#she is a nature destroyer

[maclanahan--mermaid-comics]

Finished 'Metroid: Samus Returns' and really liked the little underwater egg creatures.

Pose reference by @theposearchives mermaid pack!

[kalki-tarot]

Deities in Hinduism 🛕

Hinduism is the largest religion in the Indian subcontinent, and the third largest religion in the world. Hinduism has been called the "oldest religion" in the world, and many practitioners refer to Hinduism as "the eternal law" (Sanātana Dharma). The faith is described by some to be monotheistic, where all deities are believed to be forms of Brahman, the Ultimate Reality, as popularised by the Advaita philosophy.

"A Hindu can choose to be polytheistic, pantheistic, monotheistic, monistic, even agnostic, atheistic, or humanist."

1. Lord Vishnu

Vishnu is the god of Preservation, the great maintainer who often appears in various incarnations (avatara) to provide salvation for humanity. Some of his best-known avatars, who are tremendously popular and beloved throughout Hindu India, are the gods Krishna and Rama.

2. Lord Shiva

Shiva holds one of the most prominent roles in Hinduism as the god of destruction. He is one of the three most important gods, alongside Brahma (the creator) and Vishnu (the preserver). The sect of Shaivism holds that Shiva is the Supreme Being which all other gods are aspects of.

3. Maa Kali

Kali is the Hindu goddess of death and rebirth, she expresses the dual nature of the destruction that must come before new beginnings, and of the strength of the female power which can sometimes do what the man cannot. She is also the goddess of time.

4. Maa Durga

Durga, goddess of Shakti - the divine positive feminine energy and focus of festival celebrations. This very elegant bronze figure of Devi (goddess) Durga - is an attractive and prominent figure and a principal deity in Hinduism.

5. Lord Ganesha

He is widely revered, more specifically, as the remover of obstacles and bringer of good luck; the patron of arts and sciences; and the deva of intellect and wisdom. As the god of beginnings, he is honoured at the start of rites and ceremonies

6. Maa Saraswati

Saraswati is the Hindu goddess of knowledge. She is associated with wisdom, music, art, and learning. She is one of the three main goddesses of Hinduism, along with Lakshmi and Parvati. Together the three goddesses are called the Tridevi.

7. Maa Lakshmi

Lakshmi is the Hindu goddess of wealth, good fortune, happiness, youth, and beauty. She is the wife of Vishnu, the god that sustains the universe; he makes sure the universe stays together while Shiva, the destroyer, rips it apart.

[comewithmeintothedeep]

Fem!Reader X Male Red Half-Dragon

Sequel to: Here. Word Count: 10,397 Explicit: Yes. Warnings: Size difference, breeding, marathon sex, somnophilia.

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It was borderline unheard of for a queen to rule a kingdom unanimously without a king. News of the usurpation spread quickly throughout the surrounding kingdoms, the Red Queen making her presence known once she took the throne from King Frederick by force and changed the kingdom completely. You remembered the fear in your father when he heard of King Frederick’s death.

Rumours spread quickly. They say that the Red Queen made a pact with Ammar, the Red Dragon, destroyer of kingdoms, and bringer of fire and death. Ever since you were a young child, your father, the king of the Kingdom by the Sea, became overly protective of you. He forbade you to accompany him to any of his meetings with the Red Queen, but he always returned…perplexed? Angry? You couldn’t say for certain.

Either way, he always seemed confused and it upset him greatly. You could always hear him shouting in his study or muttering under his breath about some sort of trick, some sort of deception. A woman who would murder her own queen and fraternize with an evil Red Dragon could never truly be kind or courteous. That it was some sort of plot to undermine him and the other kingdoms.

Rumours of her connections to Ammar were only confirmed by the announcement of the Red Queen’s son, Prince Balmorn – a Red Half-Dragon.

Your father only grew more overprotective despite your growing curiosity. You were the princess, didn’t you deserve to know what was going on in your neighbouring kingdoms? Shouldn’t you have a say in interkingdom relations? Even now, as an adult, your father still forbade you from any business involving the Kingdom of the Red Mountain…until one fateful day when your father, brows furrowed and jaw set, met you with a most peculiar proposal.

One you would not have expected in all of your wildest fantasies. “The Red Queen and I have made an arrangement – you are going to marry her son, Prince Balmorn.”

You weren’t outraged, exactly. More than anything, you wanted to meet with the Red Queen and see for yourself why your father was so apprehensive when it came to her. But why marriage…and why now? Your father had always kept you away from most other children when you were young, the only other children you were allowed to meet were the children of other nobles or royalty from other kingdoms. Your father even said that it was likely you would marry one of them.

So why the Prince of the Kingdom of the Red Mountain? Why the son of the Red Queen? “Father, you have always been suspicious of the intentions of the Red Queen. Why marry me into her family?”

“I’m still suspicious, (Name).” Your father promptly reminded you, lips curled into a sneer. “But I’m no closer to figuring out her secrets or discovering that witch’s true motives or her plans…but she was curious about you, and she made a proposition. Our kingdoms would be united through your marriage to her son, Balmorn. But I know this is a trick.”

You tilted your head. Your father had always gone on and on about how everything the Red Queen did was a trick, but he was never able to procure any evidence to his claims. All he ever did was cast suspicion on her acts of good will, but to your knowledge, the Red Queen never made any threats to the other kingdoms nor did she act in a way you would consider to be duplicitous, at least from the accounts the nobles in the other surrounding kingdoms gave. So far, there was nothing to denote that your father was right about any of it being some kind of deception.

Naturally, you had your own reservations about marrying Prince Balmorn – you hardly knew each other, on account of your father forbidding you to accompany him to his meetings with the Red Queen.

Your father, however, was quick to reassure you. “That’s why I want you to marry her son.” He stated, shoulders square and head raised, crown glinting in the light of the sun, the sounds of the sea lapping on the nearby shore cascading into your ears as he spoke, the familiarity of home like a comforting blanket draped across your shoulders. “I want you to earn the Red Queen’s trust and discover her secrets within. I want you to discover what precisely her schemes truly are and report back to me once you do. And once you discover her true treachery, I want you to end both the prince and the queen’s lives.”

Audibly, you gasped, rising from your seat and raising your voice with a defiant tone towards your father. The king though he may be, had never asked nor demanded anything like this of you before and you didn’t have even the slightest idea how he thought you could do such a thing. “Father, I’m not trained in the art of skullduggery. I’m not a violent person. What makes you think I could accomplish this?”

“You will because I am asking you to.” Your father said sternly, sighing heavily as he took his crown off of it head and laid it in his lap, taking a seat in his throne. “The Red Queen is dangerous. Every day that her true intentions are a mystery is a day that the threat of her and that monstrous dragon hangs over our heads. She won’t even grant her name to us, insisting that we call her only by her title. Not even her knights, guards, or citizens know her name and even if they do not it, they will not speak it. A queen who rules alone with secrets held that closely cannot be trusted…I’m asking you to protect our kingdom.”

The fear of the unknown was a powerful one. Humans were not immune to it, truly. Your father was seemingly no exception, but you would be lying if you said you were not uneasy with the prospect of meeting the Red Queen and marrying her son. But it was not because of anything your father told you, but because these people were effectively strangers to you. You were never allowed to form your own judge of character about them because your father never allowed you to.

And, that was before asking the most obvious question. “And what if you’re wrong, father?”

Your question was met with a sharp glare, your father’s head lowering as he growled under his breath. “I am not wrong. A woman with secrets held that closely is dangerous and it’s only a matter of time before the knife in her sleeve is brandished and used to cut all of our throats.” He replied without yielding, reaching down to take his crown and place it back upon his head, staring you down. “It is why your mother no longer graces our palace with her presence.”

Right…your mother. Your father had told you that your mother had attempted to kill him in his sleep one night. Your father claimed she wanted sole claim to the throne, but the idea just didn’t make sense to you. Not from what you remembered of her.

But you accepted your role. If your father willed it, it was what needed to happen. And if he was wrong, then no harm would come to him or your kingdom and he would have nothing to be concerned about

Though…somehow…you couldn’t be entirely sure of that.

The carriage ride to the Kingdom of the Red Mountain was a long and anxious one, anticipation causing you to practically rattle in your draperies. You weren’t afraid of the Red Queen nor her son, but your fathers worries echoed in your head. You weren’t so sure you could go through with what he asked of you, even if he was right.

But he was so sure that because you weren’t the woman your mother was that you could. You had no idea how that made any sense, so you simply put the thought away and focused on rehearsing your manners and pleasantries. You didn’t want to make a poor first impression, after all.

Once you promptly arrived in the kingdom, the Red Queen was the first to greet you, her knights standing at attention and opening the door to your carriage, allowing you to step down and offering a hand for you to take, of which you accepted out of politeness.

Facing the Red Queen had you…surprised. She did not wear lavish draperies nor expensive jewelry, nor did she seem to carry herself any higher than her knights. The only remotely expensive thing she wore was her crown. She did wear a suit of armour, but it didn’t look any different from that which the knights wore.

You remember your father mentioning that King Frederick’s throne was usurped by one of his knights.

And off by her side was a large humanoid Red Half-Dragon, tough scales practically glowing like rubies in the light of the summer day, eyes glowing a burning amber as fierce as a raging hot fire. His horns curled gracefully behind his head, though the fins protruding from behind his head seemed flattened against him. What struck you as particularly odd was that this had to be Prince Balmorn, yes? So why did he seem so…meek? His head was ducked, wings resting on his shoulders like a cape, and his tail was curled around his feet. He even refused to meet your gaze.

Was he…nervous? Well, I suppose the feeling is mutual, then. Clearing your throat, you bowed and performed a curtsy as was customary when greeting royalty, head lowered to show respect to the Red Queen. “Your Majesty,” you said with a pleasant tinge of honey to your voice, “I’ve been anxious to meet you for some time.”

To your surprise, the Red Queen put up a hand and shook her head at you. “No, please. You do not have to bow to me. You are Princess (Name), yes?” She said, encouraging you to stand tall once again, which you did. You did not want to disrespect her in her own kingdom, after all. “I’ve been just as eager to meet you, but your father, King Richter, has been adamant in not taking you with him to meet with us. I was quite surprised to hear he accepted my proposal for you and my son to marry.”

“Yes…quite surprised.” Prince Balmorn spoke, voice low and unsure as he tucked himself a bit lower, still attempting to avoid your gaze. Even when he was trying to appear smaller, it was clear he was much bigger than his mother.

You nodded in agreement as you walked up, approaching her. Your father was so suspicious of her, but you could sense no trace of malice from the Red Queen, nor her son. In-fact, he seemed more afraid of you than you were of him. How odd. “I was rather surprised, too. But I understand that it would be advantageous for our kingdoms to be united by marriage, given outside threats to our kingdoms across the mountain pass.”

“Yes, it would be advantageous to be united as one, especially given your father’s famous naval fleets.” The Red Queen said plainly before shaking her head. “However, this agreement is not binding. It would be a blessing for you and my son to be wed, but if the both of you don’t find the arrangement agreeable, I will not force it and I will send you back home to your father and we can negotiate some other avenue for unification.”

Finally, Balmorn nodded and met your gaze properly, standing up straight and squaring his shoulders. Stepping forward, he knelt onto the ground, looking up at you as he gently took your hand in his. Your heart was beating in your chest once his scaly claws met yours, his rough, yet polished scales against your skin and his talons grazing it. Yet, he handled you so delicately, keeping his claws carefully tucked so that he would not hurt you by accident. You could even feel him tremble as he brought your hand to his snout, placing a tender kiss on the back of it.

You did not expect his lips to be so soft when they met your skin, but they felt warm. “I would hate for us to be bound in a state of dislike. Her Majesty emphasizes that a marriage should come with mutual respect and…an appreciation for each other’s company.”

That caught your ear, and you could not help but tilt your head. “Not love?”

The fins on the sides of Balmorn’s head twitched at your words, a hint of warm amusement behind his amber eyes, slitted pupils rounding ever so slightly when he gazed up at you. “Love is…most ideal.” He replied, rising up to stand, gazing down at you. A small smile tugged at his lips, creasing his maw as he took in your features. You were smaller than his mother, which meant you were very small compared to him. Even the thought of handling you made him feel anxious. Too harsh or too rough, even by accident, and he could break you. You were not a knight like his mother, nor were you raised among the common folk.

No, you were a delicate flower. Though he never attended meetings between your father and his mother, he could hear clear as day that he treated you as such. That he thought you were too fragile to be in the presence of the Red Queen and her son. Of course, King Richter never said as such, but it was what Balmorn could discern through the veiled meanings and subtext your father often spoke in.

It was something that quietly irritated the Red Half-Dragon. His mother spoke plainly and openly, never veiled, and yet King Richter always hid his intentions behind secret meanings and coded language. A dishonest man…it was what had him so anxious to meet you.

That didn’t mean he held any ill will towards you. If anything, it only motivated Balmorn to show you his true nature, that he truly harboured no desire to harm you or anyone. “But sometimes marriage doesn’t come with love and I cannot expect that from you.” He admitted, ducking his head a bit and glancing down at his feet. “I don’t want us to marry if you dislike me. I could never forgive myself if that happened. So, instead, the best I can hope for is that…you like me and…enjoy my company, at the very least.”

