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flowersforthemachines · 5 days ago

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Some facts about Lucanis (and also Spite and the Crows) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Emmrich, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Lucanis:

Family and the past:

Lucanis learnt to cook while helping the kitchen staff at the villa when he was a little boy. One of his motivations was learning how to make churros

Side note: Lucanis mentions that cioccolata calda was his favourite drink when he was a baby, and he serves churros to a romanced Rook who picks cioccolata calda as their favourite drink. It’s all coming together!

Lucanis wanted to be a Crow when he was a child (at least most of the time)

All of Lucanis's relatives were Crows as well, and all of them were killed by a rival Crow house

Lucanis says Caterina would be proud of Illario hiding his plans well, as well as killing her

Lucanis says that the hard part about setting Illario free would be convincing Caterina

Lucanis says that nightlife was more of Illario's thing, and he never got out as much

On Crows and Antiva:

Viago still stares daggers at Lucanis for throwing his (Viago's) pet snake out of the window in a dream

Lucanis doesn't like it when people confuse murder and assassination ("Murderers are hobbyists, we are professionals")

Lucanis has taken contracts in Orlais

Lucanis doesn’t know Treviso as well as he once used to

Heir didn’t train Lucanis

Lucanis says he has never killed an innocent “by his count” (other people may disagree)

Lucanis doesn’t think of the Crows as a “big organisation” (unlike the Inquisition) because they stab each other too much

Lucanis became a mage-killer at Caterina’s behest (she wanted to tap into new markets)

The nickname “The Demon of Vyrantium” came from Tevinter news-sheets, though Lucanis thinks Viago started it

Lucanis says that there aren't any special tricks to killing mages. Though, if nothing else works, you can try pissing them off, as that could attract a demon that would eat the mage

Lucanis once killed half a dozen venatori while stuck inside an elevator

Lucanis doesn’t consider himself a gentleman assassin, manners are less important than getting the job done

Lucanis sometimes spares his targets. He mentioned letting go of a servant who killed her master, as well as a 14-year-old boy. He thinks it’s wrong to kill people so young because they still have time to change

Lucanis doesn’t accept contracts without merit, and the merit is decided by the talon of the house

General:

Lucanis can make bread

Lucanis has never been to Ferelden

Lucanis isn’t interested in killing wyverns, just looking at them :)

Lucanis has a pet snake

Lucanis stays awake at night by cleaning his gear, exercising, studying Orlesian and knitting ("it’s just another kind of blade work")

Lucanis doesn’t understand a lot of things people find attractive

(In a conversation with Harding) Thinking about cooking was one of the things that helped Lucanis stay sane in the Ossuary (the other was thinking about killing his enemies)

(In a conversation with Davrin) Lucanis survived the Ossuary by shutting down and not thinking about anything except escaping

These two points sort of contradict each other. Either an inconsistency or Lucanis describing his experience differently to different people.

The Wetlands ruined at least one pair of Lucanis’s boots

(If Rook chooses to save Treviso) Lucanis offers to pay for any supplies the Shadow Dragons may need

Lucanis doesn't get a better bed because he's afraid of accidentally falling asleep

Lucanis can identify the killer’s weapon and the height difference between them and the target just through the blood splatter left at the scene

Lucanis considers Grey Wardens dangerous

Lucanis doesn’t like necromancy, because bringing people back to life is a waste of hard work

Lucanis finds the ice coffee from Minrathous offensive (Harding describes it as “snow, but made of coffee, sweet, and with cream and toffee sauce on top”)

Lucanis had never been in a romantic relationship before Rook/Neve

Relationships with other companions:

Lucanis gets into reading Bellara’s serials (very passionately - they chat about it a bunch)

Lucanis is outraged that the Veil Jumpers don’t get paid for their work and offers Bellara his contract negotiator

Lucanis made biscuits for Assan

Lucanis is sceptical that the griffons will be safe with the Wardens

Lucanis think that Assan shouldn’t go soft (referring to the time he took care of a halla) because he is a predator at heart

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Lucanis offers to hold a funeral for Manfred

Lucanis and Harding talk a lot about dreams (mostly silly things like showing up naked for the job, getting chased by someone/something etc.)

Lucanis thinks Harding is deadly with her bow

Lucanis offers to pay Harding for being his lookout/aide at the rate of 6000 gold per contract

Lucanis offers the help of his contract negotiator to Neve after he finds out she doesn't have one

Lucanis made deep-fried peppers for Taash

About Spite:

Emmrich can hear Spite even when he doesn’t take over Lucanis’s body (at least from a close distance)

Spite is impartial to Emmrich, believing him more than Lucanis

Emmrich says it’s impossible to separate Spite and Lucanis without killing them

Emmrich encourages Lucanis to read to Spite to bring them closer. Lucanis agrees to let Spite pick a book

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Spite asks if he and Lucanis can get rid of their skin too

(If Manfred is revived at the Necropolis) Spite asks Emmrich to teach him how to use fire magic. Lucanis isn’t thrilled by the idea

Emmrich sets up wards to prevent Spite from leaving the room when Lucanis is asleep

Spite no longer sleepwalks after “Inner Demons” because he apparently understood the concept of space

By the end of the game, Spite has agreed to stop sleepwalking completely

Spite controls the wings (confirmed in banter with Harding)

Spite wants to try swinging off the astrolabe at the Lighthouse

Spite is very excited about Manfred having hands and feet (Curiosity. Has. Feet!)

Spite finds the wisps in Neve’s room unnerving (as do Lucanis and Neve)

Spite likes to play with whetstones Bellara got for Lucanis (Bellara got them from the Irelin who supposedly got them from somewhere in Arlathan)

Spite wants to try eating self-lightning candles at Blackthorne Manor

About the Crows:

Crows frequently visit Nevarra and have received 20 contacts to assassinate the king. The King has been poisoned 7 times

Crows get a lot of contracts for Divine Victoria

Some seers in Rivain are powerful enough that there are contracts on them as well

Caterina once killed a man with a thimble

When Crows kill someone, most of the time they want others to know it was them (rather than presenting the death as an accident)

The crows buried six different Eight Talons and rarely take contracts in Ferelden after the Zevran fiasco

#dragon age the veilguard #dragon age #veilguard spoilers #lucanis dellamorte #neve gallus #caterina dellamorte #emmrich volkarin #spite #lace harding #datv banters #meta #references #flowers.txt

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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can you do a ficlet for ignorance is bliss snake with leah?

ignorance is bliss (2)

"morning wally." you greeted the swiss woman with a friendly smile, dropping into the vacant seat beside her with your tray of breakfast. "good morning, and where is your other half?" lia questioned with a raised eyebrow as you shrugged.

"around, i'm sure she'll be in for food sooner or later you know what she's like." you chuckled, the two of you falling into conversation about the luke coombs concert you were all going to later in the week.

"where's your wife then?" katie, amanda and stina joined the two of you as you finished off your toast and eggs. "she's just gotten here. good morning work wife!" you cooed, squeezing the irish womans cheeks who rolled her eyes. "ha ha, very funny."

"she's around." you once again shrugged off the question, turning your attention toward stina and amanda, chatting away with them for awhile as there was still no sign of

"i have to go see the physio before training." you excused yourself, grabbing your empty dishes. "yeah you better tape that ankle up tight, stina's out for blood." katie teased as the blondes face flushed bright red.

after a particularly awkward tackle earlier in the week at training with the swede your ankle had felt a little off, but after a scan you were cleared to train and to play, you just needed to listen to your body if anything got worse.

"ignore her stin! you know i said i wasn't upset, it was an accident." you cut off the older girl as she opened her mouth to likely ramble out her one hundreth apology for the week, having gone as far as to send you flowers which melted your heart, and softened leahs who was also ready to kill the poor girl afterwards.

"she might not be upset but leah is. maybe you should go and tape your ankle too in case big bad williamsons on the revenge tour." katie continued to tease as lia smacked her shoulder and you rolled your eyes.

"ignore her, she's just jealous you stopped a goal and its her fault her team conceeded one and lost." you smiled sarcastically, despite the tackle your team having come out victorious, katie unable to stop vic from scoring the winner in the last few seconds of the 11 on 11 game in training.

"oi!" you hurried off as katie scowled at you, blowing her a kiss and handing in your dishes with a complimentary smile, heading toward the medical room.

it wasn't more than two minutes later when your girlfriend stormed in, eyes scanning the room and narrowing further into her pissed off scowl as she was unable to spot you. "there you are! where have you been? breakfast is almost done?" lia scolded as leah arrived to the table.

"where is she?" the defender ignored her and asked bluntly, looking around the room but still unable to see you, but she knew you'd be here somewhere. "who? your missus? just missed her." katie shrugged unhelpfully as leah fixed her with a glare.

"physio. what has happened?" lia asked softly, grabbing the girls arm with a raised eyebrow of concern at her friends obvious sour mood. "can't tell you. i might need an alibi for once i've murdered her!" leah growled, shaking the swiss's hand off and storming away.

laura and teyah jumped in surprise as leah burst through the doors of the medical room, head swinging side to side and groaning as again there was no sight of you. "good morning!" laura greeted with a friendly smile as leah marched over, teyah grumbling the same though a little more hesitantly at the pissed off look on her team mates face.

"where is she?" leah asked, hands on hips as the physio responded you'd been taped and had just left to go downstairs to see one of the training staff about if they wanted you to do a specific program.

"is everything alright leah?" teyah asked with a frown, the blonde dismissing her with a mumble and a wave and zooming out of the room. "i think we might have a new regular in here with us for treatment soon lau." the blonde chuckled as laura hummed in agreement.

"hey there is a speed limit here you know." viv chuckled as leah sprinted into the gym, again looking around frantically and groaning, wanting to yank her hair out as again it would seemed she just missed you.

"she went out to the pitch." kim answered, sensing her and viv weren't who leah was currently after as leah mumbled something along the lines of a thank you and made her hasty exit.

"hey! eat this please." lia warned, grabbing leahs wrist as she zoomed past her, halting her in her tracks and shoving a protein bar in her hand. "leah." the swiss midfielder warned sternly as leah tried to hurry off.

with a huff she fell into step with her, ripping open the bar and taking an aggressively large bite. "are you going to tell me what has happened now?" lia questioned with a glance to her side, leah exhaling heavily as she finished her mouthful and they strode onto the pitch.

"fuck well it all started this morning-" leah started to explain however as she glanced up and her blue eyes locked onto the back of her head she was once more fueled with rage. "leah!" lia groaned as she dropped the remaining half of her protein bar and sprinted across the pitch toward you.

"what have you done this time?" beth questioned suddenly as you stretched, giving her a confused look. "what?" you asked with a frown. "well your girlfriend is flyin over here and she looks like she's about to kill you in five, four, three-" beth started to count down as you stood and glanced over your shoulder, eyes widenening.

"oh no you don't!" leah chuckled as you tried to run, her body hurtling into yours and taking the two of you down onto the grass, rolling and wrestling around before you were pulled apart. "mccabe, move." leah warned as you hid behind the irishwoman.

"katie, stay." you warned, hands grabbing her waist. "work wife duties, sorry lee." the brunette shrugged, leah scoffing and lunging forward before jen and lia pulled her back.

