin' for every poor souls story." An encyclopedia of tall tales, misquoted passages, and drunken ramblings felt more fitting a description for their collected knowledge. In their unbias, reliable opinion. "He's not the first gunslinger to ever return to the land of the living. Although, he's far from a revival like her intervention was..." A cough catches in their throat, but it's not long before their dry droll continues over the related tale. She could ask another time, if curiosity lingered.

"Death's been unreliable for a while now, but it wasn't ever the same for everyone either. I've seen it often enough to know what generally takes place." They decide to not state the obvious how, a small attempt to preserve the witch's current mood. Why would they care about such a thing… "When the souls left it's body, there's no more fear. No more joy or curiosity, no hunger for more. No more mortal woes."

"… Then there are those who don't go so quietly. Ghosts, cursed souls, those who've had their fate tampered with…"

A glance at the undead gunslinger bringing up the rear of their merry band is made over Talon's shoulder, giving away that the discussion was about him. It wouldn't be a surprise to Yone, though; when the young witch ever approached the demon, he was always in earshot. A hand ghosting a holster or sheath. "Our companion isn't one for many words, whether they be for recounting wonderous events, or hellish memories." A cant of their head lifts the wide brim of their hat enough for the two of them to meet the other's eye, if either of them wishes. The sun had fallen enough to not blind Talon, hiding behind the plated hindquarters of the metal beast keeping pace with them. There were plentiful reason for her to be on this doomed quest. They would like it to be revenge, but a nagging feeling of it not lasting as the sole reason dampens any potential fun. Something weak in their chest bemoans her to not give time to the thoughts of the beyond. But then, with everything so decayed around them, whatever else was there for a troubled mind to dwell on? "He has a reason for not movin' on. Maybe even he don't know it exactly. Could even change to something else he finds an' takes ahold of. Nothings gonna be gained if the truth is wrung out of him."

Blunt fingers scratch at the red scarf laid across their chest, trying to displace the sprouting growth tangling in the fabric's folds. Scraping the barrel on their knowledge of the beyond, and their half-baked hunches on the gunslinger, left only her last, uncomfortable question. A flash of teeth at the word 'down' was accidental, but the irony found in it pulled at blackened gums. Silently they wonder when they would see those caverns of endless torment and fire again, but it was something they could never share with a soul like hers. It's enough of an awakening from their ramblings to recall what their nature is. What they are. "Demons like me, don't go around kicking buckets." Talon's hunched posture straightens then, head turning over their shoulder as they speak clearly for everyone in the small posse.

"I'm sure you're both eager to find out what does happen, though."

[mwolf0epsilon]

Quarantine Programming

Pitch, sitting on one of the medbay cots: I can't believe they quarantined us... Sponge, looking at a datapad while sitting on another cot: We were exposed to a foreign contaminant. For the sake of the natborns, it's best we're confined to the medbay for now. Pitch: Yeah, I guess, but did it have to happen while Coric and Kix are on Kamino getting their medicals done? Sponge, still looking at the datapad: Would them being here make a difference? Pitch, watching them curiously: ... What are you looking at that's so interesting anyway? Sponge, turning the datapad to face Pitch: Beast Pageant live-stream. They're trying to decide who the 'face' of Bantha Beef Biscuits is gonna be for the next two or three years. I donno... Pitch, blinking slowly: ... Sponge: It's absolutely ridiculous. All these pompous folks in their Spgucci clown getups brought in what I can only hope isn't the modern standard for any of these creatures. Pitch, moving over to sit with Sponge since he has nothing better to do: Natborns are so weird. Sponge, gawking at the screen: Little gods look at that Voorpak... Pitch: Voorpak? What Voorpak, I only see a corded mop with six legs and bugged out eyes. Still better than whatever the hell that is right after it... Sponge: Pretty sure it's an Anooba with the world's worst cut and dye job known to sentient life. Pink is not that dog's color. Pitch: Is that a Barghest or a Blarth? Sponge: Look at the folds, I think it's a Cannok Beast. Or at least it's big and bald enough to be one... Pitch: ... Why do rich people get the most inbred looking horrors as pets? There's no way that Massiff can breathe with that short of a snout... Sponge: No idea. These are apparently all specially bred for beauty, and professionally groomed. Pitch: Beau has them all beat and she's not even trying. Sponge: My girl is just that talented and naturally graceful. Beautiful, asleep on her back and completely splayed out with her jowls drooping over her face in the most graceless way possible, while also snoring and drooling all over herself: Sponge: 100/10 stars, bestest girl in town. Pitch: Absolutely.

[radioiaci]

o-ho, are we talking about how our Alastors function (or don't) in relationships??? let me REGALE YOU with my own characterization!

Alastor's perception of love is skewed - he wants to bury himself in someone's blood, nestle in their rib cage, and make himself a permanent installation. Bites with teeth and claws are how he expresses affection - and if someone allows him to cut them open and possibly consume a part of them, that's all the better. He sees this sort of intimacy as the quintessential means of expressing a dedication to someone; a desire to be one with them. He is not INCAPABLE of expressing physical affection otherwise - he can grow accustomed to it with certain individuals after a while and some dedication on their end of slowly, patiently breaking down his outer walls. But it's not wholly necessary to him; he'll do it if it means keeping himself in someone's good graces, but it does not always come natural to him to initiate or suggest it, up to and including sex. If someone is pushy about either of those things, however, he may find himself recoiling and pulling away, especially if those are the ONLY things that individual wants as a means of him showing that he cares. It's too vapid for him to see the value and he'll eventually divorce himself of someone if that is the only thing they want from him. But his biggest deterrent to getting involved with an individual is a fear of disappointment. Stemming from his mother's rejection of him after she discovered his killings, (she looked at him as though he was broken and wrong) he knows that he is tilted and his perception of affection/love/intimacy is just as tilted. As a result, he knows that there are precious few individuals in the world that can contend with that and see him for what he truly is and ACCEPT him anyway without seeing a desire to FIX or CHANGE him. He does not want to change. He wants to be SEEN for who and what he is/has become. And he wants that person to embrace him even with that knowledge. But if he tries to open himself up to that possibility and that individual expresses that he is not living up to whatever expectation of him that they have painted in their head - he gets frustrated and upset. And he will absolutely move on from that individual and push them away as a result. (This is what ultimately led him to reject Vox despite his feelings for the man. He could only foresee disappointment, and so he had to sever the tie sooner rather than later.) His hyper-sensitive skin - scarred up as it is - is both painful and touch-starved, leading to a really fucked up dichotomy of feelings that he's not sure how to appease/soothe. Someone has to be very understanding of how he perceives and processes touches to different parts of himself. If they cannot, then he will not allow them to get close enough to touch. Alastor does not seek relationships with all of these potential obstacles existing that keep him from wanting to. He does not feel like he explicitly needs them. As such, he falls under the umbrella of aromantic/asexual - but for a partner that he trusts to See him as his true self: the eldritch beast that he is, he will do his best to give what he can. But he will still always fear that it's not enough.