You did not expect the Red Prince to be so meek, but you supposed it was a pleasant surprise. This was the man your father was so afraid of? It was somehow both shocking…and unsurprising.

Allowing him to continue holding your hand in his, the Red Queen cleared her throat to get both your attention and nodded. “Well, now that we’ve made ourselves acquainted, why don’t I show you to where you will be staying and we can become more familiar with each other over dinner this evening?”

Nodding in agreement, you allowed the Red Queen, Prince Balmorn, and her guard to escort you to the palace. Though, once you arrived at the palace, the guard simply returned to their posts, allowing you to be mostly alone with the royal family of the Kingdom of the Red Mountain.

Your bedchambers were quite comfortable. It was much more modest compared to your own, but you didn’t actually mind that so much. You got the sense that nothing in here was meant to be superfluous or opulent. Everything here was meant to be comfortable. You had your bedchamber and then a lavatory through a door within your bedchamber.

One thing you noticed was that though the bedsheets weren’t expensive, they were incredibly comfortable and clearly well-tended to. It was evident that the Red Queen cared very much about her guests’ comfort. Your clothes almost seemed excessively gaudy compared to all of this.

Dinner went quite amicably, the cook attempting to be conscientious of your more expensive tastes, but quite honestly, you were more curious about what the actual local cuisine was. You were surprised to be greeted with something like a stew. Though it didn’t look too fancy, it was immensely flavourful and quite filling.

The Red Queen was naturally interested in your upbringing, given that throughout all of her dealing with King Richter, she knew next to nothing about you. Balmorn, of course, was curious about you as well. And, naturally, you couldn’t help but be curious about him, too. As he spoke about himself, his muted and more demure demeanour began to make sense.

Naturally, as the son of the Red Dragon, Ammar, and the kingdom’s new queen, the people were skeptical of him. Some still were left uneasy by Balmorn’s status as the prince. But, as the people grew used to the new rule, the majority got used to Balmorn as well.

And when the Red Queen gave you a proper tour of the Kingdom of the Red Mountain, you immediately began to understand why. The people’s spirits were bright, they greeted the Red Queen eagerly like she was an old friend, like she was one of the townsfolk. Given that she was a knight before she was a queen, that was likely true.

But what struck you was that none of the people lived in squalor. None of the people’s homes had holes in their rooves, none of the people’s clothes were ragged or torn, and none of the people seemed to struggle to eat or make a living. Indeed, none of the people seemed to be left behind.

It was a stark difference between the Red Queen’s kingdom and your father’s kingdom. The difference between the nobility and ruling class as compared to the common folk was…glaringly obvious, even when you were a child. Though your home was the palace, it wasn’t hard to see the state of things from your tower window as a child.

The days were quite pleasant as you spent your time with the Red Queen and her son – your fiancé, you supposed. However, it was not only them that you spent your time with. Your sheltered life led your inclinations towards the common people and the people who worked for the palace. It was quite easy to get to know the people as they were quite eager to share.

They could tell you were a bit out of your element and treated you quickly with kindness. The cook that made the food for the Red Queen and the knights was eager to share her family life with you. The food she made was often the favourites of her children when they grew up, and it was well liked by those that inhabited the palace and those who came to the palace gates to take what was left.

The cook was very quick to tell you that any food that was left was given to the townspeople to share. Thus, she always made a little more than was necessary so that more of the townspeople could have a hearty and healthy meal.

The townspeople remarked often about how young you were, and thus commented that you were probably too young to remember the scourge of Ammar. You replied that your father often frightened you with stories of the Red Dragon when you were a little girl, but the people here actively lived those nightmares for a very long time through the generations.

It was not until the Red Queen took over the kingdom that the people no longer feared the shadow of the Red Dragon over their heads. And it was now that they did not have to fear losing their homes or means to live, thanks to being freed from the rule of King Frederick.

That struck you as odd. Your father had always said that King Frederick was a good man, but every time his name was uttered by the people, the life would die out in the conversation and they were rather quick to change the subject.

You wanted to know more, but you weren’t sure who to ask. Though, your father did say your mission was to discover their secrets.

So, you asked, attempting to ask in a veiled way as to not give yourself away as a potential spy. However, the Red Queen knew what you really wanted to know right away, and to your surprise, she was not only unoffended, but quite quick to tell you her story.

The version of King Frederick that the Red Queen spoke of was not the one your father had told you. The King Frederick that the Red Queen spoke of was nothing short of a tyrant who bled his people dry, sent them to die in a battle they could not win, and executed those who survived to fight another day.

And that was only in his kingdom. The Red Queen was quick to pull out a map of the kingdoms King Frederick had conquered. She had wondered why the other kingdoms seemed amicable with the Red Queen while her father constantly distrusted her – the nobility of the other kingdoms had their power restored by the Red Queen after King Frederick had conquered them.

You had to wonder what kingdoms your father had conquered in much the same way for him to still hold King Frederick in such high regard. Come to think of it, you remembered arguments between your father and the other nobles when he thought you were asleep at night…perhaps that had something to do with it.

The Red Queen told you of how the Red Dragon Ammar had spared her to teach her a lesson about her own kingdom and her own king, as well as a lesson in what it truly meant to slay a monster. And…his attempt to force her to marry him in exchange for her life.

You couldn’t help but wilt. It was no wonder she was so adamant about your choice in this arrangement with her son…and you had to admit, you had found him quite pleasant, thus far. Throughout the week, he often presented you with small gifts, things that you either told him you liked or things he overheard you speak of. Or even small things that reminded him of you.

Something of a small hoard began to accumulate in your bedchambers. The dresser was the perfect space to display the trinkets Balmorn found for you. You never thought of a hoard as something that could be so sentimental, but seeing it all together changed your opinion of dragons in a small way.

The Red Queen finally told you the end of her story – how she took the kingdom and the throne from King Frederick for herself to free her people and the Blazing Star made a proposal to her – marriage, not unlike the proposal the Red Queen made to you and her son. And, just like with you, Ammar made it clear that the choice was hers whether or not she wanted to pursue peace through marriage and begetting a child or through some other avenue, and the Red Queen chose marriage.

So, the Red Dragon now protected the kingdoms that were under King Frederick’s rule. Now you knew why your father was so anxious about the lack of activity from the Red Dragon and the Red Queen’s dealings with him. And why the Red Queen proposed marriage.

If their kingdoms were united through marriage, there was no risk of them being at odds and your kingdom would be under the Firewyrm’s protection as well. But if not, and for whatever reason your father decided to attack the Red Queen and the kingdoms she was allied with…the Red Dragon would not take kindly to such an offense.

There was no doubt that there was a reason to fear the Red Dragon…but the Red Queen was nothing but kind to you since you arrived and given how highly her own people and even people affiliated with her spoke about her, you were inclined to believe her.

At the end of the week, the Red Queen announced her departure from the kingdom, leaving it in the care of the captain of her knights. She needed to converse with her husband at the top of the mountain where he dwelled and she trusted her knights to keep a careful watch and guard over you. So, you took this opportunity to spend some alone time with Balmorn.

It was easy to approach him. He often spent his time in the palace garden, tending to the flowers, there. Though, you noticed that he paid special attention to the flowers you pointed out were your favourite since you told him – Salvias, specifically the blue variety.

And once again, that was where you found him. He knew your presence immediately. You made no effort to hide yourself and your presence was warm and welcome to him. And he knew that his questions were not unwelcome. “What’s it like by the sea?”

Blinking, you tilted your head at him as you approached, putting a hand on his powerful shoulder. “You’ve never been?”

“No. I’ve never been outside of this city.” Balmorn replied, a hint of solemn sadness to his tone of voice as he answered. “My mother thought I would be…safer if I stayed in the city, at least until I could prove I could establish myself. Both to my mother and my father.”

You were glad that Balmorn had grown comfortable enough around you to stop referring to his parents by formal titles, at least when it was just you two.

Sitting next to him, you leaned against his side. You didn’t know a lot about his past, but his nature told you a lot about who he was. He was sensitive, careful, and incredibly considerate, always putting your comfort first. He paid close attention to not only what you liked, but what you disliked. Indeed, it seemed his first priority was ensuring you never felt unsafe, uncomfortable, or even like you were disliked.

In-fact, that was one of the first things you noticed. He seemed to like you very much and you didn’t have to perform for him. He was to be your husband, after all, and at this point, the Red Queen was going to be your mother-in-law. The thought made you feel…comforted. It had been a long time since you could call anyone a mother. It felt…nice. “It’s…cool.” You replied, taking in a deep breath and remembering the time you spent on the seaside as a child. “The ocean breeze against your face, the sun on your face…the soft and warm sand beneath your feet. The smell of the ocean isn’t like anything else.”

Balmorn hummed at your answer. It was hard for him to picture, but it sounded lovely. He hoped he would be able to see it, someday. Though…he wasn’t sure your father would be happy to see him with you on his doorstep. That led him to his next question, since his mother was going up to convene with his father. “What’s…your father like?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean you’ve never met him?”

“No. I’ve overheard his meetings with my mother, but I’ve never attended.” Balmorn replied, throat rumbling as he tried not to let his displeasure for the man be too obvious. “I had a feeling we…wouldn’t get along.”

“From the way he speaks of you, he makes you sound like some creature dragged in from the streets.” You confessed, your walls down after you spent so much time with him. The prince looked a bit wounded, his fins drooping sadly and eyes glittering with disappointment. Though…he didn’t seem surprised. “He…always made it sound like he’d seen you, at the least.”

Balmorn shook his head. “No…not once. Not in-person, anyway.”

Regarding him for a moment, you sighed through your nose. You were sure there was no way to fake the deep sadness and disappointment he seemed to feel in that moment. The way his shoulders sagged and his hands fell in his lap…your heart ached.

You put your hand on his, having grown used to the texture of his scales and his claws. Glancing down at you, his tail then curled around you, pulling you closer to him, draping his wing over your shoulders. The warmth he gave off was comforting. You were almost tempted to fall asleep like this. “My father is…a cautious man.” You admitted, seeing no reason to hide your secrets, given how open both Balmorn and his mother have been about theirs. Even calling them ‘secrets’ was a bit misleading – they were so open about their pasts that they weren’t even really secrets at all.

It was even common knowledge to the common folk in this city. “He refuses to believe in the kindness my mother has consistently shown him.” Balmorn pointed out, a small nervous laugh behind his words as he spoke to you.

“He’s convinced that your mother’s hiding some sort of nefarious secret, that she has plans to conquer him and that her kindness is a front.” You continued to admit, laughing yourself. It was only now after you had spent some time away from your father that you realized just how ridiculous he had been about all of this. “He simply refuses to believe that any of her kindness is genuine and that her secrets make her dangerous.”

Laughing more light-heartedly, Balmorn let out a small ember through his snout as he snickered, utterly beside himself. “If your father refuses to believe anything my mother says is the truth, I can see why he would think we’re hiding something.” He replied, the corners of his mouth tugged up by his eyes creased with laugh lines even underneath his scarlet scales. “Such a shame he lives his life that way…I can’t imagine he has many genuine allies if he believes that transparency is a farce.”

You nodded in agreement, sinking into his muscled arm. Your other hand held onto his tail that was draped over your lap. You felt him rest his chin on your head and felt his chest heave with every breath. Another thing you noticed was how affectionate he was towards you, at least away from prying eyes. Never enough to make you uncomfortable or to seem like he was claiming you, but enough to make you feel like your company was liked.

Though, you couldn’t help also being curious about him and his upbringing. “What’s your father like?”

Fins twitching in response to your question, Balmorn hummed as he contemplated it. It was very difficult to describe his father…but he supposed he should try. After all, you did when he asked about your father. “Tired…” Was his response, looking up towards the mountain where his father lived. “Larger than life…intimidating…older than old…aging gracefully. He wasn’t involved much in raising me, that burden fell to my mother. Though, his expectations of me can be…heavy to carry.”

Looking up at him, you furrowed your eyebrows. People seldom spoke of Ammar as an individual, mostly seeing him as a presence. The Red Queen and Prince Balmorn were the only people who knew him as anything more than that. “What sorts of expectations?”

Humming, Balmorn softly nuzzled you with his chin, softly putting his arm around you, leading you to sit in his lap between his legs and only persisting once he was sure you were allowing it, wrapping around you for comfort. “I am…not my father.” He said quietly. “I have no desire to own land. I have no desire for great riches. I have no desire for great battles or to rule kingdoms. I am not the heir to my father’s legacy, but my mother’s. He always knew that…and I don’t think he begrudges me for it, but…sometimes I can sense that he regards me with…something like disappointment.”

Glancing up at him, you craned your head to regard him closely. His words rang true and more than anything…you wanted to know who he was rather than who he was not. “And…what do you want?” You asked.

Meeting your gaze, amber eyes glowing with an affectionate warmth towards you, he smiled. “I want…to care for the land.” He stated, his chest burning deeply with something he couldn’t quite describe. “I want to make maps. I want to travel and know more than this. I want to plant gardens and create new life. I want to write stories, paint pictures. I want to do more than just own, I want to give to the world.”