"right okay what has happened? explain!" lia ordered sternly as you peeked over katie's shoulder, stepping out from behind her seeing the firm grip jen had on your girlfriends bicep.

"whats happened? whats happened? go on then, tell them! tell them what you did!" leah scowled, pulling against jen but having no luck. "i didn't do anything you didn't deserve." you shrugged simply, diving back behind katie as a human shield as leah broke free before jen grabbed her again.

"okay enough! you first, go." lia ordered, fixing leah with a stern glare as she opened her mouth to protest. "she made me fucking walk to colney this morning!" leah pointed at you accusingly as lia looked at you in shock.

"don't start on me wally. she's being dramatic, as per usual." you scoffed, leah letting fly a string of choice words in your direction, her language creatively colorful. "explain." lia sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose like a disappointed parent.

"well as we all know miss fast and furious williamson over here has her license currently suspended, for what? repeated speeding offences!" you huffed with a roll of your eyes. "which makes me the driver in the relationship."

"but she is the worst backseat fucking driver in existence! babe you're going top slow, babe you're going the wrong way, babe just listen to me i can get us there faster, babe i'd like to get there before i'm thirty." you mocked your girlfriends thick accent with a scowl.

"and this morning i had enough! so yeah i stopped on the side of the road about two minutes from colney and made her walk. and until she apologizes and learns how to be a silent and respectful passenger, she will continue to walk everywhere!" and with that you stormed off, joining a few of the other girls for warm ups as far away from leah as you could get.

"leah, the poor girls doing you a favor and this is how ya treat her? i'd make you walk too!" katie remanded with a shake of her head as leah groaned and jen let go of her, the blonde dragging her hands down her face.

"nah you don't understand how frustrating she is. she drives like a grandma well under the speed limit, never listens to my directions, takes the longest routes just because thats what the gps says. she stops at every single orange, gives way to everyone and lets anyone merge even when they are an absolutely pushy asshole about it." leah vented in frustration.

"so she is...a safe driver." lia asked bluntly as leah scoffed repeatedly struggling to come up with a response. "leah. you lost your license for speeding, something she was always warning you about. what would you do if she ever got into an accident?" lia questioned as her friends face paled.

"i don't ever want to even think about that." "right. so then how do you think she felt worrying about you anytime you were behind the wheel and speeding without a second thought?" "yeah alright, you may have a point." leah groaned realising she was the one in the wrong here, her previous anger fast dissipating away.

however now it seemed to be your turn, as despite her many attempts to talk to you throughout training you blanked her at every chance you got, right up until the end of the day where you'd dropped her gym bag at her feet and striding off without a word.

"need a lift?" katie had asked with an amused smile, twirling her keys around on her fingers as leah sighed deeply but nodded, following her out to her car.

"good luck." the irishwoman chuckled as leah mumbled a thank you as she dropped her off, dragging her feet up the driveway. she let herself in with her keys, nose hit with the scent of lavender from your diffuser and hearing the telly going in the living room.

kicking off her trainers and hanging up her bag she gripped the flowers in her hand that she'd made katie stop for, padding over to where she found you laid down on the lounge, already showered and changed.

"so i might owe you an apology." leah started, your head whipping toward her with a hard look. "i do owe you an apology." leah quickly corrected herself, moving to stand closer. "i am very very sorry for being a shit passenger and a big mouthed backseat driver." leah apologized sincerely.

"it's my own fault that i've not got a license and i need to be grateful for the fact that you do and that you drive me everywhere. i love you and i promise that as soon as my license is back no more speeding." leah promised, eyes shining brightly as you sighed, unable to stay mad at her for very long.

"are those for me?" you asked softly with a nod at the flowers in her hand. "beautiful girls deserve beautiful flowers for putting up with their girlfriends nonesense." leah held them out to you as you sat up and accepted them.

"don't forget their girlfriends stubbornness, recklessness and overall downright sometimes just annoying behavior." you spoke but with a smile so leah knew you were only joking. "yes, that too. are we okay?" leah worried, sitting down beside you as you nodded.

"yeah, we're okay baby. but if you ever tell me how to drive again i will not even hesitate to actually make you walk all the way from here to colney." "understood my girl, very much understood."

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso blurbs #leah williamson #engwnt #woso fanfics #woso

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scribere-flores · 4 months ago

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Sabo x Reader

~Just as a hypothetical question~

Part 5. Other Parts Word count: 3,8k words Short summary: Reader is preparing her escape, slowly losing it over her confusing feelings. Sabo is in his stalker era. AN: Dear God, I don't know what took over me when writing this. Let me begin with saying I don't condone stalking irl, this is just a silly self-indulgent fic. There is also mentions of a knife at one point, more as a joke, but it's there. Still nothing graphic. Smut will come in the next one, which will also be the last part. Thank you for reading!💕

MDNI 18+

(This man is way too pretty for his own good)

___

Almost three days had passed since Y/N became aware of Sabo’s true identity. And of the real threat he posed to her. He was dangerous, not just because he probably could crush her windpipe with little to no effort.

No, the real reason Sabo was so dangerous was because of his goddamn charm. Always helpful, always making her flustered. Always making her laugh against her will. It was still impossible for her to keep it together when she was near him.

He was playing a sick, sadistic game with her feelings. He wanted to kill her for god sake! And, even though those horrid facts were clear to her, Y/N’s heart still wanted to jump out of her chest every time she saw him.

And that was probably saying more about how messed up she was. Desperately clinging to the first person that ever showed her concern, even though she knew it was fake. Pathetic.

She kept having this one recurring dream. Being alone in a dark room, until the door suddenly opens, and Sabo walks with a smug grin on his face.

He stands behind her, places her wrists behind her back, and then proceeds to let his hands travel all over her body. Cold leather from his gloves caressing her skin as he presses soft kisses down her neck and back.

His movements growing more impatient as he takes a strong grip around her hair, pulling her against him. Then, just before the dream ends, his other hand snakes around her neck, cutting the air from entering her lungs.

And it excites her! Y/N always wakes up feeling hot and tingly after that dream, which means that something must be seriously wrong with her.

The man wants to kill her and she gets excited by the thought of him choking her?! That can’t be normal, it just can’t.

Besides her internal crises that she still had the hots for her future potential murderer, everything else was going as planned.

After spending a half-day crying over the fact that the handsome, cruel man had tricked her just for his own pleasure, Y/N finally pulled herself together and started planning her escape. She was not willingly staying in this cursed base just to later be dragged to the execution stand.

So she had made a list, things she needed to secure her safety once she left. All the things she had spent the last few days gathering. Things that now were securely kept in a bag in her closet.

She had also visited the small library more than once, reading every book on wilderness survival she could find. Memorizing pictures of what plants were safe to eat and which ones she should avoid. It wouldn’t exactly be ideal if she ran away from torture and her own murder, just to then die of food poisoning.

Y/N had done all these things, and she was painfully aware of the fact that she had been watched.

Sabo was always near, following her like some curious cat, trying to figure out what the mouse he was hunting was doing. She was the mouse in this scenario, and it was starting to get on her last nerve.

He looked amused the entire time too, huge grin on his face, probably getting some twisted sense of pleasure from watching her from afar. It was annoying, and Y/N was pretty sure stalking counted as a crime. But so was trying to overthrow the World Government, so Sabo might just not care that he was breaking the law.

It didn’t matter anyways, she had already gathered everything she needed and her planned escape was happening tomorrow.

She was currently pacing back and forth in her room, trying to figure out if she had forgotten about something.

Who was she kidding, she most definitely had.

She hadn’t stepped foot outside the castle gates her entire life before two weeks ago, and now she was planning to survive out in the wilderness all by herself. It was a recipe for disaster.

But if the choice was between dying of hypothermia in freedom, or in the hands of the Revolutionary Army and her handsome tormentor, Y/N would choose freezing cold freedom everyday of the week.

Suddenly, her dark thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

“Jane Doe, you in there?” An obnoxious, honey-sweet voice could be heard on the other side.

Hate that stupid nickname.

He seriously needed to stop doing this. For the last couple of mornings, at the same time everyday, Sabo had knocked on her door, asking if she was there.

And Y/N never answered, pretending that she wasn’t in the room. He usually stayed outside for a few minutes before he left, which was probably going to be the case today too.

She heard Sabo let out a deep sigh.

“I don’t know if you’re there, but I’m coming in.” He stated, like he wasn’t about to invade the last personal space she had at this godforsaken base.

Goddamnit… She had locked the door, right?

No, this wasn’t the time to take any chances, she needed to hide. Who knew what god awful thing he would do to her if he found her.

Y/N quickly scanned the room for a hiding spot. Under the bed was too obvious, even she knew that. As her eyes landed on the small built-in closet, she heard the doorknob starting to turn. She didn’t have the time to be picky, she needed to hide, now!

Just as she had slid the closet shut, the bedroom door flew open. The small wooden planks of the closet door barely gave her any vision of the room, but the gap was wide enough to see Sabo mindlessly walk in. Not a care in the world, like he belonged in there.

‘He wishes.’ Y/N thought as she rolled her eyes.

Then she noticed that he was looking at the closet, straight at her, with a serious look that spelled nothing but trouble. She could swear that her heart was trying to crack her ribcage open by how hard it was beating.

She put her hands over her mouth, careful to not make a sound, as Sabo’s eyes lingered on her hiding spot for a few more seconds. Then an amused grin spread over his face, before he turned around and started to look around her room.

Dear God, that had been a close call.

“Are you hiding from me, Angel?” Sabo chuckled, bending down to look under the bed.

Since his blatant fake confession he had called her that from time to time. Some new way to play tricks on her mind for sure. And Y/N always berated herself when she heard it, because it made her stupid heart flutter every time.

Seriously, what was wrong with her?

Besides studying up on how to survive on her own, she had read a few books on psychology during her visits to the library. In those she had learned about this thing called *Stockholm Syndrome*, basically when a captive believes they are in love with their capturer.

And Y/N had let out a sigh of relief when she read that. It explained every warm feeling she had for the man that she was 95% sure wanted to chop her head off in front of a crowd. The other 5%, well… that was the dumb sliver of hope that still lingered in the back of her mind.

A sliver of hope that she consciously ignored. She wasn’t in her right mind, she had been manipulated by that handsome devil, and the strange thoughts she had about him couldn’t be trusted.

She had to stick to what she knew, and that was that Revolutionaries hated Nobles with a burning passion. At least, that had to be the case when the revolutionary in question was their Second in Command.

The closet walls were starting to feel cramped as she continued to watch Sabo mindlessly prance around her bedroom. He picked up her pillow, brought it to his face and let out a low groan as he took a deep inhale through his nose, making Y/N really question the man’s sanity. Was he trying to memorize her scent in case he had to hunt her down?

What was he? A goddamn bloodhound or something?

She let out a quiet scoff when he put the pillow back, seeing a satisfied look on his face. She shouldn't have done that.

His eyes zeroed in on her again, a wicked smile spreading over his lips, making Y/N forget how to breathe.

A shiver went down her spine as she watched Sabo move closer, stopping right outside the closet. He was so close she could feel him towering over her through the door.