Then, his gaze burned hotter when he looked at you. Before you arrived, he wasn’t entirely sure about you. He wasn’t sure if marriage to you was what he truly wanted. You seemed pleasant, and he didn’t want you to be afraid of him. He wanted to like you, at the least, and he did.

He liked you very much.

Gently tracing his claws along your jawline, he held your face tenderly in his rough hands, his smile soft as he gazed down at your delicate beauty. How a human could seem so…harmless, yet so hauntingly beautiful he would never know. Was this how his father felt about his mother? He dared not ask.

He knew what he wanted…now more than he ever did, before. “And…perhaps selfishly – please forgive me for this…” He swallowed before making his proclamation clear, tilting his head as you followed his gaze. “I want you, (Name). You’ve been…kind, patient, and understanding. But you were never afraid of me…I never had that.”

Every sincere word that tumbled out of his lips made you feel guilty. You knew what your father wanted from you and you knew you couldn’t do it. You never could, but now being faced with the possibility that your father would expect you to murder this man, your future husband and mother-in-law?

You couldn’t do it…and you owed it to him for him to know the truth. He had been so forthcoming to you thus far…it was what he deserved. “Wait…Balmorn, I…have something I must confess.” You interrupted shakily, taking a deep breath. The Red Half-Dragon pulled back a bit, giving you space to collect your thoughts and say what you needed to say. His face betrayed only concern and worry for you, and that just made this more painful to admit to.

But…he needed to know. He needed to know the pretenses upon which you were here. “My father…the reason he agreed to this…was because he believed I could learn your and your mother’s secrets…and…” It was so difficult for you to admit to out loud, but you needed to…you needed to no matter what. If you were going to be married, you needed full transparency with one another. “My father told me…to kill the both of you once I learned. But I could never go through with it, that’s not who I am! I’m not…dishonest. I’m not violent…I could never do such a thing…”

You couldn’t meet Balmorn’s gaze, fearful that his sweetness and his kindness and gentleness would fade away. Truthfully, you were afraid – afraid that your father had been right all along and you would meet your fate, here. “I can…understand if you don’t want to marry me, knowing that. But you deserved to know –”

Pulling your face towards his, claws still as gentle as they had always been, he traced your chin, tilting your head up towards him. His lips were merely a breath away, his eyes on yours. There was a heat behind them you hadn’t seen, before, and for a moment you were afraid he was angry with you.

But instead…his voice was gentler than you had ever heard it, before. “I know you would never hurt me…” He murmured, thumb softly tracing your bottom lip before he softly pressed his snout against your nose. “Thank you for telling me, (Name). I trust you…”

Before you could even realize what was happening, he pulled you close, lips pressed against yours as he gingerly kissed you. You gasped through your nose, eyelids falling closed as you sunk into it. His lips were very warm and inviting and he smelled pleasantly like a bonfire. The half-dragon didn’t dare move to elevate the kiss, letting you be free to pull away if you wished.

You didn’t move. Instinct, instead, pushed you to climb further into his lap, seated down comfortably on it as you grabbed his head and tilted it, deepening the kiss and feeling him rumble from within his chest. You had no idea what propelled you to continue like this, but tender turned heated as breaths turned heavy and grip turned firm. You could feel him grow hard from between your legs and when he pressed against you, you whimpered at the sensation you had never felt, before.

Balmorn’s hands grabbed hurriedly at your rear as he pulled you against him, you grinding down against him in response. You were holding onto his horns as you had opened your mouth to let him in, his long tongue filling your mouth and almost tempted to reach down your throat.

When he pulled away, fearful for your sense of safety and comfort, his breaths were heavy, mouth hanging open as he drank you in. His deepest instincts demanded that he make you his mate right then and there, breed you in that garden and fill you with wyrmlings that belonged to him.

But he would not do so. His mother taught him better than to follow his baser instincts like that. No, he didn’t even have the first idea whether or not you were even a virgin. He had to be gentle with you, ease you into this.

And the first thing he needed to do…was make sure you really and truly wanted this. “Should we…continue this in the privacy of my bedchambers?”

Just as short of breath and feeling unbearably warm, you nodded, arms wrapped around his neck. You had never felt anything like this, before, and you were sure you would never feel this way about anyone. Whatever your father said about your union, you didn’t care. Balmorn’s heart was pure and you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

You wanted to be his wife. You wanted him to be your husband.

And – right now, more than anything – you wanted him to deflower you. “Please, my prince…” You purred, meaning that now and truly.

Groaning lowly, Balmorn’s rough clawed hands were on you, hoisting you up and carrying you bridal style in his arms, wings flared open as he lifted off from the ground and flew up. You had never flown before, so you naturally clung to him, knowing that he wouldn’t dare drop you.

He carried you up and up and up, to the highest room in the tallest tower of the palace. Lighting down on the balcony, he opened its doors and carried you inside of his bedchambers, closing the door behind him and locking them promptly. You had never seen so much red, before, and it was a deep wine red. In his room, a pile of treasures was haphazardly kept in the corner of the room, a nest made of comfortable and worn blanket and pillows taking the place of a bed just across from a fireplace that was not lit.

Until Balmorn set you down in his nest and turned away, leaning forward and blowing a flame into the fireplace, taking the poker to stoke it before closing it promptly, letting its warmth and its light fill the room. All of the curtains were drawn and the only other door into this place was closed and seemingly locked.

You looked up at him, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. “No one will interrupt us, right?”

“No.” Balmorn replied gruffly, shaking his head. “The only way that leads to my chambers is from the lower levels. There are secret passages along the stairwell if I need to get somewhere quickly, but only I and my mother know them. No one else. So we will not be bothered unless it’s truly important.”

Nodding at him, you sighed shakily. You supposed that made sense, but this sudden domineering attitude was…unexpected. And it made you uneasy. “So…what happens now?”

Raising an eyebrow at you and seeing how you curled in on yourself, Balmorn took in a breath and let it out, trying to calm himself down so that he would not accidentally hurt or frighten you. After all, you may be his bride-to-be, but you were only human.

You were still fragile…he needed to be careful with you. “Now,” he said, wings flared as his tail began to swing languidly back and forth as he approached you, broad shoulders making him appear even larger as he leaned over you, arms propping him up on either side of you as he gazed down at you with eyes that blazed brightly in the dim light of his room, “I make love to you.”

Your heart practically leaped into your chest when he said that in such a low and husky tone. You had never felt anything like this, never felt so…desired. You whimpered when he leaned in, pressing his chest against you as his snout buried itself into your neck, the half-dragon deeply inhaling your unique scent of sea breeze.

The moment your arms threw themselves around him, Balmorn had to fight every instinct not to bury himself in you right then and there. He was a prince and you were a princess. He needed to conduct himself with manners. You were to be his wife, for gods’ sake.

Restraining himself, he pulled back, gazing down at you with all the affection in the world, admiring your flushed cheeks and the way your eyelids fluttered at him. He felt like his heart would stop if he looked at you any longer, but he needed to persist. For your sake. “I must ask…for your sake, my dear: you do want this, yes? You want me? You want me to bed you? To mate you? To make love to you?”

Smiling softly at his meekness coming back just to ensure you were safe and comfortable, you giggled sweetly at him, putting a finger up to silence him and reassure you. “I wouldn’t allow anyone else but you to deflower me, Prince Balmorn.” You said, holding his draconic face in your hands as you pressed your forehead to his, basking in the tender intimacy of this for the moment while you had it. It was necessary…to take a moment to bask in the warmth before it became an all-consuming blaze. “So yes, I want you to make love to me. I want you to claim me as yours. I want to be your wife. I want to have sex with you and I want to marry you and share our lives and our kingdoms together.

“And most importantly…I want to show you the sea, someday.” You added with a cheeky grin.

Laughing a little, you could hear a deep rumble in his throat as he pressed himself into your touch, Balmorn practically melting into you. You had never felt him be this pliant and relaxed, but he still had himself propped up on his elbows. It was then that you could hear him start to growl, his maw right by your ear as his hot breath rolled over your sensitive skin. “Then…I have one last question, my princess…” He hissed, claws tugging at your clothes as he practically pawed at them. “Do you care about these rags?”

Chuckling at his impatience, you gently stroked at the scales on the back of his head and shook yours. “No. Tear them off, if you wish…they’re not important to me.”

With a low hungry bellow, Balmorn could hold himself back no longer, growling as his claws quickly tore apart your blouse and ripped apart anything else that laid underneath, leaving your chest bare and on display for him to admire and gawk at. So much tender beauty encased in supple flesh and it was his.

You were his. You had given yourself fully to him and, with your enthusiastic permission, he was going to take all of you and mark you as his inside and out. Not an inch of you would be left untouched by him. Normally, it was customary to wait for marriage to initiate the consummation, but he didn’t want to wait. This was a consummation of sorts, of their commitment to this relationship and this marriage, but he could just keep this as their little secret from his mother and pretend the night of was their first for her sake.

After all, Balmorn wasn’t going to complain about ravaging you again. Your soft and supple body was nothing short of exquisite.

All at once, your groom-to-be’s long tongue and teeth were everywhere they could find purchase, nipping and lavishing at your neck, holding your body still as you tried to hold onto him for dear life, to grasping at and fondling your soft and plush breasts in his rough hands. He was rutting against you and all of your senses were filled with nothing but him.

Words were beyond you as he began to ravage you, your senses overloaded with pleasure and sensation, but you didn’t mind. It was Balmorn. He could have as much of you as he pleased and then some as far as you were concerned.

His lips and tongue were on your breasts immediately, the soft flesh pliant under his attention and your whimpers and whines music to his ears when he found that your nipples were especially sensitive. Suckling one and rolling the other in his fingertips, he alternated, getting you writhing and riled up as he handled you.

He could tell that you were trying to stifle your noises, but with a wet pop, he scolded you, but not before grabbing your face harshly and stuffing his tongue into your mouth, again, gladly swallowing him down as you grabbed onto his horns, making him hiss and harshly thrust into you, pulling away and leaving a string of saliva connecting you. “Don’t stifle yourself. No one will hear you but me, and I want to hear you sing for me when I make love to you.”

Nodding, you were barely even given a second before your pants and remaining undergarments were torn off of you, leaving you completely bare for him as he suddenly hoisted you up by your hips, your legs slung over his shoulders and his claws pulling your thighs forcibly apart.

Embarrassed, you instinctively tried to shut your legs, but Balmorn would not allow you to hide his most precious treasure from him. And there it was, glistening, wet, hot, and puffy for him. He could smell the musk you were giving off, taking a deep breath of your scent before blowing hot air on your plush and soft mound of flesh.

You felt strange and a bit sheepish when he was examining your most sensitive and private area with such hungry intensity. He didn’t even give you a moment to realize what he intended to do before he pressed his long tongue against you, licking a stripe up your plush and soft folds and causing you to yelp when he dragged it up along your clit.

Once Balmorn got a taste of you, your hot searing silky sweet wetness on his tongue, his appetite was ravenous. His lips formed a seal over yours and his tongue plunged deep inside of you, claws tightly digging into your soft skin as he suckled hungrily and roughly at you, growling and groaning into you as he practically devoured you from the inside out.

Wriggling tongue and suckling lips had you writhing and whining, unable to escape his grip but somehow wanting to draw him even deeper in, even when it wasn’t physically possible. Your entire body was set alight with fiery blaze running red hot through your veins, sensation after sensation wreaking havoc on you as you fought to maintain any coherent thoughts.

Your hands found purchase on his horns, squeezing them in your hands as you fought to ground yourself to something, and it only spurred Balmorn on even further. He suckled even harder at you, swirled his tongue around and pumped it in and out of you even faster. He could feel you dripping down his chin, feel your walls twitching and clenching around his tongue. He was almost tempted to drive you over the edge and finish you, but he wouldn’t.

Not here…not like this. If there was a time you should unravel, it should be while he’s properly mating you.

Breaking the seal his mouth had over you, he pulled away, sliding his tongue out of you at an agonizing pace, maintaining eye contact with you as he allowed you to see just how much of his tongue was inside of you. Your eyes widened as his tongue rested on your naval, your own fluids dripping down your skin and past your breasts.

Before you could even bashfully comment, he kissed you again, snaking his tongue soaked in your fluids into your mouth and letting you taste yourself as he grinded you against his leg, the rough scales making you whimper and jerk in his grasp.

Pulling away from you, he leaned back and began to properly disrobe, shedding his clothes almost as hastily as he tore yours off of you. It didn’t take much to be completely nude, crimson scales glinting like rubies embedded in his hide in the light of the fireplace, his cock standing fully erect as you admired the twitching, leaking, angry looking thing.

It was a fleshy pink colour, and you could almost feel its heat rolling off of it as you stared at it. It was thick, thicker than you thought you could reasonably fit. The tip was tapered at the end to a point and along the underside of it were several fleshy, spiny ridges that formed an unbroken line down to the base where it protruded from its slit. The base was somewhat bulbous in nature where it protruded from.

Nervous, you curled in on yourself, an action that Balmorn took notice of before he sighed, looking over at you and purring affectionately at you, pressing a kiss on your cheek and nuzzling you. “Don’t worry…I won’t hurt you. You can take it nice and slow, a bit at a time until you don’t think you can take anymore. And then we’ll go from there.”

As he softly lapped at your neck affectionately, you relaxed. Even at his most primal, at his most unhinged and most beastly, your safety and wellbeing was his highest priority. What else could you possibly want from a husband?

Nodding, you put your arms around him, holding him close. “O-okay…I trust you.”

Smiling, Balmorn purred softly pulling your arms off of him as he met your gaze hotly. “Turn around, on your hands and knees. Present yourself to me.” He murmured, whispering softly into your ear. “It’ll be more comfortable that way.”

Doing as he told you, you turned around, spreading your legs open for him and resting on your elbows, looking back towards him. “Like this?”

Smirking as he admired the position you were in, he approached you from behind, hands on your hips and hot erection pressed against your naval when he started to feel up your side and your back. “More like,” suddenly, he grabbed you by the back of your head and forced your face down into the blankets and pillows of his nest, releasing his grip and gently running his hands along your back as he hummed contentedly at you, feeling incredibly dirty and indecent presenting yourself to him this way, “this.”

Pressing his hand on your shoulder blades, his other hand kneading at your hip, he then let go of you to line his throbbing hot cock up with your sopping wet entrance, the tapered end allowing easy penetration. Once you felt the intrusion, you gasped, moaning loudly when he started to fill you properly. Once his head was firmly inside, he hissed through his teeth. Fuck, you felt so hot around his cock. Were he not made of fire, you would have burned him.

As he began to press further in, you whimpered, hissing as the painful sting of the stretch proved sharper and more unexpected than you anticipated. Thankfully, Balmorn was quick to soothe you, leaning forward to press his chest against your back and leave kisses and licks along your neck and jawline, whispering encouraging and gentle words into your ear. “Easy, it’s alright…just relax, I’ve got you. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” He murmured, hand reaching down as he circled your clit with his fingertip, making you involuntarily grind on him, earning a soft hiss from him. “That’s right…I won’t let anything hurt you, just relax…and feel me reach deep into you.”

Slowly in increments, he pushed his way into you. You could feel the ridges of the underside of his cock bump against your clit on its way inside, making you yelp and whimper as you ground yourself even more on him. The stretch was painful, but his cock felt so good. His gentleness with you helped the pain melt away with each inch he pushed into you.

Bit by bit, he sheathed himself into you. It wasn’t until your lips met the base of him that you decided you were ready.

Once you gave him permission, Balmorn wrapped an arm around your shoulders from underneath your chin with one arm, the other gripping your hip tightly in his hand. His wings tented around you, serving to help hold up his weight as he prepared to rock his hips into you properly. He had every intention of making this well worth it.

His thrusts were slow and methodical, his focus on dragging himself slowly against your walls, making you feel every inch of him. You had never felt anything this good, every bump on the underside of his cock bumped against your clit with every pull and push of him. It practically had you seeing stars, shuddering and wriggling your hips so you could feel more of him. The more you moved, the more impatient you got. The pain didn’t even seem to matter much, anymore.

It didn’t take very long before Balmorn started to fuck you like he was going mad, your sonorous voice echoing around his bedchambers as he plowed you into his nest. Rapid wet slaps accompanied the songs of pleasure and carnal desire, the half-dragon snarling as he bred you and mated you like his deeper draconic instincts demanded that he do. The ridges on the underside of his cock were no longer bumping against your clit one-by-one in slow long drags, but pulled all together against it with his rapid punishing pace.

You had never felt anything like this before, nothing this good. You were practically screaming wildly as he fucked you madly, chasing his high like he would die if he didn’t fill you with his seed. You wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer, twitching and jerking like mad as the assault on your senses began to build to a breaking point.

With a snarl, Balmorn paused for a moment, pressing himself as harshly into you with a sudden snap of his hips as he stilled, his cock pulsing and throbbing into you as something hot then began to spill into you. The thought of pregnancy never occurred to you before or during your act of lovemaking, but before you could think any further with what little thought you were capable of having, the half-dragon suddenly fastened his teeth into your neck and bit down, tongue lavishing at the site as he started a punishing pace once more. Even after he had already cum, he still wasn’t empty.

No, his loins still burned and he had a need to put out the fire by any means necessary.

The sounds and smells of sex only intensified as he fucked wildly, fast, hard, and deep. You could hear how wet and sloppy this was becoming with his fluids added to yours and you could feel his base popping in and out of you, your body managing to stretch enough to accommodate his full size, somehow.

It wasn’t long before you were wailing, your insides pulsating, spasming, and contracting as you came and came hard, fluids practically leaking and dribbling out of the both of you as he still continued to fuck you, desperate to chase his second release.

Your mind was mush, your thoughts nonexistent, and your words incoherent as Balmorn made an absolute mess of your insides, snarling by your ear as he grew closer and closer to release.

Then, finally, while you were still cumming on his cock, his second orgasm followed swiftly after, Balmorn fucking himself as deeply inside of you as he could as rope after rope of white hot cum stained your insides and cascaded out of you, the half-dragon reaching down to circle your clit just so he could hear you shudder and clench around him as he came.

The both of you were shuddering messes, hot, sweaty, and filthy with the scent and slick of sex on the both of you. You were both breathing heavily as you came down together, Balmorn feeling satisfyingly empty and you feeling satisfyingly full. More and more fluids trickled out of you as you remained locked together, the half-dragon scooping you up in his arms and rolling on his back with you still impaled on his cock. You were completely limp, barely weighing anything as he held you in his arms, you going completely slack against his chest.

You stared down at yourself, your belly looking slightly swollen when you examined yourself. You could see the growing trail and puddle of fluids forming on the ground, feeling so embarrassed and trying to curl in on yourself, but having no strength in your arms or legs.

Balmorn noticed and laughed, wrapping his wings around you to cover you and kissing at your neck and your cheek, purring softly as he held you in his arms. He never would have expected to be able to have this with anyone and of everyone in the world…he was glad it was with you.

Licking at the bitemark he left behind on your neck, he nipped at your ear, getting your attention. “Did that feel good? Did you enjoy that?”

Sharing his sentiments, you laughed softly, nodding blearily as you kissed the tip of his snout, nestling yourself as best you could under his chin, suddenly feeling quite tired and sleepy once the fervour had died down and you were basking in the afterglow.

Softly, Balmorn rumbled, happy with you in his arms and feeling completely safe and pliant against him. He was glad he made this a good experience for you. “I’m glad…I can’t wait for us to be wed.”

But just as he started to pull out of you, you whined, wriggling your hips in an attempt to stay sheathed on him. At this, he couldn’t help but laugh, amused by your refusal to be separated from him. “What? Can’t get enough of me now that you’ve had me twice?”

You shook your head, clinging to his arms as you pressed as much as you could against him, mewling softly. “Just a little longer…wanna…enjoy this for longer…”

Enjoy this for longer, you said? Now, what a lovely idea. “Well, now…if you’re not in a hurry to get off of my cock, then…” He purred, pulling your legs up so that your knees were pressed against your shoulders, his hands locking behind your head as this angle made his cock feel so much deeper inside of you, whimpering as your inside involuntarily shuddered around him. “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I…indulged for a bit? I’ll be gentler, this time. Nice, soft, and slow…would you like that?”

Eagerly, you nodded yes. Anything to not be separated from him. You were perfectly content to just let him use you for a little while to relieve himself of everything he had pent up all this time. You were safe in his arms. You knew it, so you surrendered yourself to him completely, head rolling back against him.

Purring at you and nipping your ear affectionately, he planted his feet into the floor and let his tail assist in lifting his hips. “As you wish, my princess.” He murmured sweetly, voice dripping with honey.

Just like he promised, he languidly began to thrust up into you, the position allowing him to reach deeper into you as he kissed you, nipped at you, and licked you while rocking you on his cock.

If this was what you could expect for the rest of your life, you had no complaints. Fuck everything your father said, Balmorn was a good man and you were certain that no man would ever make you feel this good, this warm, this loved.

The rest of the evening continued like this. You drifted in and out of consciousness, feeling completely safe in his arms as he gently rocked his cock in and out of you. He was no longer in any hurry, so he could take his time with you until you both grew tired and fell asleep.

He had two more climaxes left in him before he decided it was time to get the both of you washed up and ready to sleep, as tempted as the both of you were to fall asleep with his cock sheathed in you. Though, as you cuddled in his nest together, that somehow ended up happening anyway, Balmorn’s cock slipping out of his slit in the night and directly inside of you, involuntarily having sex with you while you both slept and achieving one last climax before he fell into deep sleep, nestled deep inside of you and twitching as it slowly softened during the night, still buried inside.

Perhaps his inner dragon knew where it belonged, and that was inside of his mate at all times.

[ascendingaeons]

Hymn to Sekhmet

by Joey Rivers (ascendingaeons)

O Sekhmet, Great Eye of Ra, the First and the Last Healer and Destroyer, Mother and Daughter You Who accepted the Command of Ra, Your Father To cleanse the Two Lands of Isfet But Your nature was too mighty, Great of Strength as You Are Wanton and unrestrained, You ravaged Earth as a purifying flame And as Ra looked on and saw His Eye, He was stricken with pause By the Will of the Sun, Your Rage was quieted by a crimson brew And into transformative slumber You fell, Great Goddess And from Your great Rage, Het-Heru rose A new Eye was christened, of eros sublime And you, Great Mother, knew the sadness of regret

You, Great Goddess, know the measure of rage unbound And so You Stand, Great Mother of War, in defense and duty Of the Principles and Consequences of Ma’at Your Children are many, Great Lady of Life Diverse in their multitudes, empowered by their tribulation

Yours is the soldier, Your Mighty Sekhem made flesh and bone Entrenched in a maelstrom of fire and blood Returning home to a nation that does not understand him

Yours is the survivor, a living branch of Your burning Will triumphant Endeavoring to rise above the quagmire of loss and agony Through You their struggle is transmuted into the golden light of ka ascendant

Yours is the mother, she who knows sacrifice and sleepless nights A font unyielding of love and pride, of smiles and laughter perfected They who bear the weight of the world so a child can know childhood

Yours is the healer, an alchemist of the ontological persuasion He who is humbled by the frailty beholden to human experience He who ushers Your Sekhem through the riptide of transformative loss

Yours is the artist, through whose passions course Your Divine Fire Who walks the scales of inspiration and madness, knowing Creation unfiltered An alchemist versed in the milieus of perception

For You, Great Goddess, are the very Force of Change You are that which makes men tremble so Such an unnecessary fear, of wisdom and experience untouched Were I You, I would feel such sadness But how You smile, Great One! How You laugh! How You fight! You are not “she who cowers before Apep!” NO! You are the Great Lioness Who rends Chaos asunder! You fight and rage and bite and tear Passion and emotion alive and unrestrained!

You are Love, Great Goddess You are Fear, Great Goddess You are Devotion, Great Goddess You are Loss, Great Goddess You are Health, Great Goddess You are Sickness, Great Goddess This is why I call You the Mother of Life Your Ka is the very essence of experience! Your Sekhem is the very wind of change!

When I first called upon You, timid and unsure, I beheld Your Gaze, a window of fire open before my face And as quickly as You Saw me, You left And again when I called to You with offering of water and bread Exhausted by grief and devotion, tirelessly sung from a caregiver’s heart You came to me and my eyes were opened to You! As I lay without sleep, You stood at my bedside Stroking my back with strong hands of fire Whispering strength and courage into my ear As a sentinel You walked with me, a Mother Lioness guarding Her cub Such loyalty and tenderness You showed And my eyes were forever opened to Your nature

You are the very Force of Creation, the Monad of Being From which stems those primordial principalities Love and Fear, Physis and Logos, Known and Unknown Order and Disorder, Life and Death, Dynamism and Stasis

I offer henu to You, Great Goddess of Creation The endless potentiality and movement of the living cosmos The Fires Divine that Become living sinews and living earth

I offer henu to Your Husband Ptah, the Cosmic Smith Patron of artisans, of those who tirelessly toil In the pursuit of Bringing Into Being but a shard of the Sacred Unmanifest

I offer henu to Your Son, the Beautiful Nefertem The Ageless Lotus that rose from the Benben Stone The First Splendid Light to Shine in the churning Waters of Nun

It was You Who held my right hand as I accepted the mark of a healer And embraced me as a Mother would Her graduating son I offer You my pain, Great Goddess So that You may transmute it into Strength I offer You my fear, Great Goddess So that You may transmute it into Courage I offer You my uncertainty, Great Goddess So that You may transmute it into Wisdom

Into Your Belly I give of myself to unleash my greatest potential To burst from Your Bosom, shining and emboldened For there is nothing that is beyond Your Reach, Great Mother It is for me, now, to See that nothing is beyond my own

Dua Sekhmet! Dua Sekhmet! Dua Sekhmet!

[carionto]

When in doubt, duct it

The prevalence of mass printers means that if the design is functional, anything can be built. Humanity boasts the largest orbital shipyards in the known Galaxy, capable of constructing vessels beyond reasonable scope and complexity, which they need to be able to do due to the sheer number of redundant systems, safety features, and the compartmentalized nature of their space craft.