“Are you in here, Angel? Please answer if you are.”

Dear God, please don’t open it.

Someone was apparently listening to her prayer, since he abruptly turned around, when Y/N was just seconds from passing out due to the lack of air in her lungs.

“Bummer, guess she’s not here then.” Sabo said in a monotone voice, putting his hand to his cheek in a dramatic manner.

He started to walk towards the door. She couldn’t believe it, she was actually going to get through this without being found.

Then, Sabo stopped in the middle of his step, right as he walked by her dresser. He carefully opened the top draw, which wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.

“Hmm… I might as well since I’m already here.” He snickered as he took something out and stuffed it in his pocket, quickly leaving the room right after.

As soon as the bedroom door closed, Y/N fell out of the closet and landed on the floor. Too shocked from what she just had witnessed.

“Did- did he just steal my underwear?” She whispered to herself, as she felt a warm flush spread over her face.

Was Sabo a pervert?

Because that would explain sooo much. She laid on the floor, pondering on her theory for a few moments, before she rolled over on her back and let out a weird, nervous laugh.

“Yes, definitely a pervert… Just gonna add that to the list of reasons why he needs to be avoided at all cost.” Y/N concluded, questioning how she had gotten herself in this situation to begin with.

___

So fucking angelic.

There was no other way of describing her. Even though she had actively been avoiding him for the past few days and making him watch her from afar.

But Sabo could forgive that. She was obviously planning something, and the most optimistic part of himself had convinced him that it was going to be a surprise.

He didn’t know what kind of surprise yet, but he looked forward to it. A little too much in fact.

He had watched his Angel gather all sorts of things, swiping snacks from the pantry when she thought no one was looking. Snatching blankets and other fabrics from the laundry, candles and matches from the storage.

All things that were needed for a romantic date.

Sabo still wasn’t sure why she needed all the tools she stole from the supply closet, nor did he understand what she was going to use a tarp for.

But he almost lost his shit yesterday when he saw her sneak a rope into her bag. If his, quite frankly, dirty mind was right and she wanted him to tie her up with it, he might have to marry her on the spot.

The knife however, that was still a bit concerning… But hey, he was willing to try out whatever she had in mind at least once.

No matter what she was doing, these past few days had convinced him.

She had continued to play their little game, even though the rules had changed a bit. AND, she was planning a romantic surprise for him. That girl understood him so well.

She liked him, maybe just as much as he liked her, if that even was possible.

Sabo knew his obsession was starting to get a little out of hand. Or in all honesty, “a little” would be an understatement.

He knew that what he was doing wasn’t exactly normal. Watching her go about her day, keeping tabs on where she was, at what time in the morning she was leaving her bedroom and when she usually returned. Putting it in a more brutal way, he was stalking her.

God- that girl brought out dark things in him he wasn’t even aware were there before. Last night he spent at least two hours convincing himself that, sneaking into her room through her window while she was sleeping, wasn’t a good idea.

It wasn’t, he knew that. No matter how much that girl had messed with his moral compass, he knew that it would be crossing a line.

But he just wanted to hear the sweet voice he had been deprived of hearing for the last few days, even if it was her yelling at him to get out.

That’s why he went to see her this morning, to talk to her. Not about anything special, he just wanted to see her pretty mouth move, until his mind was filled with nothing but the sweet sound of her voice.

Sabo knew she had been in there, observation haki really becoming handy in these kinds of situations. But she hid in her closet when he stepped into her room.

And if she wanted to play Hide and Seek, who was he to deprive her of that fun?

Plus, he had gotten a little prize for playing along.

Still, things had started to become a little boring for him.

At first, it had been exciting seeing her turn a corner every time he was near. Watching her look over her shoulder to see if he was there. It was twisted- but fuck- just knowing she was constantly thinking about him brought him so much joy.

Even if she was doing it in an attempt to avoid him, Sabo couldn’t be mad about it. She was obviously still trying to muster up the courage to face him after his blatant confession.

It was cute.

He had imagined her confessing her feelings for him so many times at this point. Nervous stutters leaving her mouth, a flustered blush spreading over her face.

God- Just the thought made him want to do unspeakable things to that poor girl.

And in any normal case, Sabo was nothing but patient. With her however, not so much.

Like previously stated, watching her had been fun for a while. But he was done with just watching now, he wanted to be with her. Being close to her, talking to her, teasing her. Seeing her smile, laugh or just resting peacefully on his chest.

So, at this moment he was in the library, hiding behind a bookshelf and going over his options on how to best approach her.

Jane Doe was sitting at a table a bit further away, reading a book in peace. Looking absolutely angelic.

Besides the two of them, the rest of the room was empty. And dammit, if there hadn’t been so many unresolved issues that needed to be sorted out first, he would probably pin her to that table right this moment.

Hitching that cute, little skirt up over her hips as he left kisses up and down her gorgeous legs. Teasing her to the brink of insanity until she begged him to touch her. Eating her out like a man starved for food-

Yeah, that was definitely not happening yet.

The second best option was to go over there, trying to make her flustered enough to at least blush. Which shouldn’t be too hard to achieve.

So Sabo did just that, walking over with a statement that was suggestive enough in mind. He stopped right behind her chair, bending down close to her ear, feeling a bit amused when he saw her flinch.

“You know, I had this dream last night- and fuck- your hands felt so soft against my skin. Like an Angel touching my very soul.” He said in a low voice, blowing a puff of hot air against her neck.

It was true, he really dreamt that last night. He had been kinda pissed off when he woke, not wanting the wonderful dream to end.

And he knew how much his little nickname affected her, she was so bad at hiding her true feelings.

“Dear God, why?” The girl asked under her breath, making Sabo chuckle as he walked over to the other side of the table, sitting down across from her.

“Why? Cause you’re cute, and funny, and ignoring me. So you’re obviously my type.” He stated, watching her mindlessly turn to the next page in her book.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” She answered, looking up at him for the first time.

“Perfect.” Sabo sighed, getting completely lost in her eyes.

He barely had the chance to catch the pretty blush that spread over her face, before she turned her head down.

But it was there, he saw it, and it made his chest fill with pride. No matter how hard she tried to ignore him, he could still make her flustered anytime he wanted to.

“Are you bothered by me being here?” He asked, giving her a teasing smile.

“Yes. I want to be alone.” She said curtly in response, not paying him more attention than necessary.

It was selfish, and probably a bit dumb. But Sabo wanted her attention to be on him, and not on some stupid book. What was so interesting about it anyways, for her to not look at him? He was way more interesting-

God, he really needed to seek professional help, didn't he? He was jealous over a fucking book.

“What are you reading anyway?” He scoffed, failing to keep his displeasure in.

“None of your business.” She snapped back, voice deprived of any warmth.

Shit, was she annoyed? That couldn’t be good…

“Why are you so snappy today?” Sabo asked, needing to know if all of it was just in his head.

“I’m not.” She bit out, jaw visibly clenching.

If it was one thing Sabo took pride in, it was that he was good at reading people. But not this girl apparently, making her an exception in yet another way.

He must have fucked up big during the last couple of days for her to be this mad with him. Was it the stalking? Had he taken it too far?

“Yes you are. Did I do something to make you upset? I’ll try to fix it if you tell me.” He said, trying to reach for her hand, but she quickly moved it away.

“I said I’m not. Just drop it.”

Was this their first fight?

Sabo might not have been in any real long term relationship before, but he wanted this to work. He needed this to work, because he wasn’t sure if he could recover from being rejected by her.

He knew that communication was important in any healthy relationship, so her avoiding the topic wasn’t going to cut it.

“I will drop it, if you tell me what’s wrong. I don’t want you to be angry at me and-”

“Can you just back the fuck off and leave me alone?” She said with an irritated tone, looking up at him with fire in her eyes.

Oh fuck, she’s mad mad.

She swore… she actually swore. That was a word Sabo thought he never would hear leave his Angel's beautiful mouth.

Was this about the underwear? He knew she had been hiding in the closet when he “borrowed” them, but he didn’t think she would be this angry about it.

“Is this about what I took from your room? Because I was going to give-”

“IT’S NOT ABOUT THE FUCKING UNDERWEAR!”

“Okay, so I must have done something else then… I'm sorry?” He said, feeling his heart sink to his stomach.

She didn’t say anything more. She just let out a frustrated groan as she slammed the book shut, leaving it on the table and walked away. Leaving him alone with nothing but his own thoughts.

Goddamnit!

He messed up, this was not how he wanted things to go. Had he been wrong the entire time? Had she actually been mad at him, and was that the reason she avoided him to begin with? Had they not just been playing their usual silly game?

Fuck, maybe had he come on too strong three days ago. He did choke her, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that was the reason. But she said she liked it, right?

Sabo was about to go crazy, trying to figure out what he did wrong, when his eyes landed on the green cover of the book she had been reading.

He picked it up, curiosity getting the better of him.

“ *Outdoor Survival for Beginners*- what the actual?” He flipped through the pages, as something clicked in his brain. “Shit-”

Jane Doe was planning on running away…

It all made sense now. Why she avoided him, why she had gathered all those different things. Why she had been so defensive just moments ago.

(Why she hadn’t told him she liked him too.)

She was leaving, and she didn’t want anything left behind. It made sense, he would do the same thing if he knew he was leaving. It was plain cruel to confess your feelings to someone, just to be gone a few days later.

That’s why he had confessed to her. He wasn’t exactly planning on leaving her anytime soon, and he wanted her to know that.

Still, the only thing that didn’t make sense was her reason. Why would she want to run away?

She liked it here, Sabo saw how happy she looked whenever she helped around the base. How well she got along with Koala. How peaceful she had looked that morning when she slept on his chest.

In fact, why was she even hiding her identity to begin with? He hadn’t thought about it more than in passing, his mind usually being too preoccupied with holding his urges back around her.

Something wasn’t right…

“I might have to speed some things up.” Determination took over him.

Her plan was batshit crazy to begin with. She couldn’t even cook, how the fuck was she going to survive alone in the woods? She would die, hungry, freezing and alone, within a couple of days.

Sabo couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone he cared for again. Not after Ace-

No. This wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

He had a few very urgent house calls to make.

___

Tag list: @nymeriiiia

#one piece fanfiction #sabo x reader #x reader #sabo smut #one piece smut #fanfic #sabo #revolutionary sabo

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beansmack2021 · 10 months ago

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All For You (Human!Alastor x Daughter! Reader)

TW: Implied cannibalism, mentions of murder, blood, mentions of snakes, mentions of vomit

Alastor would be a great father, even with his serial killer tendencies

It was raining a bit. Whenever it rained, Y/N's father insisted that the two sit in the living room and listen to the radio together. He'd read the paper while she'd finish yet another novel.

Alastor was a kind and loving father. Y/N would come home from school to venison on the stove top. He'd plant a kiss on her forehead and she'd put her schoolbag in her room before returning to the table for dinner.

She'd never suspected that there was a monster wearing her father's skin.

She was feeling under the weather, her skin hot to the touch. She'd gone to see the school nurse, who told her that she should go home early. Y/N stumbled along, dizzy and warm, and was short of breath by the time she'd finally made it home.

She opened the door, expecting to see her father on the sofa, reading the paper and listening to the radio. She dropped her bag on the floor with a loud thud. Her father wasn't on the sofa. He was on his knees, on the floor, carving up a human carcass.

He looked up at her, smile never once leaving his face. "Hello, dear! You're home early." He stood up, hands still bloody, and walked over to the sink. He scrubbed at his palms with soap, dried them on a dishrag, and walked over to where she still stood, staring open-mouthed at what looked to be the dead body of the man that lived down the street.

"Daddy, what... what is this?" She didn't flinch as Alastor squatted a bit so their faces would be more level.

"Your cheeks are awfully rosie, darling. Are you feeling alright?" Y/N shook her head. Alastor put his palm to her forehead and frowned. "Seems you have a fever. Straight to bed with you, young lady. I'll make some soup for dinner."

How could he not acknowledge the scene his daughter had walked into? He'd pretended that everything was completely fine, nothing out of the ordinary.

Alastor ushered her down the hallway, to her bedroom, and tucked her into bed. He put his hand to her head again, and she couldn't help but close her eyes and sigh with relief at how cold his palms felt. "Would you like me to bring you a damp cloth, dear?"

Anything to get him away from her. She decided, in her sickly haze, that she wasn't well enough to fight him off. She needed to bide some time. She needed to seem unbothered by what she'd seen.

Alastor stood from the edge of her mattress and went to the kitchen, where she could hear the water running. He came back, put the washcloth on her forehead, and told her he'd be back later with medicine and her supper.

She nodded and hummed. She wanted desperately to stay awake, to stay conscious so that she could be aware of whatever her father might do, but she couldn't help slipping into unconsciousness.

When she woke up, it was darker outside. She felt a shiver down her spine and pulled the cloth from her forehead, dropping it on the floor next to her bed. She coughed hoarsely and heard a knock at the door before Alastor slipped into the room.

"Hello, darling. How are we feeling?" Y/N stayed silent, not sure she could trust herself enough not to say "terrified to be in the same room with my murderer father."

"Well, I brought you some soup. It's vegetable broth and ground meat." Y/N had the briefest thought slip through her mind that her father might be trying to serve her the man that she'd seen on the ground earlier and felt sick again.

"Daddy, I'm gonna be sick," she managed to rush out. Alastor quickly grabbed the pail by her bedside and held it up for her. She threw up into the bin and teared up a bit as her father soothed her. He was so good to her, how could he be such a terrible monster? How could her father be a killer?

"I don't think you're quite ready for my soup, dear. Maybe it's time for some medicine."

Y/N nodded, watching her father leave the room, and realized this might be her one and only chance to escape and tell someone what her father has done. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, forcing herself to sit upright. She wanted to throw up again, but she needed to get out and her father would hear her retching, run in and stop her.

She stumbled down the hall and through the back door. She took off running into the woods that surrounded her home, feeling worse by the minute as her head pounded and her weak lungs took in air. She just needed to make it through the woods and to the morning.

She suddenly heard her father call out to her into the open and air and her blood went cold. She knew he'd follow her. She knew he'd know her plan. She wasn't just running anymore. She was being chased.

Her head was throbbing now, and her feet were cut open by sharp stones that littered the ground in the forest. She could hear twigs snapping behind her and knew that her father was gaining on her. She risked a glance back and saw him less than one hundred feet away.

"Y/N! Dear, you're not well! Please!"

Y/N faced forward and realized too late that she was coming up on a massive upended root. She fell forward, landing on her forearm. She screamed as she felt a bone snapping.

"Y/N!" It was odd, really. Finding out that her father was a murderer had absolutely ruined Y/N, but she didn't expect him to care for her when she was injured while trying to tell the world his crimes.

She hadn't stopped screaming before she felt the snake bite her ankle. Her father finally caught up to her, and she gasped in pain. She could feel her throat closing.

"Da-Daddy. Daddy, help. It h-hurts."

Alastor pulled the young girl into his lap, rocking her as tears filled his eyes.

"Baby girl, why did you run? You know I'd never hurt you."

She clawed at her throat as she could feel it closing. She was running out of time, and Alastor knew it.

"I did it for you, Y/N. All of those people. They were bad. I was making the world better for you. My baby. I love you, so so much. Please don't leave me."

Y/N's vision blurred and darkened, and she tried to croak out an "I love you", but nothing came out. The last thing she heard before her eyes closed for good was the sound of a gun firing from close by.

#hazbin hotel x platonic reader #alastor #hazbin fanfic #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #x reader #platonic #alastor being a good dad

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gallifreyanhotfive · 5 months ago

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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 63

Adric had programmed the route back to E-Space into the TARDIS before he died. When the TARDIS came close into a CVE, Adric set the program to automatically travel into E-Space, specifically to Alzarius. This is how the Fifth Doctor, Tegan, Nyssa, and Turlough ended up in E-Space. (Audio: Mistfall)

The Eighth Doctor once took a ton of a drug called Om-Tsor in order to psychically stop a lot of missiles. (Novel: Revolution Man)

Meglos considers himself to be the Doctor's greatest enemy because the Doctor only defeated him once (while they have defeated Daleks, etc many times). (Short story: Meglos)

The Seventh Doctor hates swimming. (Novel: The Also People)

After Sabbath removed the Eighth Doctor's heart and implanted it into his own chest, the Doctor could not die. Even when he was absolutely crushed by sandbags, one of his hearts was still beating in Sabbath's chest, so he would survive. (Novel: Camera Obscura)

The Brigadier liked Persephone a lot. As in he fell in love with her. As in fighting Hades for her. As in kissing her. As in thinking that she had a perfect bum and that she was both delicious and delectable. Yeah. (Novel: Deadly Reunion)

One time, Ace mentioned that it was a bit of a coincidence that both Gallifrey and America had a "CIA." Narvin said she could think it was a coincidence if she wanted and that his people "get around," thus implying that there are ties between the two. (Audio: The Quantum Possibility Engine)

The Mara once possessed Kamelion through Tegan's subconscious. Kamelion assumed the form of a Gorgon and used his abilities to turn people into stone. (Short story: Mark of the Medusa)

One time, the Eighth Doctor tried to get his companion Izzy to go exploring in a new city with him, but she was too busy reading a history book on it. Annoyed after arguing with her, the Doctor explored by himself, going into a jam shop only to find that the merchant had been murdered by a guy with a hook for a hand. While trying to remove the hook, the Doctor was knocked unconscious, so when the police came, he was found with the dead body and the murder weapon. He was charged with several murders and sentenced to die, but Izzy was able to phone in a tip using information she knew from the history book to vindicate him just before he was executed. (Comic: By Hook or By Crook)

If the Valeyard had beaten the Sixth Doctor during their battle in the Matrix, he would have messed with time so dramatically that it would become catastrophically damaged. Eventually, he would have left hiding away in his TARDIS, afraid that any action he took would make things worse. The TARDIS would have confined him inside, immobilized with force fields. The TARDIS would only still be alive due to the symbiotic nuclei connecting her to her pilot, and the Valeyard would only be alive because of his connection to his TARDIS. Unable to do anything, they (including Mel) would be trapped there seemingly forever. (Audio: He Jests At Scars...)

Fitz Kreiner had a dream where he and the Eighth Doctor were both naked in the TARDIS console room, their bottoms touching each other's. The Dream Doctor made sure to tell him that he didn't think this was his subconscious telling him anything about his sexuality. He panicked when he realized he couldn't feel the Doctor's bottom anymore - which was because they were merging into one. (Novel: Halflife)

The Mara eventually entered the Fifth Doctor's mind, using him as a primary host to try to subjugate Manussa in an earlier time period. He was freed when Tegan and Turlough used a circle of cameras and screens (similar to the mirrors). (Audio: The Cradle of the Snake)

The Eighth Doctor, Anji, and Fitz were once made to wear collars and leashes while walking around on all fours naked. They had been provided with plastic chew toys. The Doctor and Fitz didn't appear to be bothered by this. (Novel: Mad Dogs and Englishmen)

The Eighth Doctor once commented that he could potentially have a bunny slipper fetish. (Novel: Grimm Reality)

While on Trenzalore, the Eleventh Doctor lost a leg while fighting a tsunami snake. (Short story: The Dreaming)

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rotworld · 3 months ago

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4: Game of Chance

art by @exorbitantsqueakingnoises

if you bring the prince of flowers an offering, he might grant you good fortune, a year of bountiful harvests or a magic seed that will sprout into a sprawling orchard with the most succulent fruits. he might just kill you where you stand. all godlings are fickle, but he is worse than any other. if you want to come back from this alive, you'll have to find out why.

->original work. explicit; contains noncon (transactional/extreme power imbalance/aphrodisiacs), murder, implied necrophilia, terato.

She must’ve tried to run. You saw the fabric scraps, bits of woven shawl and the ragged remains of a dress caught in the thorn-claws of the forest. You saw her tracks, too, deep heel gouges where she ducked and spun, where she fought as hard as she could against something she was never going to beat. There’s a smeared spot, the telltale last stand. Like the final featherlight prints of a rabbit seized by a hawk. Like the place a deer stumbles, where a wolf pack descends with all their viciousness and hunger. She fell and flattened the grass, screamed and flailed and raked her fingers through the earth leaving desperate handprints and broken nails behind. The rest of the trail is wet and red. Still fresh, it glistens like dew.

You find what’s left of her in the heart of the forest. Eyes shut and lips slightly parted, she could simply be sleeping if not for where she’s been wrenched open and unraveled, torn more neatly than fang and claw should allow. Her ribs have turned to garden arches, small white trellises coiled by grasping stems. Wildflowers sprout in the fleshy seedbed beneath, heart and lungs tenderized into slick, veiny soil. Skin sloughs away and soft tissues vanish the lower your eyes wander until there’s nothing left but scattered bones. Plump, shiny berries grow on either side of a partially-buried spine. Mushroom bulbs peek through the spaces of a pelvis.

You glimpse snaking movements. Squirming in the organic mush of her chest. Slithering shapes where she still has skin, the slow, worm-like crawl of something bulging in her throat. Dark briar tendrils wind possessively tight around her, thorns biting deep.

There’s a terrible, stomach-churning noise, so quiet you wouldn’t have noticed if the sight of her hadn’t frozen you completely still. It’s a muffled gurgling. Choked, squelching rasps. A drowning death rattle. “Hhhhhnghgk…nnnnnhguuuuhh…” Bile crawls up your throat when her eyelids flutter and one finger twitches.

“Oh my. Another one?”

You tear your eyes away from her. You see him watching you where the trees cluster close and the flowers are always in bloom, where the stone-speckled path you’ve been following ends. Cherroveth, Prince of Flowers, smiles softly.

“So many visitors today,” he muses, leaning against the trunk of an enormous tree. “So many gifts.”

Like all godlings, he is breathtakingly beautiful. Earthy brown hair spills over his shoulders and down his back, adorned with spring blossoms and sweet-smelling summer petals. His pointed ears are pierced in several places, strung through with gemstones and a dangling, golden chain. His eyes change in light and shadow; sometimes graying pine, sometimes vivid shamrock, sometimes shimmery basil leaf or deep moss. He wears little, allowing you to see the squiggling lines and spiral markings adorning his divine flesh. Loose, flowing sashes tied around his waist barely conceal his toned backside, every movement threatening to reveal the apex of his firm thighs.