So why is that half of them begin to look cobbled together after a while? Nearly all civilian craft appear unique, every single small military craft has personal modifications reflecting the pilot's and crew's personalities. We've even seen whole engineering teams rip out large sections of their massive Dreadnoughts and replace them with parts from others. One time we even saw them cut off the propulsion system of a smaller Destroyer and just...

plug it under a Capital ship.

Once again, we desperately are trying to understand the nature behind this odd behavior.

"Well, the architects and designers do a fine job, but when the rubber meats the road, or I should say, when you bump into an asteroid for the first time, only then you begin to understand what each ship is like, you know? A good pilot and crew can feel what their ship wants to really be only after you've been on it for a while.

Any ship or station starts off as a blank slate, but after a while it starts to develop a personality. And like any good friend, they take care of you, so you take care of them. Sometimes the lights just aren't right, so you replace them with a different model. Other times the recoil tilts it a little bit to where it makes the life support hiccup, so you gotta add a counterweight, but not just anything, it has to fit the vibe. Then that has it's own little complaints, and it just goes on like that.

As a matter of fact, the oldest ship in the Fleet started off as a Carrier, but over time the crew, without saying a word, just knew it was meant to be a Battleship. A few "surgeries" later and the Jubilant Axolotl added six extra generators and now can't hold a single fighter craft, is always leaking something, and has two of the biggest Rail Cannons we've ever built. She could probably punch a hole through Mars if she overloaded all her generators, but the crew think that that would be the last thing she, and everything within a few hundred thousand kilometers, ever does."

[khuzena]

This bitter life.

pairing: Blade x g/n!reader

Part 1, Part 2.

Summary: Life is not fair, that is the truth every being must accept. Yet, there’s a part in Blade’s mara-struck mind, that he cannot accept this type of ending, he will not allow it, but he has no right to deny fate itself.

In other words, you die and he’s miserable.

Cw. It’s very fluffy trust me, Reader is absolutely fucked, you die, unrequited requited love, not proofread, really slowburn, character development, terminally ill, ansgt only bcoz fluff is for the weak, life is unfair.

A/n: You already know what it means when I upload a fanfic. If you don’t, my only warning is, shit’s going down.

(wrote this bc bladie won the poll for my other fic of which character u guys want a fic for next 🥳)

For all of Blade’s life, life has always been and will always be truly and utterly miserable.

If he were asked to recount the many times he wished he just died, he would lose count. From a promising life with the high-cloud quintet, from being the renowned crafter of weapons, to being just Blade. His pain does not give him the liberty to dream of a future, he does not have the privilege to close his eyes and dream of his youth when he is only constantly plagued with the thousands of screams who scream his name.

For a man who does not have the right to love, the right to dream and wish for death, just this once, the Aeons were kind enough to give him you.

He met you in unforeseen circumstances, he was gravely injured after another fight with some soldiers on some planet. Blade knows that he won’t die now, but he feels like dying. His stomach slashed by a poison so advanced it eats him from inside out, but oh how kind of the gods to bless him you.

”Hey, stay awake!” It was the first time in his life he’s heard a desperate cry, not out of fear for your life, but for his.

You did not know him, neither did he know you but it was like second nature to protect him.

The destroyer of worlds, the monster from the Stellaron hunters, the exiled one, you only saw a dying man.

He felt a damp cloth pressing on his stomach, “Please hang on.” Just who were you to tell him what to do? You just had to be there at that exact moment. Through blurry eyes, he could not make out what your face looked like, not like he could ever remember.

Blade could remember your voice, it was loud yet soothing, then he felt bandages wrap around his torso as someone carried him. He lost consciousness that night.

His eyes flutter open, was he really that weak to fall under the influence of that poison?

“You’re awake.”

He groans and sits up, his spine hurts like hell. “Who the hell are you?”

”Hey buddy, no need for hostility, I’m the one who saved your life.” His eyes follow you when you roll your eyes at him, ignoring his shit and jotting down whatever on your clipboard.

He stays silent when you come closer to him, your face getting a little too close than his liking, “Can you say ahh?”

Blade hesitates but he obliges, for the first time in his life, to a stranger, something in him tells him to trust you. “Ahh…”

You turn on your penlight and point it at his throat before sliding it back into your pockets, “Good, good” Blade doesn’t know what you’re doing when you stare in his eyes for 2 minutes, must be you inspecting something.

”You’re all fine, I’m surprised that you heal fast. Anyone who takes in such poison and exceeds 4 doses would die in an instant.” He thinks you’re weird.

…

In just 3 days, Blade was out of the hospital, Kafka tracked down where he was and was relieved when she found out Blade was alright.

“You’re really reckless, Bladie.”

Blade only scoffs hearing her words, it may be the truth but who cares? Certainly not him.

Just as the two were leaving the hospital for good, you followed him.

”You…” He saw you panting and gripping your knees from the exhaustion of chasing him down, he left without even informing the nurses.

He doesn’t know why you followed him, “Can I atleast have your name?”

Kafka blinks in surprise before turning away, as if she wasn’t witnessing whatever bullshit was going down.

”Excuse me?”

”Your name.”

”Why do I have to tell you?”

”I saved your life for fucks sake!”

Blade rolls his eyes, narrowing his eyes at you but he just gives up, “Fine, Blade.”

”What?”

”Do I have to repeat myself?”

He’s really mean, but he doesn’t scare you, which surprises him. You don't flinch at his words, but whatever. He thinks that he won’t have to see you again. (You almost crack up a laugh, who the fuck name's their child Blade?)

You don’t push him any further and let him leave, you want to learn more about him.

So for the following days, you ask people if they knew who that ‘Blade’ was, where did he work at, what he truly was because which idiot would end up wounded in a ditch at a place that’s practically considered a warzone in your planet. Not only that, but you were also intrigued and curious about his ability to heal fast and resist the poison.

You don’t find any information regarding that strange man, but one thing’s for sure, he’s dangerous.

Like clockwork, Blade comes again to the planet “Clove-V” to exterminate some pests because some idiot decided to mess with the Stellearon hunters. Gut a soldier, gain information, leave– is what he’s supposed to do.

Blade stares at the bloodied sword of his, “This goddamn poison again.”

He feels weak, clutching his stomach and he needs to leave before anyone catches up on him again. So he leaves the building only to drop unconscious.

Again, he is back to that familiar hospital room where he was just a few weeks ago.

”You’re back.” You scrunch your nose again, the squeaky writing on the clipboard hurting his ears.

He’s too tired to say something snarky, but he sighs in annoyance.

”You look worse than last time,” his gaze never leaves you when you come closer to inspect his throat and eyes like last time, “How do you keep getting in situations like these?”

He stays quiet, but you keep persisting with him to give you an answer.

Was he an assassin? A murderer?! One of the IPC slaves– no, no, he looks different from them, a little too proper (but bloodied), maybe from the Xianzhou luofu? So when you heal his wounds, you can’t help but ask, “Are you a murderer?”

Must you really force an answer out of him?

”Do I not look like one?” Were you such a fool to ask such an obvious answer?

You sat back down on the comfort of the cushion chair, “I didn’t want to assume”

”Now you know.”

“Yeah.”

He’s curious, when you find out that he’s a murderer, you’re not afraid, you do not run away or distance yourself, “Why do you kill people?”

He stays silent again, you don’t know the specifics, but you know the answer.

“I’ll get going now,” clearing your throat, “Just use the call button if you need help, one of the nurses will attend to you.”

And again, for 2 days, he is out of the hospital.

“You really keep ending up in that hospital, don’t you?” Kafka laughs, throwing away the Blade’s admission.

As they left, he could see you staring at him from your office. It was embarrassing enough that he caught you watching him leave so intently, Blade saw the curtains immediately close.

Again and again, he keeps getting wound up in that same hospital, might as well be stuck there forever.

”I’m no longer surprised you’re here again Blade.” It’s weird, when his name slips out from your lips, it sounds less scary (people often associate his name with fear and murder, but you call him like he’s any other man)

8 visits to your clinic, you might as well be his personal doctor.

“I know you’re a murderer but do you constantly have to be injured every month? I’m starting to think you’re getting injured just to see me.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” He scoffs.

”I was merely jesting.”

He cocks his head to the side, he sees you more often than he meets with Sam. You turn on your penlight again, unlike his first visit, he obliges without putting up a fight.

“Nothing unusual, you’re good to go.” You speak in between coughs, which surprises Blade. Lately, you were sicker than usual, pale and run-down.

”Are you okay?”

”Excuse me?”

”Nevermind.”

He should mind his own business, this is strictly a patient and doctor relationship. But he can’t help but wonder, if you looked that sick, shouldn’t you be on leave? You leave his hospital room without a word, he’s still curious.

He left, but this time, he didn’t see you looking out from your office window to watch where he was going.

Months pass by, by now he would’ve forgotten about you. But in the back of his head, he’s still wondering how are you? It isn’t for him to inquire about your personal life. He is still tempted to know more about you, so, he ends up wounded on that planet again (much to silverwolf’s dismay, he was supposed to be on a different mission)

He wakes up again in that hospital room, your coughs were loud enough to wake him up, “You keep coming back, I should just give you medicine so you don’t have to always end up here”

In truth, he just wanted to see you. It was unlike him to think about someone this much but he can’t help but be curious (worried, but he would never admit that.)

He felt the back of your palm press on his forehead, good thing he didn’t have a fever, “Your temperature’s okay.” He is worried, you speak in between coughs he could barely register your words. For a moment when you touched his skin, he felt his mara quelled, even for just a mere second.

“I want to ask, who are you really?” He’s taken by surprise by your question, something he expected but not one he expected now.

”I’m a stellaron hunter.” Oh.

A stellaron hunter, huh? “Why did you become one?”

He asks himself, why did he become one? Other than for when that day comes, he will be free, he will die. He can’t form a full answer, “I don’t know.” It’s better to give an answer, to lie, rather than be someone who cannot answer such a simple question.

“I see.” But you see through him, but you’re not close enough to him to question him about who he truly is. So you’ll know him through medicine, you’ll heal him to get to know who he is if he cannot give you a clear answer.

You gave him your name, because after 9 visits, he should know your name already. “What?”

”My name.”

He nods along, he’ll make sure to not forget it. You were sure he’s okay now, his vitals are back to normal, but before you leave, he calls out your name.

“You…” There was a look of confusion on your face, “Nevermind” He wanted to ask about your health, why were you still working? By seeing your current health, you’re close to death at this point. But he keeps his concerns to himself; after all, what does he know of you other than a doctor?

But even months pass by, he still wants to understand you. You do not look at him with contempt unlike his victims, and even if he had visited 12 times now, you did not seem annoyed; maybe even thrilled with the company.

He does not care for hobbies or games, he’s not like silverwolf whose life revolves around games and other things, he’s not like kafka who takes pleasure in playing with her food (her victims), he’s definitely not gentle and kind like Firefly.

So Blade does not understand why you’re fond of things like these, a monopoly board? Really? It’s stupid, very. But it’s the only way you two can understand each other, even if it means wasting time like this.

You rolled a 6 and landed on a community chest, “God damn it.”

He squints his eye when you got a card that said ‘Go to jail’, what the fuck was this game even about? “I don’t get this game”

He really doesn’t, but he rolls another and lands on some unclaimed property and buys it, “No shit, but you’re a lucky bastard.”

“I don’t get why we’re playing this stupid game, even checkers seem more appealing.” Finally getting out of jail, you rolled a 5 and landed on his property, going bankrupt. “You know what? Fuck this game.”

He doesn’t even understand how he won, he’d much prefer if you two read in silence or something. “That was a stupid game”

“You’re stupid.”

”Excuse me?”

Then you two go at it and fight again, but it was fun. The most fun he’s had in years (as if he ever knew what fun truly is)

But life is not kind, time is limited and you cannot trade gems or blood for 5 more minutes. He’s known that rule all his life, to never get attached ever again because he’ll be miserable, he’ll lose himself the way he lost who he truly was when he was still Yingxing. Yet, humans will always be humans; mortals, immortals, they are the same. And he is no exception.

After his 23rd visit for the past 2 years– going 3, he remembers small details about you. You studied at this university for a few extra years because you kept getting a failing grade, you like roping him up in stupid games (you tried to make him play twister once, it was you who got a twisted ankle), you like reading and everything else.

For all his cursed, miserable life, he slowly found reason, a part of him feels human again.

“You don’t look good.”

A stifled cough escaped you, “You think?”

You were on sick leave, he found out where you lived after asking forcing one of the nurses where you lived. Blade found you on the couch, sprawled with only a thin blanket covering you. He doesn’t care for anyone, just this once, though, just this once.

”Have you eaten yet?” It makes you laugh at how caring he is, the most unexpected side of him, after all.

You shook your head, “No.”

A cough seized you so suddenly, Blade’s worries did not go away. He doesn’t know how to cook, much less how to take care of a person.

”You have a fever,” he hands you a glass of water, but it was not enough to ease your pain.

You wish to close your eyes, but even the small contracting of your muscles ache, when you drink, it hurts, when you move, it hurts. It hurts to live at this point but you endure, “Why did you come?”

“I had to.”

”Why exactly?”

”Just shut up and let me take care of you.”

You could only faintly chuckle at his words when he gets a warm cloth to put it on your forehead, “What else do I do?”