You quickly return your gaze to his face but it’s too late. His eyes arch in amusement and his smile widens. “Won’t you come in?” he says. “You’ll have to wait. There are many who arrived before you. But I am eager to see what you’ve brought me.” You nod, clutching the burlap sack you brought all the way from the village. You haven’t offended him yet, it seems, and you think he’s in a good mood. Maybe you’ll survive this after all. Cherroveth slips between the trees and you follow, led to the shade-dappled ruins he calls home.

This place might’ve been a temple once. Some crumbling stonework remains, green with moss and climbing vines. The ghosts of greater structures linger in shattered plinths and disembodied arches, a half-sunken bas-relief wall depicting figures worn down by the ravages of time. A small crowd of supplicants welcomes you with wordless nods and commiserating glances. They come from distant villages, from port towns, from the halls of castles and humble farmsteads—all places touched by the forest where the Prince of Flowers holds sway. All clutching what precious treasures they could scrounge together in the hopes of earning a blessing.

Bones litter the ground they stand on. Scapulas. Smooth skull fragments. Whole skeletal hands, partially buried and scattered by animals. The flowers are thick wherever something has died. You join the others, listening to their whispers. He’s killed at least seven today, maybe more. The person who’s been here longest only saw three of them but she says there’s more bodies in the underbrush. He let an old woman go even though he scowled at her while she hobbled up to the altar and her bag of offered birdseed ripped open, spilling all over the ground. A shoemaker brought him animal bones and was dragged away screaming but an apprentice from a magic school gave him the same thing right after and was thanked for it.

You ask each other questions, trying to solve a puzzle with no answer. Is it the gift? The quantity? The quality? The intent behind it? Is it the reason one comes here, the magnitude of what they ask for? Is it the age of the supplicant, their job, their means, whether they’re rude or kind? You can’t agree on a pattern. Everyone has their guesses and rituals. It matters if he’s smiling or not when he greets you, they say. It depends on the weather, the day of the week, the phase of the moon.

At the center of everything, the altar waits. Cracked pillars and limbless statues surround it. The tangled canopy of three hunched trees casts a shadow across its flat gray surface. It might have been shattered once, some pieces missing. A crack runs down the center and the carvings in its sides, ancient symbols and floral patterns, don’t quite match where the halves meet. Blood, both old streaks and fresh trickles, stains every inch of it. A faded mural depicting a garden scene stretches behind it, chunks missing, the colors washed out.

Cherroveth walks to the altar and all conversation ceases. He beckons one of the supplicants closer with the curl of his fingers and a trembling man steps forward, carefully setting a carving of a bear upon the stone. Cherroveth hums in consideration. He walks in a wide circle, examining the offering from different angles. When he passes behind the nervous man, his hand drags across his shoulders, slow and sensual.

“Lovely,” the Prince of Flowers says, delighted. “Did you make this yourself?”

The man hesitates only a moment before shaking his head. “No, I…a friend of mine, he makes these.”

“Hm. And what would you like in exchange for it?”

“A blessing for the fields, my lord. If that’s alright. Not much grew last year.”

“Gladly.” Cherroveth’s hand slides from the man’s shoulder to his face, catching his chin between graceful fingers. He kisses him, long but chaste. He pulls away with a mischievous smile. “Thank you for your gift. You may go. Your fields will prosper like never before.”

The man bows low, nearly sobbing with relief. He rushes out of the ruins, leaving the rest of you wondering in his wake. Was it his honesty? His quickness to admit it wasn’t his own creation? Cherroveth plucks the carving from the altar and vanishes for a moment, sauntering away to some hidden place among the trees and stones. He returns soon after with a frown and furrowed brows, sighing deeply.

“Next,” he mutters.

The next supplicant is wary. She whispers a prayer before she approaches. Her offering is half of a stone cracked open, the swirl of magic frozen in each jagged geode crystal. Cherroveth stares down at it disinterestedly. You wonder what soured his mood so badly.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“My father,” she stammers, flinching at his harsh tone. “He’s…he’s very sick. If it’s alright, my lord, if you don’t mind…”

Cherroveth seizes her chin before she finishes speaking. He tilts her head, pressing his lips against hers. You see her relax, eyes falling shut.

There’s a sick sound, wet and crunching. Her eyes fly open and she makes a choked sound. Cherroveth steps back and she falls to her knees, gasping, convulsing, clawing at her own throat. Something long and thin presses against her skin from inside, bulging in her neck. She tries to scream but only makes a shrill wheeze like a dying bird. Blood trickles from the corners of her mouth as she retches and heaves, a slow trickle to a thick, gushing torrent. A thick, thorn-studded vine slithers from the underbrush and wraps around her ankle. It snakes higher, over her calf, her knee, her thigh, leaving small, bloody punctures everywhere it touches. You can’t look anymore, sick to your stomach, but you hear the sounds she makes when another vine slithers around her other leg, and another around her torso.

Cherroveth picks up the geode and holds it away from his body like it’s sick and rotten, his nose wrinkled, scowling in disgust. He takes it away. The unlucky supplicant is dragged away soon after. The sounds of slow, agonized death as the thorns tear her apart from the inside gradually fade. Several minutes pass before Cherroveth returns, smiling brightly once again.

It goes on like this for some time. A supplicant will approach, present their offering, and receive a kiss. Each encounter lasts no more than a few minutes, mere seconds for the most unfortunate. The Prince of Flowers is mercurial. Sometimes he will inspect an offering carefully and sometimes he will pass judgment with barely a glance at it. Sometimes he will call for the next person with a smile and a laugh. Sometimes he will stare listlessly. A young woman openly weeps when the kiss ends with the promise that her lost cat will return home safely this very evening. An older man staggers to the mural coughing and crying blood, leaving a red handprint on the stone as he topples over. He’d brought a carving, too.

He stares, unimpressed, at a handmade toy meant for a child. But then he picks it up, turns it over in his hands, and his icy demeanor melts into a small smile. The woman who offered it is given a handful of magic seeds when she only asked for one, looking as though she might faint from surprise.

You watch the crowd in front of you dwindle with growing unease. There must be something. Some explanation. Some hint. You look at the ruins, the decorative arches, the patterns carved into old stone. The Prince of Flowers is depicted everywhere you look. His face in profile smiles serenely upon the walls at the ruin’s entrance, mirrored panels gazing at the spot where supplicants arrive. Little remains of the statues by the altar, one missing a head and arms, the other nothing but a lower half clad in a loincloth, but maybe it’s him. They match, the tilted stance mirrored but otherwise identical, the delicate curl of a flowers and vines wrapped all the way up each.

The mural, you notice, is not one image but two. Like the altar, there is a fissure down the middle dividing the paintings. You see supplicants depicted in the fashions of an ancient civilization, their arms raised to present colorful cloths, live animals, gold and gemstones and crystal figures. They approach from opposite directions, lined up before the Prince of Flowers who stands at the center. In one panel, he is smiling and surrounded by roses. In the other, he frowns, wrapped in thorns.

Your eyes flick down to the altar. The crack in the stone. You look back up at the altar, Cherroveth shown in both of his extremes. Your mind races. Could it mean…?

“Next,” he says sharply.

Your heart races. You’re the only one left. The ruins are empty and silent. Shivering, you look down at the bag in your arms. Fresh fruit. That’s all you brought. You find the godling glaring at you, tapping his fingers impatiently upon the altar. In the sunset, his eyes are soft and bright like the inside of a lime. You glance at the mural again. When was the last time someone noticed? “You might not like it,” you admit.

“Let me see it. You’ll find out quickly,” he says.

Hesitantly, you step forward. You open the sack, setting the fruit down right on top of the crack splitting it down the middle. “Nobody really knows what you like. We’re all just guessing,” you tell him. “I heard you like the first fruits of the harvest, but maybe you don’t. Maybe it’s the other one who likes that.”

His hand freezes, hovering over the offering. He looks at you, wide-eyed with surprise.

“Oh? A clever one,” you hear. Cherroveth—another one, identical to the first—comes out of the trees. This is who first greeted you in the forest. Those are the same graceful footsteps, the same half-lidded stare and sweet smile. He stands on the opposite side of the altar, picking up a peach and turning it over in his hand. “You heard right. I do love the first harvest best. My brother doesn’t appreciate food offerings, unfortunately.”

Twin godlings. You look back and forth between them. They’re impossible to tell apart unless you look beyond their features and clothing. One stands taller, straight-backed and confident while the other hunches.

“I am Cherroveth,” the smiling one says. “Prince of Flowers.”

His twin stares at you, entranced. “Therrovech,” he murmurs. “Prince of Thorns.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” you ask them. “The offerings would be better. We’d bring enough for both of you.”

“We did tell you. Humans forget things quickly.” Cherroveth shrugs, biting into the peach. He moans, his eyes fluttering shut as clear juice runs down his chin. “Mm! Just lovely.”

“The ones we told are probably dead,” Therrovech muses. “It was a long time ago. To them, at least.” His smile is different than his brothers. Smaller. Almost shy. He takes your hand, tugging you closer. “It’s nice to be noticed. What would you like?”

“What? You’re letting them go?” Cherroveth’s smile falls and you struggle to tell them apart again. They’re both tense, eyes narrowed, bristling with anger.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Therrovech insists, grasping your hand tightly. “It was my turn, anyway. They gave their offering to me. I get to decide.”

“You don’t even like what they brought you!”

“I can bring you something else,” you say quickly.

“You already did,” Therrovech says. This smile is the same as Cherroveth’s, warm and wide. He shoves you back onto the altar, scattering the fruit across the ground. His hand lands heavily on your shoulder before you can sit up and then he’s crawling on top of you, straddling your legs. You wince when he starts tearing at your clothes with claw-like nails. Were they that sharp before? He nicks your skin and it makes him freeze, watching blood bubble to the surface. To your horror, the sight of the small scratch makes his eyes glaze over. He licks his lips.

“Now you’re being petty,” Cherroveth argues. He stands on the other side of the altar, next to your head. “You just don’t want me to have them.”

“You get everything you want all the time.” Therroveth unties the cloth from around his hips and drops it carelessly, leaving him completely exposed. You’re shocked to find him smooth like a doll between his legs, but it doesn’t last. His skin ripples like moving water. His flesh parts and peels, unraveling like unspooling thread. He’s nothing but thorns. Thick vines and thin, snaking tendrils, stiff and wooden, green and flexible, every inch of him is sharp and prickling. You watch the transformation in speechless, horrified shock, seized by his larger vines that hold you down against the stone. He ties your wrists together and your legs apart, the restraints biting into your skin painfully.

“But they would be so pretty, Therro. Just imagine it.” Cherroveth kneels, his hair curtaining your vision as he strokes your cheek and smiles at the expression of pure terror on your face. “This neck. This lovely chest. Imagine, all of your thorns and all of my flowers. Inside them, Therro. Don’t you like how it feels to kiss a sacrifice? Such a fertile garden they’d make.”

“They’re mine,” Therrovech growls. He slaps his brother’s hand away and hunches over you, covering your body with the writhing mass of his thorns. They couldn’t look more different now. His skin looks stiff and wooden, pitted with thin grooves and speckled with lichen. His upper half comes apart like the corpse you saw in the woods before, his chest open, his ribs, covered in spines, on full display. Everywhere he touches you burns and stings. “I always have to share with you. It isn’t fair. Maybe I want something all to myself for once.”

“Fine.” Cherroveth scoffs. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand one last time, a lingering touch that makes you shudder. “I’ll make sure none of our supplicants are lost in the woods. But you’ll change your mind, brother. Or you’ll make a mistake. I know you will. I’ll be more than happy to take them off your hands when you do.”

He moves quietly. You have no idea he left until Therrovech shifts, no longer crushing you in his sharp branches. You see a cautious smile. Eyes like emeralds. Roses of all colors in his long, leafy green hair. He looks nothing like his brother but he’s still beautiful. The vines around your wrists are loose enough for you to reach up to touch his cheek. It’s softer than you expect, the wood spongy against your palm. Therrovech holds your hand there and nuzzles against it.

“He’s wrong,” he whispers. “I won’t change my mind and I won’t make a mistake. I want you just like this. I like soft things. Warm flesh. I like that you saw me. I’ve wanted to be seen for a long time.” His hands frame your face and you squirm nervously, trying to get out from under him, but his grip on your limbs is too strong and painful. Even flinching makes the thorns dig deeper. “Don’t be afraid. You’re no sacrifice. I just want a taste. Just a small one.” He’s going to kiss you. You pull against the vines despite how much it hurts but it just makes him hum in disapproval. He cups your jaw, forcing you to open your mouth. His lips are warm against yours.

It doesn’t hurt as much as you feared. His lips are soft. His teeth are like daggers and his lips are sandpaper rough but he’s careful, mindful of where he’s sharp and abrasive. He licks into your mouth gently and moans, his whole body writhing around you. It feels strange but you find yourself kissing him back. When you stroke the rose petals in his hair, he shivers and makes an almost wounded sound.

Something warm, firm and bumpy grinds against your thigh. You can’t see it but Therrovech’s vines slither restlessly every time it slides against your skin. He breaks the kiss, hot puffs of breath warming your swollen lips. “Stay,” he begs. “Stay with me. See me. Talk to me. Cherro won’t have you, I won’t let him. I’ll give you anything you ask for. Anything at all.” Another vine wraps around you and then another, thick like snakes. Therrovech kisses you again and this time he tastes sweet. There’s something in his mouth, some kind of nectar, honey-thick and intoxicating. He pushes his tongue into your mouth. His thumb massages your throat, insistent. He doesn’t let up until you swallow the cloying sweetness filling your throat.

“What…whu…” You try to talk but all that comes out is mindless noise. You feel dizzy and overheated, floating or falling or something else entirely.

“Open up to me,” Therrovech whispers. His vines wrench your legs apart and up, as high as he can get them. “I’ll be all yours if you’ll be all mine.” That thing, that hot, pulsating organ, slides against your entrance. Your body fights it, your muscles tight and unyielding. Therrovech tilts your head and leans over you, something gold and dew-shiny sparkling in his mouth. He dribbles more nectar into your open mouth and your eyes roll back in your head. It’s good. Tastes good. Feels good. Makes your skin all buzzing and warm. Makes him feel good everywhere he’s pressed into you, nipping your veins.

The vines quiver. Therrovech presses into you again and this time you let him. Not thorns, at least, but it’s thick and hard and studded with dull barbs that catch and pull on things inside of you. It shouldn’t feel good but the nectar makes it heaven. Therrovech’s body undulates, a strange, worm-like quiver rather than the thrusting mating motion you expect, but the result is the same. He throws his head back and groans as he fills you. You shudder in ecstasy.

“More,” Therrovech whispers. He leans in close, his strange body pressed against yours. He kisses you feverishly. He pours nectar into your mouth and it’s more than you can swallow, sticky saliva dribbling down your chin.

Sharpness jolts you out of your haze momentarily. It was a small, fleeting pain, just a pinprick. A thorn scrapes behind your teeth. You open your eyes and Therrovech is losing what little cohesion he has in his upper body, a spiked tendril unfurling from one of his cheeks. He could hurt you badly. He might not even notice. You pull away and he whines, surging forward, more nectar already on his tongue. You push weakly at his chest and he grows around you, trapping your hands against his warm, throbbing center.

He said he wouldn’t make a mistake, but godlings are creatures of impulse. You try to hold onto the fear, the clear-headedness, searching for a way out, but Therrovech’s vines constrict and he drives into you harder. A spurt of thick, creamy nectar fills your insides and every thought you have is obliterated. Nothing matters. Nothing but having more of this. You drive your body onto his organ and take everything he has to give. You’ll stay. Stay forever, if that’s what he wants.

Your head falls back against the altar and you see Cherroveth, upside down, standing against the mural. Embarrassment heats your face at being seen like this, but it’s quickly forgotten in the churn of heat and sensation. The Prince of Flowers smiles softly. He’s undressed, his fist wrapped around a thick cock, stroking himself into hardness. He’s waiting, you think. Waiting as for the Prince of Thorns to do something he shouldn’t. To lose himself. To unfurl sharpness into your body. To fill all the space inside.

Therrovech nips at your lower lip just a little bit too hard and you taste blood. He sucks at the wound hungrily and all of his vines tighten at once.

You wonder just how long Cherroveth will have to wait.

#rotpeach writes #original #goretober

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deerbeatrice · 9 days ago

Text

Afraid -

⚠️ black brothers again. angst. abuse. ⚠️

Sirius had a small fear. Well actually, he had lots of fears over time. When he was 7 he was afraid of spiders. They had way too many legs and his nanny had told him about this huge spider that might have killed a girl at school. He kept this fear for a year until Regulus found one under the sink and begged Sirius to just take it outside. When he was 10 his mother and father sat down and repeated every page of the fantastic beasts over and over. At 10 years old Sirius was afraid of werewolves, unicorns, centaurs, even pixies. When Remus Lupin cried in Sirius' arms about being a monster, Sirius decided werewolves weren't that scary.

"Pads?" Remus was looking at Sirius with a small smile. Sirius looked away from the bookshelf he was building to see Remus crouch down with a cup of hot cocoa. "There's this girl at the high school. Her name is Nymphadora and she's got herself into some trouble that I think we can help."

Sirius chuckled, "What sort of name is Nymphadora?"

"The same sort as Sirius Lupin?"

"Ouch point taken." Sirius pointed towards a screw driver sitting by Remus's foot. "So this girl?"

"She's pregnant." Remus paused looking towards Sirius. "She doesn't want the boy to end up in foster care, but she's too young to take care of him."

"That's awful, her parents won't help her?"

"She doesn't have any Padfoot. They were murdered when she was a kid." Remus inhaled and bit the inside of his cheek. "How do you feel about being a dad?" He breathed out.

Sirius dropped the screwdriver, the screw still sticking out of the wood of the shelf. "What?"

"We could.... adopt the boy? Dora can come round see her kiddo, he'd be loved Pads."

"I just- I don't think- I can't Moony. I can't. I can't. I can't. I have to- I'll be back." Sirius was trying to catch his breath, to explain to Remus that he wasn't leaving for good.

"Sirius? Love, are you okay. It's okay we can wait. We can talk it out?" Remus reached towards Sirius who was standing up and heading towards the door.

"Yes- Talk. Just not now. I'll be back-I'll be back. " Sirius ran out the door leaving Remus sat near an unfinished bookshelf tugging at his curls.

++++++++

Sirius was still afraid of many things. He was afraid of cows, afraid of tight closed spaces, afraid of dragonflies. Fears come and go for Sirius all the time but being a father? Sirius has done that before. His kid ended up hating him, fell in line into a cult despite his many attempts to stop and was now missing.

Sirius approached a small brass cross. It was embellished with snakes and planted into the tree him and Regulus used to hide at.

"Hello Reg. I know i've not been here, well neither are you." Sirius laughed to himself. "Remus he asked me a question today. Asked if I wanted to be a dad. I ran. It's what I'm good at, you'd tell me that." Sirius wiped a tear from his cheek.

"Being a dad though? Not so good at that. I know logically that i was a kid too but i couldn't protect you, how am i supposed to protect him?" Sirius continued to chat to Regulus through all his fears. It had begun to get dark and Sirius had fallen asleep against the trunk of the tree.

+++++++

"Sirius?" Remus had shaken Sirius and he had begun to blink awake. Remus spent 3 hours trying to figure out where Sirius could have gone; he checked the park Padfoot liked to run in, the coffee shop Sirius ran too after he ran away and lastly, the small grave Sirius had planted for his little brother.

"Moony?" Remus sat down next to Sirius and leaned into his side.

"Good morning Pads. I think it's time we had that talk huh?"

"I'm sorry for running Remus." Sirius tilted his head on top of Remus'. "Having a kid outside of Reggie. I mean I know he's not my kid-"

"Sirius listen to me. Regulus will always be your kid. You raised him, you gave him food, you showed him laughter. You protected him from really evil people. This- His death? It isn't on you. You tried Sirius, you went back 3 times. Walburga cursed you every single time." Sirius shook his head.

"We haven't even found him! He's missing and he's dead. I can't do that to another kid." Sirius cried into Remus. "I'm scared I will miss that boy up too."

"You didn't mess up Regulus. Did you hit him?" Sirius shook his head. "Did you tell him you would only love him if he joined the Death Eaters?"

"I would never."

"Did you starve him when he cried?" Sirius shook his head again. "Okay good, so what did you do to him exactly Sirius?"

"I left him there. I knew what they would do."

"What would they have done if you stayed?" Remus let the answer wash over him. The potential death of Sirius Black sitting in the area around them.

"Can we name him?" Sirius asks eventually. "Regulus liked the name Edward, he always named the teddy bears I got him Edward." Remus laughed dipping his head down.

"He names his teddys... Teddy?"

"No Edward I just said!"

"Pads love, Edward is the long form of Teddy."

"Godric, Regulus was 70 years old?!" Sirius joined Remus in his laughter. For the first time since Regulus went missing, Sirius laughed in his memory.

#regulus black #marauders #regulus and sirius #remus x sirius #sirius black #sirius orion black #remus loves sirius #sirius x lupin #tw mention of abuse #harshly based on my own feelings #writer is sirius black #the marauders #marauder post #harry potter #wolfstar #teddy lupin #edward lupin #nymphadora tonks

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bluginkgo · 10 months ago

Text

Episode 7 Teaser is out and it gave me too many crack theories

Well, after finally getting my head wrapped around the entire teaser- which took literal hours to process how amazing it all looked- I think I finally found the ability to put it into words.