Nighttime came but he has not left yet, he can’t leave just yet, “Tell me.”

There was no use, whatever he did would not help you get through with this illness of yours. “Just tell me.” You did not have the energy to argue or talk, but he did not get the hint so he continued to pester you for an answer.

”Can you please stop talking? I need to sleep.”

”Fine.”

Tomorrow came, only Blade was right beside you, staring intently at you; a part of him afraid you won’t wake up again.

”You’re awake.” Blade always had that nonchalant expression, but his eyes were heavy with worry. Were you dreaming or was he really right beside you and worried for your well being? A part of you wished you still were, having company is the best when you’re ill.

You coughed softly, “Yes.”

Why didn’t he leave? Was he worried? You must be insane to think that way, he is just your old patient who just so happened to always end up in the hospital under your care.

The man in front of you sat beside you and stared at you for a while, not knowing what to do, “What do I do next?”

Ah. He rarely shows emotion on his face but his pupils dilate for a split second, you can’t die but you were so close to dying, he’s no doctor, he has no expertise in taking care of anyone but for just this moment he wished he did.

“Just keep me company.” He nods.

Note: cries cries cries bc the full fic is so long i have to make it into 2 parts :((( im abt to post part 2 pls pls wait 😔😔😔

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡ 

[alpaca-clouds]

Hayao Miyazaki & Solarpunk

Hayao Miyazaki probably never planned to become this super influential voice for Solarpunk. He did become it though. In fact a lot of his movies are considered to be Solarpunk to some degree, which in a way does make a lot of sense. After all, not only does he generally feature stories about preserving the environment, and stories that are very much anti-war and often also anti-capitalist, but - and I think this is something often ignores - he also is heavily influenced by indigenous Japanese storytelling. There are very few creatives in Japan that outright reference the indigenous cultures of Japan - but Hayao Miyazaki is one of them.

The strongest Solarpunk vibes in his movies can obviously be found with Nausicaä, and with Princess Mononoke. One a post-apocalyptic movie, the other one a historical fantasy piece, which makes this entire thing even more interesting. Laputa, too, is often seen as Solarpunk - a story that is pretty much high fantasy with some scifi elements. And I would argue that you still very much can find Solarpunk themes in both Spirited Away and My Neighbour Totoro.

Not one of those movies is SciFi. And I very much find this worthy of discussing, because I think it is one of those aspects where a lot of people who would like to write something more Solarpunk could learn from.

One point that cannot be ignored is of course that Miyazaki aside from traditional and indigenous Japanese storytelling also drew heavy influence from Ursula K. LeGuin in some of his works - who also is one of the big influences on Solarpunk. And yes, there might be some essay of mine about LeGuin coming some day in the future - but not too soon.

From the very beginning of Studio Ghibli at least, Miyazaki's movies always had a heavy emphasis on some themes. These included feminism (by showing both women who can fight, and the importance of care work done by women), anti-war and pacifism, and environmentalism.

It should be noted that very much no Miyazaki movie is set in an utopia. Instead the movies are concerned with the idea of finding solutions for the characters - and with the characters empowering themselves.

Nausicaä and Princess Mononoke might be the clearest examples here. In both movies the protagonists take the role of creating peace between nature and those, trying to destroy it. However this ending is never quite a compromise, rather than the destroyers seeing that they are doing wrong and promising to do better. Which is another core thing that is there in most of Miyazaki's movies: They show a big hope for humanity and its ability to be good. Only rarely are we shown irredeemable villains in those movies - most of the times just people blinded by their lust for money and power. Or, at times, there is simply the problem that the two different sides can literally not understand each other.

This is a theme that gets explored again and again. How so many conflicts are rooted in the different sides not communicating - or at times literally being unable to communicate. With the protagonists being the ones who will be able to listen and understand.

The other aspect is that the protagonist in Miyazaki's movies also will empower themselves, while the antagonists do try and depower them. The protagonists have their own wishes and believes and stay true to them. They will also manage to succeed by befriending other people they meet along their way, by meeting them without any prejudice in many cases. Be it Ashitaka, who meets both the gods and the people of Iron Town without hatred, or be it Chihiro, who manages to befriend almost everyone she meets along her way.

The important aspect is, that the movies here offer a hopeful outlook and also show the importance of helping each other and banding up against a greater evil. In fact they do show a heavy emphasis on Mutual Aid in some interesting ways.

Here is the thing: Yes, I really want to see more Solarpunk fiction that is set in possible, but really positive Solarpunk worlds that dare to imagine anarchist and communist worlds. But we absolutely need these kinds of stories. Stories that are about the fight for the environment, for a better word. Stories in which the characters do offer mutual aid to others, work together and find understanding. And stories in which there can be hope found.

And I think we just need to give this more of a chance - and talk more about it.

[prideprejudce]

Also I always assumed the Alicent/Targaryans dynamics were supposed to be a metaphor for westeros and the targaryan take over- like the targs are not supposed to be in westeros with the dragons, they took over by force and held power via the dragons, but none of them are native to westeros and Dont Fit as rulers of the nation.

Alicent is the metaphor for westeros, and Aegon and Rhaenyra are two different targaryans who rely on targ exceptionalism, but arent getting what they want from her. Aegon will never be loved by Alicent like he wants, like a real son that she wanted, just like the targs will never be completely loved by westeros like true children of the country, bc they took it by force-just like Aegon was forced onto Alicent.

Rhaenyra on the other hand, can't marry Alicent, and cant get any closer to her bc they live by completely different rules, just like the targs will never be able to fully integrate their customs into the culture of westeros. Rhaenyra will always think of herself as a Targaryan closer to a God, and Alicent and westeros will always resent her for it.

I always assumed that was on purpose that the whole dance with Alicent/Aegon/Rhaenyra was a bit of a metaphor for the targs not able to really settle into comfortable harmony with westeros, always kept apart by something.

this is actually a great interpretation of the dynamics of the targaryens and the world around them

personally, I think the targaryens are a clan that were supposed to have died in old Valyria, like they were literally selected by nature to not survive the Doom and to be left into history and not at all apart of the rise in the new world of westeros. but since they have survived, they are now like relics of the past that have no belonging in the new world and are the black sheep of it (or platinum blonde sheep lol). ive even read some theories that say the targaryens are now forever cursed for going against nature and not accepting their original destiny to become extinct

I also always refer to the targaryen family as the snake eating its own tail, because that's essentially who they are. they remain in power and escape extinction through continuing to birth new targaryen members and dragons for generations, but they are also destroying their own family line by continuously inbreeding to keep the bloodline pure. this has, of course, led to targaryen members with severe personality issues and rumors of instability and insanity in the line. This also can show when some of their babies are born with "dragon like features" before dying. they are their own saviors as well as their own destroyers, with this being especially shown in fire and blood and hotd

overall i just picture them as old relics of the past being plucked out of their time and going against what nature had planned for them, and now suffer the consequences of being the odd ones out in westeros who are also rumored to be rotting from the inside out

that doesn't make me love them any less, they are my favorite family in ice and fire and the mysticism that surrounds them is the most compelling dynamic of the entire series

[izel-scribbles]

cool title or something

(closeups + oc lore under the cut)

this is eve, short for eversor (destroyer in latin) - she/they (angels dont really have gender but she's transfem yay)

eve is an angel that used to be god's right hand. her duty was to destroy sinners, as her name would suggest, but her bloodlust eventually caused her to fall from grace. the scar on her arm is from a battle with a demon. they have another burn scar on her other arm from hellfire from that same design.

their relevance to the story is that she "corrupts" beatrice (see below) craving the power she used to have, and essentially possesses her to carry out eve's orders. beatrice is still conscious during this, and the possession is manifested as the wound around her eye.

back in ancient times, eve fell in love with a priestess, but it didn't end well, and the priestess erased all mentions of eve's name from every bible she could find, and therefore effectively rendered eve nonexistent. eve sulked for a couple hundred years and then resumed her duties, but god didn't forgive her for falling in love with a mortal. thus begins eve's descent into almost becoming a demon.

also, random but her animal is the barn owl, which inspired her physical appearance, and she can see from any barn owl's eyes

also random, if she was human she'd be east asian

this is beatrice, star of our show! she is 17 at the start of the story, and almost 18 at the end. (she/her, lesbian)

beatrice grows up in a small town in upstate new york, that is almost completely isolated. this town is very religious, and beatrice is raised catholic. (i also call her betty sometimes, which is her grandma's nickname for her)

her mother died in childbirth, leaving her father to raise her. Unfortunately, he is not the best father, since betty's mom was in a marriage arranged by her parents and her father is the strict religious type. Pretty sure he's a pastor or something, idk

eve first starts speaking to her on evenings when she would want to avoid her father, and would spend time in church alone.

beatrice loves nature and animals and being outside. her garden is her most prized possession. her grandma taught her a lot about plants and biology, which her father disapproved of. beatrice also knows how to play piano, and her favorite composer is Chopin.

about halfway through the story, she murders her father under eve's guidance, after he catches her with jenna and starts yelling and threatening jenna

he's an abusive pos tho, we don't miss him <3 also, betty's theme song is "wine and wheat" by madds buckley

and now, jenna! she/they, 17-almost-18, bisexual

Jenna is your typical 80s girl. she lives in NYC i think, and every summer, her parents send her to stay with her aunt (who may be a little on the occultist side). the town her aunt lives in is the same one where beatrice lives.

over 9 years, jenna and beatrice become friends, writing letters to each other in the spring and fall and winter and spending summers together. Jenna finds herself wondering if she thinks of Beatrice as a friend or something else when she's about 15, but she doesn't mention it because she knows how it would go over given betty's upbringing. beatrice is 100% in love with her, but she doesn't know it :D

throughout the story, we get little flashbacks of jenna and beatrice's childhood summers spent together, showing how they got close.

Jenna loves queen, the smiths, etc (im projecting here), and plays their music for beatrice. beatrice commits it to memory and learns to play "somebody to love" on her piano, and plays it for jenna (GAY)

at the end of the story, after beatrice has gone on a murdering spree under eve's influence, jenna has to kill beatrice to stop her from hurting anyone else. jenna is the one person eve cannot convince beatrice to hurt. they have the big gay love confession, after which jenna stabs beatrice in the chest. obviously beatrice dies in her arms.

this entire story is taking place in 1985 i think, im not really sure yet lol

feel free to ask any questions! i've had this story brewing since about september

[pikahlua]

Fourteen Days of MHA: Day 1

Home

WARNING: Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood spoilers (seasons 1 and 2)

You: Huh!?!?!?!?

Oh yeah, it's time for a little mini-meta.

Okay, well, we're not going to get into the ENDING yet, but there's actually a lot going on in MHA that looks eerily familiar if you're an FMA fan. MHA itself is in many ways a referential work, and I don't think all of these parallels are coincidences (though surely some are).

Let's talk about the symbolism of the home.

My Hero Academia has three major examples of "home" that it highlights as symbols: those of the villains Tomura Shigaraki, Himiko Toga, and Touya Todoroki. The villains view their homes as symbols of oppression and pain. We know the home is seen as the image of all that oppression based on how various characters treat the houses themselves.

When Touya returned home after his miraculous survival, he found the home hadn't changed as a result of his death. The "scene" there always looks the same.

And when Endeavor tries to atone, Endeavor acknowledges that the "house" he raised his children in is full of bad memories to the extent that he decides to build his family a new home where they can live without him.

Touya's opportunity to demonstrate his feelings about his home arises with Himiko Toga. She returns to her abandoned childhood home out of curiosity and finds it full of hatred and derision, symbolizing her experiences there.

Touya does her a "kindness" by destroying the house.

Then he reveals that doing so, to him, is a way to get back at Endeavor--at the man who created Touya's own broken childhood home.

This scene in particular evokes the famous imagery of Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood of the Elric Brothers burning down their own childhood home.

The act of destroying their own home is so important to them that Edward chooses to commemorate the date by engraving it inside his pocketwatch, "Don't Forget 3.Oct.11." To the brothers, this act is a symbol of their resolve--of their chosen path to atone for their sins and restore their bodies. There can be no going back home if there is no home to return to.

In other words, the purposeful destruction of one's home represents a threshold, a point of no return. By destroying their homes, the villains of MHA demonstrate their conviction for the paths they've chosen.

The problem is, there's another reason one might destroy their own home.

To run away. To hide. To forget.

Why does Himiko call Touya's act of destruction a kindness, even if Touya denies it? Because he has destroyed the largest reminder of the pain of her childhood.

The League of Villains seek to destroy the world because they were rejected by the world and wish to reject it back. Those homes were the world to them at one point, when they were children. To them, the world is just an extension of the suffering they experienced.

Tomura wants to destroy the world to justify his existence as a destroyer, but in reality he doesn't want to face the fact that he killed his family by accident.

The tragedy of his childhood was so traumatic he repressed the memory and only found his concrete motivation to destroy the world once he remembered his past in Deika City. As soon as he remembers that house, he wishes to destroy it again. It's already been destroyed, but the memory of it continues to hurt him long after. By destroying the world, maybe he can forget it again. Maybe the pain will make sense and he won't have to think about it anymore. Maybe he'll stop being a crying child deep down.