Spoilers, duh and uh lots of words, so sorry

This'll be somewhat frame by frame crack down as well as crack theories that came to me while spending time looking at the red images too long that gave me a headache - anyways

As many have mentioned this before, V's corpse is gone, and only a sentinel's tail remains on the ground to the right. Although I wish to believe that V made it out alive, that hope is quickly dwindling. Although there is a small possibility that V somehow won the fight (perhaps with outside help such as J) and dragged herself away (based off of the splatter on the ground) I more so think that she turned into an eldritch V. That or perhaps has been mauled by the sentinels, and the body was dragged off. Although, I can not wait for Liam to prove me wrong about this theory (I hope he proves me wrong, cause I miss V ;w;)

The ground looking hall seems to be where the gang will enter right after exiting the elevator. Alongside this, it seems that the moment with N is also here (based on the background). Now, as for the look that N gives. It goes from worried and slightly scared to harsh concern (in my opinion, feel free to take that thought and yeet it as far as you wish ^_^). Something made him worry in a way that also slightly flared his anger. Two theories:

He saw something ahead of them, and this is the more likely possibility, because that tunnel gives way to the cave that N seems to have been dragged into from the teaser from November.

2. Uzi might have said something that made him more concerned. There is a figure that moves behind N, but it is very hard to see as to who it is- my guess it's Tessa, making Uzi the only candidate to possibly to walk in front of them.

Then we get to see this hole.

Possibility (also a bit wacky and highly unlikely): The entity will finally be revealed, that is, the center of the absolute solver. Something I noticed with the design of the absolute solver is that we get to see its limbs, but never the main body. It is always hiding somewhere, be it in the ceiling or the walls. Of course, there are also the eldritch forms we saw of Cyn, but in my opinion, it feels more like another limb. Now, with J's huge form, I'm a little more inclined to believe that's what it looks like as the main body. Holo spooky snake crab like.

Not to be dramatic, but... Core collapse, which made me chuckle. Because despite all hell breaking loose in these last couple episodes, Murder Drones still manages to sneak in tiny jokes like this. Oh, and I can't forget the dog too! XD

Something I still cannot grasp my head around is what is going on with the environment around the cathedral?? It's raining, but it's in a cave- ok can be sorta explained that it acts like a stalactite... but then what is going on with the vortex around the building? My current theory: uhhh... robo-satan, that is all.

A lot of scenes with humans and in a clear view (i.e. not like a video tape). This might suggest a flashback as many have already mentioned it. However, who, how, and why is there a flashback? Well, there is one crack theory I came up with. This is what Uzi is seeing. She is an absolute solver host, and it has been seen on multiple occasions that absolute solver has a hivemind, so it can easily show its hosts whatever memories its previous hosts had.

These next scenes I believe to be in the progression as shown.

@/haastera (don't want to bother them with a tag) also pointed this out, that these scenes may be back to back, based off of the lamp that is off to Uzi's left. However, what the heck would cause Uzi to snap like she did in ep4?

Uzi saw something in the tape that made her upset, the possibility of N killing Nori. Cons in that theory: N killed Nori post core collapse, and there would not be any evidence of it.

The tape had something that was similar to zombie drones tape that was marked "Don't show this to drones, they will not like it." Something in the tape may have forced boot the solver string in Uzi, and she was powerless to stop it. Cons: @bloodywolfwings mentioned to me that the reflection in Uzi's visor seems to be a door instead of a screen. So there's also the 50% chance that these two scenes are not even related.

MA'AM YOU PUT THAT SWORD AWAY, UZI HAS IT BAD ENOUGH MA'AM- in all seriousness, this is a 50/50 shot once again. Maybe Tessa is attempting to get rid of Uzi while N is gone. The opposite end of that is Tessa is attempting to help Uzi, perhaps an enemy that Uzi did not sense behind her.

These two scenes are related, I believe- the claw is hard to see behind the cross, but it is there, and not to mention that Dr. Chambers is wearing a camera on his head. However, there's more to it after I stared at it for a while. The absolute solver claw appears to be burning and glitching, this is only seen with DDs and solver drones when they are exposed to the sun. Perhaps the humans were slowly getting better at controlling the absolute solver, with some sort of power equivalent to the sun. But in the end, their efforts were useless, seeing as Nori still destroyed everything there.

We have seen these two scenes already, so not much to dissect here. Just NUzi being NUzi :3 while all hell breaks loose

This scene had me so confused at first.

I could not figure out what was going on with the cars. Cars are outside, our gang is in a cathedral, what happened- That's it. This is outside. And as many have already mentioned this, there are drones in the background so far identified as Lizzy and perhaps Thad. (I say perhaps Thad because my dumb brain won't let go of the idea that the drone on the left is Khan. Look, my brain said 'I think I see a mustache' and now I can't unsee it.) Either way, this is outside and the gravity has decided to take a break (as RedMage put it in the nuzi discord server). It seems that the gang will do something, or something drastic will happen (perhaps a second core collapse) that will cause the gravity of copper-9 to become unstable. So maybe the episode will end with the possibility that copper-9 is about to collapse like Earth did, as the gang tries to stop that event from happening.

Ahem, allow me a second of: FERAL N FERAL N FERAL N FERAL N- ok, I'm done for now. As many have pointed out, this may be the moment that N killed Nori, and Uzi might have to relive through that experience as the absolute solver shows Uzi everything that has happened up until now. His smile is not the one we've seen up until now when he's in his murder drone mode, but more of a smirk. Another theory I came up with is that when Uzi becomes possessed by the absolute solver, perhaps by default, N does too. Uzi is now N's admin, and if the admin is corrupted, there is nothing to keep N's solver string in his ai from fully corrupting him. However, there's a hole here.

The X on the visor generally means that there is a string in the drone's core is faulty and not functioning. This is because when the solver string attempts to take possession of the DDs, the admin program switches it to false and gives the faulty os string sign on the visors. That has to mean the admin program is still up and running, which pushes the theory of this scene being a flashback of N killing Nori, more likely.

Uzi's eye has burst, it seems, just like Yeva's. So now the question is, why does it do that? Doll also covered her eye, perhaps to conceal the damage that is already there. Theory: this happens because the solver inside of the drones is constantly attempting to get out of the host. It has been seen that it does destroy the bodies from ep5. And it seems that the red goop is what Uzi's attempting to hold back on her eye. It might be oil, but what makes me believe otherwise is the fact that it doesn't look liquid-like enough. Granted, that scene is literally 1 second, so the movement that may be there is really hard to grasp.

Doll HAS MADE A RETURN! And she's fighting someone with knives is what it seems like. Thoughts on who it might be? Literally, anyone in the gang, there is not much to go off of here. But to dissect it further, it could be like this:

Uzi- because she teamed up with Tessa and a DD, and it seems like Doll and the gang have separate goals, which upsets Doll and causes the fight.

N- another DD that had caused a lot of pain and suffering for WD when they first arrived to copper-9. So why not get rid of him as well while she's at it.

Tessa- the main character that seems to be very suspicious about every action. We know very little about her, and even more so what happened to her post gala massacre. Perhaps Tessa discloses the idea of killing every drone that is on the list of the drones experimented on. This will include Yeva and, therefore, Doll.

Now as for THIS.

That is a drone, for certain, now as to who it is, is really hard to guess. There is clearly a helmet on the drone, so it kinda narrows it down. Routes:

This is part of a flashback:

Nori or Yeva- one of the stronger solver drones that needed a better way of controlling/containing them. Backed up by the balconies/cat walks that are on the corners of the screen.

Some other poor drones- An even crazier idea of mine would be that the people were, in fact, worshipping the absolute solver. This is what happens to the heretics. Either that, or this was some sick way of worshipping the solver.

This is real-life time: Doll is the number 1 candidate, how she got to be like this, though... there are some possibilities.

Doll's solver form is taking control/form.

Uzi and Doll had a fight (consciously or not, solver might have forced a fight), with this being the outcome.

It's late for me. The amount of crack theories that have been bouncing around in my head is unreal. More than half of them are probably most likely wrong. Once again, take all of my theories and yeet them into the stratosphere if you wish ^_^ These will be mostly here just to come back to and see how wrong I was about everything.

#murder drones #murder drones n #murder drones uzi #murder drones v #murder drones j #murder drones doll #murder drones nori #murder drones yeva #murder drones theory #bluginkgo's rambles/theories #murder drones ep 7 #murder drones absolute solver

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calypso-apologist · 3 days ago

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could i pls have headcanons of yandere Antinous x princess of Ithaca/daughter of Pen n Ody reader 🙏🙏🙏

antinous oh antinous the things i'd do to you

Yandere!Antinous x Princess of Ithaca!Reader ♡

cw: mdni. nsfw mentions. non-con/dub-con implied. yandere. antinous starter pack: manipulation and questionable consent. murder. pregnancy. non-descriptive birth. i have issues.

The queen was a stubborn wretch, refusing to pick a new king. She believed Odysseus was still out there, that he'd come back. Antinous might not be a chosen of Athena, but he's not a fool, either. He knows she's stalling.

And while other suitors insist on trying to get to Penelope somehow, Antinous figured that there might be an easier way to secure his place in the royal family.

After all, Telemachus wasn't necessarily the only choice for the king. There was also his twin sister. Odysseus never named his heir, so it could be either of the twins.

Or rather, the son or the daughter's husband. So why not become just that?

And while at first it was just about the throne, the more he watched you, the more he followed you around... the more he started to crave you.

The need to possess you was no longer just his desire for just the throne, no... he wanted you.

He wanted the princess of Ithaca to be his. He wanted to tear her dress to shreds, to see her naked body shaking and she whimpered and squirmed under him in bed. He wanted to see pretty tears running down her soft cheeks, maybe even watch her struggle a bit as she tried to keep her dignity at first, before surrendering to him.

And even if she tried to fight, tried to get him to leave... He could simply hold her down, could he not?

But, since she seemed like such a sweet young thing, he decided to play it safe. After all, if she falls for him genuinely, it'll all be so much easier.

Besides, with young, kind souls like hers, it really didn't even take that much effort. Antinous was a charismatic bastard. And the princess was innocent, lacking experience when it came to romance.

Of course, there was hesitance at first, but all it took was a sad little act about how he let himself get lost in his ambition and the young princess immediately looked at him with a more merciful, understanding gaze.

With that, obtaining her friendship and affections was just a matter of time and charm. Say what you want about Antinous, but he could be one charming motherfucker if he so wished.

He didn't even need three months before sneaking into your bedroom at sunset, his words wrapping around your heart and brain like constricting snakes around their victims.

And despite how hesitant the princess was about giving up her precious innocence, she really didn't need much convincing. She loved him, after all, and he loved her. She shouldn't overthink things, she should simply give herself to him, let him ravage her.

Did it really matter that it hurt? It was supposed to, she was a smart girl, she should know that. She should trust him. Love him. He loved her, after all, he kept whispering so into her ears as she sobbed softly, her whole body trembling from the rough yet oddly delicate treatment. It seemed to be something only he could do, to violate her so lovingly.

And of course, he couldn't just stop after the first time, no... He had to visit her each night, fill her up, make sure his seed would take, binding the two of them forever.

Once the pregnancy was confirmed, he was quick to rid the palace of all the other suitors, one by one, before he finally asked Penelope for her daughter's hand in marriage, bringing the shared "love" to attention and saying he even made all the others leave to prove himself.

And even despite how hesitant the queen was, she gave in to how much the princess insisted.