The villains seek to destroy their own origins, which is by nature a self-destructive cause. Paradoxically, they will end up destroyed in the end no matter if they succeed or fail in their goals. Either the world will be destroyed and they along with it, or they will die trying.

To save Tenko's heart, Izuku has to bring that memory of the house to the surface. He has to recontextualize it to validate Tenko as he is.

And the recontexualization is All For One.

By contextualizing Tenko's life as a product of All For One's machinations, it gives Tomura a new reason to destroy that memory and that house: to destroy All For One.

And with that comes a new justification for Tomura's existence.

The destruction of All For One.

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I've been following your Heretic updates and I've been wondering, are the Hours akin to forces of nature - or they beings with desires and fears that are simply too alien for humans to comprehend?

They are beings with desires and fears that are for the most part completely comprehensible. Mother White is the only alien one. They are also forces of nature. The Hours are the aeonic powers that hold the universe together, and maintain an order in which life and the pursuit of apotheosis are possible. Their passions, rages, promises and burdens configure and power the architecture of the universe.

You know what, let's actually run through them.

The Madrugad (the First Hour) is the Hour of the Passage. She ensures that one side of a doorway connects to the other. She also presides over the passage from life to death (and back, if she allows it). She is invoked for summonings and resurrection magic. She attends the Sun-In-Rags in hospice, preventing him from passing into death. She is remote and solemn but broadly benevolent, though not necessarily generous.

The Queen-In-Chains (the Second Hour) is the Prophet's Hour. She presides over all causality and the organization of time. She is completely insane, but probably knows everything, and can act with searing and bewildering precision when she launches some petitioner on a called shot through the butterfly effect.

The Stranger (the Third Hour) is the Hour of Deception. She presides over everything that is unknown, and protects the secrecy of everything which should remain unknown. She's one of the three gods of the Wood, and is generally a real jerk. Trickster gods are almost universally manifestations of the Stranger. Her sister is the Ring-Yew, and the pair generally cooperate when called upon to do so. She is engaged in a friendly rivalry with the Black Captain.

The Rending (the Fourth Hour) is the Hour of Annihilation. He is the destroyer. Rage, cruelty, and pestilence are his offices. He wants to hurt you before you die. He loves the Sunflower King, and inflicts endless torments upon him to express his love. Doesn't really have a bone to pick with any particular other Hour. He intends to kill them all equally.

The Kithmark (the Fifth Hour) is the Hour of the Inner Reach. He maintains the boundary between 'you' and everything that is not 'you.' A lot of yogic practices get into Kithmark veneration. Mostly keeps to himself but if you end up fucking around in Idless at all you'll probably become a big fan of him. He is working very hard all the time to prevent you from being colonized by invading intelligences.

The Pyre-Hawk (the Sixth Hour) is the Hour of Exultation. His office is purification and ascension. He's absolutely 100% of the time in a state of ecstatic joy, and you will be too, if you pursue his favor for long enough! Nobody has beef with the Pyre-Hawk. He's the life of the party and we're all thrilled he's here.

The Sunflower King (the Seventh Hour) is the Hour of Triumph. It is by his will that your will has the power to reshape the world around you. Even the physical laws of the universe give way before the will of the Sunflower King. Proud and resplendent, haughty and flensing, in his kingly greatness he submits to be Rended to spare all of creation from facing the same scourge. The most beloved of the Hours for the greatness of his sacrifice. The Madderblade is his guardian and knight. All hail.

The Madderblade (the Eighth Hour) is the Hour of Conquest & Reconciliation. The fusion and fission of every atom in the universe are only the echoes of her towering victories in both love and violence. She is glorious. She is always serving. She is the first force that ever slew an Hour. Her blade bit the heart of Mother White. The Black Captain wants to fuck her so bad it makes him look stupid. She loves him too. They've been in a state of relentless war ever since acknowledging their passion, to prevent themselves from committing the calamitous Sin of the Sky.

The Bent Minstrel (the Ninth Hour) is dead, which is very bad. He was the second of the three gods of the Wood, and presided over the movement of nature. People who know about this sort of thing generally speak well of his memory, although often in the same way that they call the fairies "the good neighbors." Wild Hunts and horned gods aside, he was the right Hour to pray to if you wanted your harvests to be plentiful and the weather to be good. He also inspired art & music, which he perceived to be just more manifestations of the weather. Mother White ate him.

The Ring-Yew (the Tenth Hour) is the Merciful Hour. Every lucky break you've ever gotten when the chips were down was thanks to her. She is the particular protector of children, prisoners, slaves, martyrs, animals, and the lost. She is the third god of the Wood, and by far the nicest one. Fortunate is he who glimpses the edge of her silver hand in his moment of despair, because a path to peace and freedom is about to open up before him. She is completely incapable of any kind of violence.

Mother White (the Eleventh Hour) is the Hour of Vibrance. Hers is the vital force which allows life to multiply and which reanimates the dead. She is constantly hungry and has no other motivation that anyone has ever been able to determine before she ate them. It's hard to even tell if she communicates, or if she's just mimicking communication in order to entice you to come close enough that she can get her jaws around you. She's an awful grub and probably unkillable, but who knows what she'd pupate into if she could ever get enough to eat? Maybe something that wouldn't be so alien and dangerous.

The Stone Beggar (the Twelfth Hour) is also dead, but it seems unlikely that he'll stay that way. He was the Hour of Inevitability, and presided over the turning wheel. His name is still invoked by revolutionaries, and cursed by those who would try to cling to power beyond their appointed time. It is thanks to his kindness and to his cruel indifference that the wheel always turns. He was noble, quiet, and implacable in war. Mother White ate him too.

The Uranian (the Thirteenth Hour) is the Hour of Daring. Alone out of all the Hours, he was once a mortal man. His offices are magic and the movement of the spheres. Kind of a dick tbh, very into backstabbing your way to the top. The kind of guy who would actually say "don't hate the player, hate the game."

The Black Captain (the Fourteenth Hour) is the Hour of Satisfaction. It is by his will that oaths, vengeance, and victory hold power. He used to be the greatest of the stalking kings of Mithra, before the Madrugad summoned him into mundus to defend her domicile (in which the Sun-In-Rags takes sanctuary) from the ravages of Mother White, during the War of Intercalation. Dutiful, cunning, ruthless, and skillful. He's the sink to the Madderblade's source, you know? The Romans were really into him.

Those are all the currently seated Hours. There are more beings you can petition: like the Ecdysiast, the Wakefire, the Flayed Widow, and the Hanged Rider, all of whom were killed during the War of Intercalation and their Thrones have subsequently been taken by others (the Madderblade, the Pyre-Hawk, the Uranian, and the Black Captain, respectively). There are also Great Leviathan and the First Ant, neither of whom have ever been Hours, but are sufficiently titanic beings that they have a lot in common with the Hours. But you get the idea. They're not incomprehensible at all, except for Mother White.

[lunastrophe]

Drow Lore 🕷️ Minthara About Slayer

When Minthara speaks about the Dark Urge’s heritage and about Slayer – dark, monstrous entity uniquely connected to Bhaal's bloodline – she uses terms elgg-hor and duk-tak.

Devnote to Minthara’s line seems to suggest that they are merely equivalents of “slayer, killer” in drow language:

In connection to drow lore, though, their meaning is a bit broader. These terms were used as nicknames for at least two renowned drow from Menzoberranzan who were considered exceptionally cruel - even by drow standards.

🕷️ Uthegentel Del'Armgo: Elgg-hor - Elgg-hor can be translated as "Destroyer" (elgg – “kill, slay, destroy”). This nickname, along with a few others, was given to Uthegentel of House Barrison Del’Armgo, one of the greatest warriors and weapon masters in the history of Menzoberranzan and one of the largest drow ever seen in the Underdark. In battle he was fearless, seemingly immune to pain and most mortal wounds, and few drow ever fought with so much reckless ferocity. It was said that he appreciated carnage so much that sometimes he was literally ripping his opponents to pieces, tearing them limb by limb.

Uthegentel’s unusually large appearance, ungodly strength and savage nature were making others suspect that he was not a full-blooded drow, or even more than a mortal – although nobody could tell for sure who (or what) could be mixed into his ancestry.

🕷️ Vendes Baenre: Duk-Tak - Duk-Tak means literally "Unholy Executioner" and it was a nickname of the fourth daughter of House Baenre. Vendes was small of stature, but she was known to be incredibly volatile, vicious and sadistic, enjoying the art of torture. Whenever her mother needed to punish someone, Vendes was more than eager to take care of it, being “…brilliant at her cruel craft, finding every sensitive area on the hapless prisoner.”

Vendes was especially known of wielding seven-headed whip of fangs that could transform the skin of her victims, changing them into ebony statues. She was making use of it to punish lower ranking drow of her house, or even would-be priestesses of the Academy who were seen – or only suspected of – deviating from the Way of Lolth. Statues created as a result of such punishment were put on display for all to see.

🕷️ Elgg-hor and Duk-Tak in Minthara's Memories - Minthara certainly remembers both Uthegentel Del’Armgo and Vendes Baenre – since they were still alive around 14th century DR.

She was probably seeing Vendes especially often since Duk-Tak was her relative – maybe even her aunt. She definitely saw some of her famous statues and probably witnessed how they were made. Who knows - maybe the two of them were even working together at some point, since Vendes liked to punish heretics and apostates among the future priestesses, and Minthara’s oath was also connected to punishing those who turn from Lolth?

It is hard to tell if Vendes was among Minthara’s favourite relatives, being highly unstable and volatile – but Minthara might still admire her wicked efficiency and skills. Maybe she could even see some kind of symmetry between Vendes and Orin (and now I wonder if it could influence her perception of the latter somehow...).

🔹 So... yeah, both elgg-hor and duk-tak seem adequate enough as drow names for a murder incarnate. But originally, they were not used as names connected uniquely to the Slayer - or to Lord of Murder and his progeny in general.

For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️

[frogkicks]

WELL,,, i learned from my last post fans of post-redemption deathstar fluff exist!!! im back, here's more:

you guys ever think about how Dominator is one of the few characters with ears,,,

OPINION: From my limited exposure, it seems Deathstar often portrays Dominator as super confidently flirtatious, and Wander as a bumbling, blushy guy.

I personally don't like it? Here's my thoughts:

Dominator used seduction insincerely to mess with Hater. That's kinda it. I think without her villainous power tripping as a barrier, expressing or receiving genuine love confuses her. Sylvia calling her a friend gave her pause, and she mentally lagged after Wander saved her life and hugged her.

It's so obvious Wander has the charm advantage. The guy is immune to embarrassment, and has all of the experience articulating love, because he wasn't a sadistic galaxy destroyer. It's second nature for him, casual.

I like Dominator having a confident, charismatic approach for everything, but my silly headcanon is that Wander's doting throws her off sometimes. She's never been receptive to affection until virtually 5 minutes ago. I think it's logical for her to be like a fish out of water, at least for a while.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Stranger 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Summary: A stranger buys the farmstead nearby and disturbs your sleepy village life.

Part of the Backwoods AU

Note: My first time writing this character!

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your nails are crusted in dirt as you kneel in the garden. You grunt as you wrestle the roots of weed from the soil and toss it aside. You wipe your forehead with the back of your glove as you hear the screen door snap shut. Your grandmother stands on the stoop, her hand on her achy hip.

“Did you hear, dearie?” She calls in her creaky voice. “Someone’s moved into Clyde’s old house.”

“Huh?” You catch your breath as you gather up the broken weeds, “it’s half ash.”

“Suppose they’ll fix it up,” she mutters as she leans on the narrow iron rail along the side of the backsteps.

“Suppose,” you agree as you stuff the green and brown foliage into the paper bag for the compost. “Who told you that?”

“I was just talking to Lynette on the phone. She also said Molly’s having her fifth.”

Five kids? You hide your chagrin at the thought. You don’t mind kids but that’s a lot to handle, let alone the pregnancies. Molly balloon’s up so big she can hardly move. Her last shower, she sat the whole time. Not much different than you, you guess. You sat in the corner and watched the silly games

“That’s exciting,” you say as you stand and dust off your knees, crumpling the top of the bag in your other hand.

“Ah, I’m sure you woulda loved to have four sisters? Maybe brothers? It’s a pity your mother never gave me any more grandchildren.”

“Mmm,” you suppress a frown, “yeah, well…”

“Anyhow, enough talk of spoiled milk,” she waves off, “I got a pie in the oven. You can take it over the Clyde’s once it cools.”

“I… why would I do that?”

“Oh my, don’t be ridiculous. We have a new neighbour, we have to be polite and welcome them to the village. It’s probably a nice family, or maybe someone your age. A friend?” She suggests, “I’d do it myself but I don’t think I’d make the walk…” she looks down at her hip, theatrically rubbing it. 

“Right,” you agree, the prospect of strangers making your tummy lurch. “Well, that pie will take some time.”

“Long enough for you to put on something clean,” she tuts as she looks down at your dirty jeans, “my lord, what would they think?”

“Yes, gramma, I’ll change, once I get this in the compost.”

“Good,” she smirks triumphantly and turns to swing open the screen door, the hinges whining shrilly.

You sniff and cross the yard. It’s not often there’s new faces in Hammer Ford. The village is a tourist trap at best and not a very lively one. Everyone calls each other by name and it’s second nature to stop and say hi. But that’s because you know each other; you have for years.

You lift the lid on the large bin and empty the bag into it. You could always lie and hide the pie in some bushes. Your deceit wouldn’t be hidden for long. Even in this sleepy place, word travels fast and someone always seems to be watching and waiting to pass it on.

🥧

You head out with the pie in a basket like some fairytale. You’re only short a red hood and a big bad wolf. You set off down the country roads, following the lazy curves towards the horizon. It’s after noon and the sun’s turning mild as it drifts across its pale canvas.

The old homestead is the second closest to your grandmother’s. The homes around Hammer Ford or sprawled out amid the plowed fields and green meadows. The cluster of old pines loom over you as you pass in there shadow and crest the hill that marks the edge of the property. Clyde’s tractor used to sit there, just by the broken down fence.

Ahead, down another stretch of road, this path unpaved, stands the decrepit house. The tragedy still singes the memories of the villagers. That night comes back to you in a blaze of orange and the smell of cinder. Poor old Clyde was buried behind Sacred Stave church.

You search the overgrown grass for a sign of life. There’s a black truck by the caved in garage but that’s about it. It might not be a family. It’s a lot of work to do with little ones around. If anything, it would only be the parents as they rebuild. Your mind wanders, wondering who would buy the old farm and why.

You come down the path, just along the ditch that dips behind a cluster of brambles. There’s a snap and a crack and you skid to a halt on the stones. You spin and look around, a heavy breath pluming into the air. Like the fire reawakened.

“Can I help you?” The deep timbre rolls through you and you step back on your heel as you face the man down in the ditch. He peers up at you above the scraggly top of the brambles.

“Uh,” you gulp and stare at him dumbly. He might think you’re lost. Or worse, trespassing.

His hair is short, only an inch on top and shaved even shorter around the sides. His beard is thick around his mouth, growing sparse across his cheeks, and two vibrant blue eyes beam back at you. The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink away. You can sense the city radiating off of him. He scares you.

“Hello? What’s up?” He waves as if trying to wake you up.

“Um, pie?” You say, cringing at your own speechlessness.

“Pie,” he repeats flatly.

You hold up the basket and blink. You never were very good at introductions. You were the only girl at school without friends. You were just sort of there.

“Pie,” you echo once more and hold out the basket.

He tilts his head, curiously, and huffs. He juts out his jaw and grunts as he pushes the brambles apart and climbs out of the ditchy. His denim jacket is streaked in dirty and pollen.

He takes the basket by the handle, his rough finger brushing yours. He peels back the cloth and to peek inside, “pie.” He utters the syllable a fourth time between you.

“Yeah,” your voice is wispy and small. “Bye.”

You let out a strained breath and spin, keeping yourself from breaking into a sprint. You stomp away frantically, smacking yourself internally for being so awkward. Well, maybe that’s a good thing. He’ll have no reason to talk to you ever again.

[pablitogavii]

Can you do one of gavi is jealous because the girls/guys and fam keep stealing you at gatherings w friends and family and then the rest is up to u

"Amooor!" Pablo called while you were standing by the pool talking to Aurora about her recent trip to Italy and she giggled saying how 'whiny her little brother is' which was true but you adored it anyways.

"What is it Pablito?" you walk towards him and he immediately snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight embrace not caring that you were in the middle of the backyard and that his entire family was right there.

"When are we gonna go home??" he whispered and you moved a little to look into his eyes wondering why he wanted to leave so suddenly since you just finished having lunch.

"Are you tired, mi campeon?" you asked knowing that this morning he had another long training but he didn't seem exhausted when you were getting ready to head to his family house?

"No..I just want to spend time with you" he said and you blush lightly chuckling a little remind him that you are spending time together all day at his family's house.

"But..but..they always steal you away from me..and I just wanna be with you!" he was definitely not exaggerating since his family really loves you and the moment you arrived, they all practically pulled you from one side of the house to another.

"Pablito, we haven't seen them in awhile..it would be rude to leave so soon after having lunch" you say and he nods knowing that you are right (you were always right) and knowing that he didn't want to disrespect his family.

"Give me un besito amor.." he sighed and just as you placed your lips on his, Belen called your name making Pablo groan while you chuckled leaving to see what the lady wanted.

For the rest of the night, Pablo clung to you not caring that you were talking to someone else, or watching pictures on his sister's phone. He was determined to spend time with you and wasn't going to leave your side!

"Gee let the girl breathe hermanito!" Aurora said and you quickly intervened knowing that would make Pablo self conscious and wondering weather he is really suffocating you which wasn't true at all.

"It's okay..I like it" you say with a blush and Pablo smiled smirking at his sister who rolled her eyes at his childish nature.

"You two are so adorable it's sickening!" she said when he kissed your shoulder and you giggled before going to find her own boyfriend.

"Finally she left..more besitos before someone else steals you!" Pablo made it a game to kiss whenever you could find some moments alone until someone would of course call your name and interrupt.

"Y/n! Let me show you the garden" Pablo's dad was next knowing your passion for gardening which he shared and Pablo smiled pecking your lips one more time before grabbing your hand and going with you.

"Three this time..not bad!" Pablo whispered referring to the number of stolen kisses in your moment of peace making you blush and giggle while joining his dad in the garden.

"Since when do you like gardening hijo? I couldn't get him in here for years..unless that one time he played fútbol and kicked the ball into my roses!" his father said and Pablo blushed a little while you giggled messing up his hair.

"So garden destroyer, you gonna destroy our garden one day too??" you said to him after leaving his dad and Pablo smirked moving closer to your ear before whispering "nope but our son will princesa" and that made your cheeks turn from slightly pink to bright red while he chuckled kissing your lips.

"Hey Y/n! Can I get your advice on this girl I met on Bumble?" one of Pablo's oldest friends asked making him groan and roll his eyes at him. What was this: try and snatch Pablo's girl away day!?

"She's not a dating coach, cabrón!" Pablo snickered but you hit his shoulder.

"But she is a girl and she knows what girls mean when they say weird things.." and that was true so you went to help him politely. Sometimes Pablo wished you weren't so polite!

"She doesn't like you, Marco..I'm sorry" you said after reading the messages while sitting on Pablo's lap cause he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Even I knew that.." Pablo added and you hit his shoulder again earning an eye-roll and a kiss on the side of your neck.

"How do you know??" Marco asked and you explained in a few simple sentences while he nodded opening his eyes wide.

"Yeah, this one kept me awake until five in the morning for a whole week..Xavi hated it..but I wouldn't fall asleep if my life depended on it!" Pablo said and you blushed remembering the silly game of 'who's going to hang up first' that you would play on face time resulting in both of you falling asleep talking to each other.

"I would lose most of the times.." you admit and Pablo nodded proudly.

"You would lose all of the time amor..that's how i fell in love with your snores!" he chuckled and you blushed shaking your head saying that he is lying.

"Am I really snoring??" you said afterwards when you were alone again and he kissed your lips shaking his head.

"Of course not but it was cute seeing your face flustered" he said and you smacked his shoulder calling him a 'cabrón' while he nodded kissing your lips and adding 'only your cabrón nena' and you smiled proudly at him.

"Y/n!!" someone called and Pablo groaned saying 'Here we go again!' while you chuckled and held his hand to walk towards the person calling you.

Once you were finally at home, cuddled up on the bed he pulled you close kissing the top of your head lovingly while you melted into his touch. It was truly your favorite time of the day when you could snuggle up to him and peacefully fall asleep.

"I love you so much nena..and I finally have you all to myself" he said and you smiled nodding your head and moving even closer until you could feel his hot breath on your neck and his nose buried taking a chance to enjoy your scent.

[nyxshadowhawk]

Hellenic Gods Fact Sheets and Hymns: Hecate

Other Names: Trivia, Brimo

Epithets: Anassa eneroi  (queen of those below), Aidonaia (lady of the Underworld), Amibousa (she who changes), Atalus (tender, delicate), Borborophorba (she who feeds on filth), Brimo (angry, terrifying), Despoina (mistress), Eileithyia (of childbirth), Enodia (of the roads), Epaine (dread), Euplokamos (bright-tressed), Khthonia (of the Underworld), Kleidouchos (keeper of the keys), Kourotrophos (protector of children), Krokopelos (saffron-robed), Liparokredemnos (bright-coiffed), Nycteria (nocturnal; of the night), Nyctipolos (night-wandering), Perseis (destroyer/ daughter of Perses), Phosphoros (light bearer), Propolos (guide), Propylaia (the one before the gate), Scylacagetis (leader of dogs), Soteira (savior), Trikephalos (three-headed/of the crossroads), Trimorphos (three-formed), Trioditis (of the three ways), Trivia (of the three ways).

Domains: Witchcraft, magic, necromancy, ghosts, nightmares, death, initiation, the crossroads, gateways, passage between worlds, and the night.

Appearance: [My UPG] A tall (over 6’) woman, neither young nor old, with waist-length black hair, pale skin, prominent cheekbones, a heavy jaw, and intense green eyes. She is usually dressed in black folds molded into a simple dress or robes. She has a severe expression and an intimidating presence. She speaks with a low voice.

Sacred Days and Festivals: Eleusinia (22 Metageitnion). Nemoralia (August 13th-15th). Deipnon, last day of each (lunar) month.

Symbols/Attributes: Torches, keys, daggers, strophalos (iynx wheel)

Sacred Animals: Dog, polecat, serpent, horse, frog.

Sacred Plants: Yew, cypress, garlic, willow, hazel, black poplar, aconite, belladonna, dittany, mandrake, hemlock, asphodel

Elemental Affinity: Darkness, light, fire

Planet: Moon

Colors: Black, saffron, silver.

Crystals: Black onyx, hematite, obsidian, black tourmaline, moonstone, smoky quartz, agate, amethyst.

Incense: Myrrh, almond, cypress, camphor, saffron, mugwort, pomegranate.

Tarot Cards: The High Priestess, The Moon, Death

Retinue: Empousai, ghosts of the dead, dogs, Lampades (torch-bearing underworld nymphs)

Associated People: Witches (and other magic-users), the dead

Offerings: Bread, eggs, honey, garlic, menstrual blood, graveyard dirt.

Syncretized With: Artemis, Diana, Persephone, Eileithyia, Selene, Nephthys, Ereshkigal, Nicnevin, Heqet

Hymns to Hecate

Orphic Hymn to Hecate

Hekate Enodia, Trivia, lovely dame, Of earthly, watery, and celestial frame, Sepulchral, in a saffron veil arrayed, Pleased with dark ghosts that wander through the shade; Daughter of Perses, solitary goddess, hail! The world’s key-bearer, never doomed to fail; In stags rejoicing, huntress, nightly seen, And drawn by bulls, unconquerable, monstrous queen; Leader, Nymphe, nurse, on mountains wandering, Hear the suppliants who with holy rites thy power revere, And to the herdsman with a favoring mind draw near.

Hecate’s Hymn to Herself

I come, a virgin of varied forms, wandering through the heavens, bull-faced, three-headed, ruthless, with golden arrows; chaste Phoebe bringing light to mortals, Eileithyia; bearing the three synthemata [sacred signs] of a triple nature.  In the Aether I appear in fiery forms and in the air I sit in a silver chariot, Earth reins in my black brood of puppies.

(From Porphyry’s lost commentary on the Chaldean Oracles, preserved by Eusebius of Caesaria in Praeparatio Evangelica. According to Porphyry, this hymn was composed by Hecate herself.)

Magical Invocation to Hecate

Approach, you of the netherworld, of earth, of heaven, Bombo! You by the wayside, at the crossroads, light-bearer, night-wanderer, Enemy of light, friend and companion of night, Rejoicing in the howl of dogs and in crimson gore, Lurking among the corpses and the tombs of lifeless dust, Lusting for blood, bringing terror to mortals, Grim one, Ogress [Mormo], Moon – you of many forms, May you come gracious to our sacrificial rites!

(Preserved in Refutation to All Heresies by Hippolytus)

Invocation to Hecate from PGM IV 2708-84

Come, giant Hecate, Dione’s guard, O Persia [daughter of Perses], Baubo Phroune, dart-shooter, Unconquered Lydian, the one untamed, Sired nobly, torch-bearing, guide, who bends down Proud necks, Kore, hear, you who’ve parted / gates Of steel unbreakable. O Artemis, Who, too, were once protectress, mighty one, Mistress, who burst forth from the earth, dog-leader, All-tamer, crossroad goddess, triple-headed, Bringer of light, august / virgin, I call you Fawn-slayer, crafty, O infernal one, And many-formed. Come, Hekate, goddess Of three ways, who with your fire-breathing phantoms Have been allotted dreaded roads and harsh / Enchantments, Hekate I call you

[…]

O Hekate of many names, O Virgin, Kore, Goddess, come, I ask, O guard and shelter of the threshing floor Persephone, O triple-headed goddess, Who walk on fire, cow-eyed BOUORPHORBE PANPHORBA PHORBARA AKITOPHI ERESHKIGAL / NEBOUTOSOUALETH Beside the doors, PYPYLEDEDEZO And gate-breaker; Come Hekate, of firey Counsel, I call you to my sacred chants.