And for the first few months, he seemed like a dream husband, always by his wife's side, helping her through the pregnancy, willing to make every wish come true, not even a flash of irritation on his face despite how ridiculous the princess's whims might've been.

But when the faithful day came, he was late. By the time he finally appeared, the mother of his child was too vulnerable to question the blood on his hands as he cradled her face, offering hushed reassurances before the room was filled with the sound of a newborn baby crying as it was forced to greet the world, torn out of its mother's womb.

The princess only found out why her husband was late and bloody a few days later, as Antinous was crowned king. He used the chaos that surrounded the birth to kill Penelope and Telemachus. Fortunately for him, his precious wife was too far gone in his manipulations to even try to rebel against him. Instead, she remained by his side, forever faithful with his firstborn in her arms.

And she'll have more. His previous little queen.

#ask #anon #epic #epic musical #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #epic musical x reader #epic x reader #antinous #antinous x reader #epic antinous x reader #epic the musical antinous x reader #epic antinous

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wutheringmights · 17 days ago

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I finished Skyshade by Alex Aster. No surprises: it's really bad. It might be the worst Lightlark book yet.

I could write out a long, well-articulated analysis of what specifically is bad about it, but I do not have the willpower. What I do have is a long, detailed summary of the events of the plot I spent way too much time writing out for my friends' personal enjoyment.

So here it is.

Ok so I am just going to assume that you all remember what happened at the end of Nightbane, because we pick up right where we left off: Isla "ending" the war by agreeing to go back to Nightshade with her husband Grim. The plot then informs me that apparently Grim's whole court and country knew they were married from the beginning. Taking into consideration the time they were married before the brain washing, the 100 day time limit on the centenial, and the month and a half of war prep we just went through; this means that this was somehow kept as a secret by thousands of people for like 6 whole months. How the fuck did no rumors about this ever spread to the rest of the world????

Anyway, what is the plot? So Isla has a prophecy that says that she is going to stab either Oro or Grim in the heart and kill them. That's bad, and she wants to stop that. But wait! She is also slowly dying (she's on borrowed time because her life is tied to Grim, via marriage). So she wants to find a way to not die. But wait! There are also storms. What kind of storms? Magical, uber desctructive storms that have apparently been destroying Nightshade and other countries for a long time now and have been slowly increasing in frequency. We have never been informed of the storms before, but now Isla has a goal of discovering the source of the storms and stopping them. And she has to do this before the end of storm season (winter, so a few weeks) because that's when she's supposed to die.

And here, we can truly acknowledge the fact that Aster knows how to write one plot and one plot alone: fetch quest with abritary time limit. The next 200-odd pages are Isla going to X person to find out Y, then running off to A person to ask more about B. And the narration is constantly reminding us that she only has a few short weeks to live, but it never feels that important-- frankly, because no one actually cares if she lives or dies or not.

So we go to a religious cult who once followed a prophet, who then tell her to go talk to the auger. The auger is a fucked up dude that sounds like he belongs in Pan's Labrynth. He will provide the needed info, but only if Isla pays him in human hearts. So now we need to go get human hearts.

During all this, is the… I guess romance stuff? So Grim is well aware he's in the fucking dog house with the whole brainwashing and marriage stuff, and this man has been groveling for her forgiveness. This is not fun for me, as I enjoy Grimshaw the best when he is an unrepentant asshole. He also does this thing where he keeps calling Isla, "wife." Which proves that the most important part of calling someone "my wife" is the "my" part. "My wife" is affectionate. "Wife" is like you're calling for a dog. Gives me the ick, I tell you. Anyway, everyone at court hates Isla because they think she's Oro's spy and is just using Grim. They're not wrong about the latter-- she has not forgiven him and stuff. But she's not in contact with Oro because she believes she's too evil for him.

During this plotline, there's a guy a Grim's court who's flair is that he can control people's body with a touch of the hand. Which he uses one night to try to get Isla to hold still long enough for him to kill her. He gets mauled by Lynx first. Isla then decides to go full evil mode and present his decapitated head to the court and have her ~EVIL~ snakes devour it. Before Isla can feel bad about murdering a mostly okay guy, the story implies that he had previously used his powers to rape women during the night.

And I bring that up because there is this stupid morality thread throughout this book where Isla thinks she's evil and tries to do things that are good (they aren't), but ~she just can't help wanting to do evil things.~ Because of that, Isla has these stupid handcuffs installed onto her that suppresses her magic (so that it doesn't make her evil?) until the rape guy incident. Then she removes them and embraces her villain era. At the same time, there's a lot of Grim lore we learn to soften his image so that he appears to be way less of an unrepentant cunt. There's also this weird characterization of Oro, which I will get to later.

Anyway, back to the plot. Isla needs human hearts to go talk to the auger. So she goes to a random village in Nightshade and finds a guy who she considers to be "wicked": he's choking out some girl in an alley way. And then she brutally murders him and carves out his heart. She does this so that she does not feel bad about killing an innocent person. But what Isla has not considered is that by doing this, she is violating his right to due process and is assuming he is guilty until proven innocent. For all she knew, this man was defending himself from a womanly mugger, or that this was a pre-discussed kink scenario between the two. But, like, whatever I guess. The woman she saved is named Sairsha. When Isla returns every night to do her "vigilante" activities, Sairsha is there to give her a pastry and to thank her for doing her part to keep the streets safe 🙂

Yes, there is a character in this stupid book named Sairsha

HEY ALEX ASTER DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO SPELL SAOIRSE????

Once Isla has enough hearts, the auger tells her that there's actually another magic system in this world called skyres. Basically, it's blood powered and you have to use your blood to draw sigils. Doing too much will kill you. But Isla, who at this point has been told that there's no way to avoid dying or killing one of her 2 boyfriends, is like "fuck yeah sign me up." The problem is that the skyres are a forgotten magic from the old world. The only person who remembered anything about it was the aforementioned prophet, but he was murdered ages ago by Grim's father. So Isla now has to rediscover how skyres work.

Now please pause for a moment as I quickly move some wet laundry to the dryer.

And now we're back. So even after she gets help from the auger, she STILL decides to continue cutting out the hearts of random men on the streets who may or may not be evil. And this leads to Sairsha roofing Isla and kidnapping her. When Isla wakes, Sairsha reveals that she and her drinking buddies are a part of a cult that believes Isla will either save or destroy the world. And they want Isla to kill them. Isla refuse, so… ok, I need you to follow me on this one. One of the men hands her a sword. She holds it up, wondering "wtf am I supposed to do with this?" and the man rams himself onto the sword, killing himself. The other cult members then try attack her, which she blocks. But then they realize they can just run themselves onto her sword every time she blocks, so she ends up accidentally killing all of them. This is very traumatizing for her

Now, you might be wondering what the fuck is going on with the storm story line. Earlier in the book, democratic leader demoted to gay best friend archetype and leader of the Skyling Azul met her for tea to discuss the tea that is her secret marriage. He is intimately familiar with the storms because apparently they happen to every kingdom, but for some fucking reason Isla has never heard of them before. So he gave her a ring that she can use to trap a little bit of storm that will lead her to its source. Cool. Now she has to wait for a storm, which is a period of time she used to justly carve out the hearts of guilty until proven innocent men. Azul also gave her a fucking bird that will sing when the next storm is intiment, kinda like a tornado siren. So the night the next storm hits, Isla finds that Oro had flown his ass all the way from Lightlark to Nightshade because he was worried about her. It's been weeks dude. Where are you. Anyway, they have a moment where Isla decides that she has to scare Oro off so she goes on an evil speech about how she never loved him and stuff. Then the storm hits, and we race off to capture the storm in the ring. This does not work because SHE DROPS THE FUCKING RING AND LOSES IT. Oops. So now we're back on the fetch quest.

So we're back on the fucking fetch quest, and we fuck around and do other things for a bit. We have a second wedding to improve Isla's reputation. Isla has long gotten the stupid anti-magic handcuffs removed. And there is a little subplot about how there is a traitor among the Wildlings who are desecrating graves and destroying medicinal miracle herbs. Put a pin in that one because we will get back to it. So we learn that the storms are coming from a tear in reality, a portal back to the original world that all of this came from. This is a one way portal, though. So we can't use it to go through ourselves without dying (there is another subplot where Grim wants to do this because he thinks it will save Isla's life; don't worry about this).

So in the last book, Isla had visited Aurora's castle and found a feather as a memento. This is now relevant because the feather is actually a quill and Aurora's ghost can control the quill. Using writing, she tells Isla that she can teach her a little bit about skyres. Isla believes her and that this is actually Aurora's ghost controlling the quill, and starts to learn skyres. But she needs to go to a special library in Grim's winter castle to find more. This, and the fact that she is really freaking horny, is her motivation to finally mend her marriage with Grim.

Grim uses this opportunity to trauma dump about how his childhood sucks. It's royal Nightshade tradition that you have all your kids murder each other so that there will be one ruler. This is stupid when you consider the whole nexus, "lives of the people attached to the ruler's" thing, but whatever. Luckily, Grim didn't kill his siblings on account of his father doing it for him. This is so sad that it makes Isla forgive him entirely and they fuck. Yay.

We go to the winter palace, and Isla finds the needed book. The book helpfully tells her that bone is more powerful than blood. Put a pin in that. Besides that, she and Grim go on some more dates (including a sequence where she gets new clothes for him because he doesn't know how to dress casually) (who the fuck wants their boyfriend to dress worse???) and shit. He also shows her a magic maze in the backyard that is enchanted to forbid people from using their magic. But at the center of the maze is Cronan's casket and body. Cronan, you may recall, is one of the three founders of lightlark, the first nightshade, and the dude that invented the nexus. Isla tries to steal his bones in order to do more powerful magic, but fails. There's also this bit where Isla investigates her dead father's life in order to feel connected to him for a bit. This involves discovering that he had discovered an island, that he had also named Isla. This island is barely relevant.

So at this point, we are about 150 pages into a 370-ish page book. This is also the point where I started reading last night and proceeded to go a little bit insane.

So the next big plot point is that a village in Nightshade is absolutely razed by someone everyone thinks is Isla. It's not Isla because she has been fucking off to learn more skyres, but no one knows she's been doing that because it's been a secret. We spend about a chapter confused as to who this person could be, only to find out that it's the same Wilding traitor who has been fucking around in the background of this book so far. Wanna take a wild guess as to who this traitor is?

Well, you can't because out of left field, we find out that it's Lark Crown-- Isla's ancestor, one of the founders of lightlark, and someone we have been told has been long dead for like a millennia

So what is Lark's deal? Lark has been imprisoned below the earth by Cronan, and has been there for a millenia. Apparently, the dead Nightshade children thing was a way to reinforce her bounds. Because Grimshaw wasn't going around and having children to kill, her bounds weakened enough for her to escape. And, I need you to understand this-- Grim knew about Lark this whole time. He knew that she was locked up because she was famously the most evil person ever (but not famously enough for Isla to know?). He kept this a secret for Isla, and then also didn't do the one thing that would have kept Lark imprisoned

Lark and Cronan (and also Horus, who is Oro's ancestor; he's actually dead so don't worry about him) are from the primary world. Long story short, they were fed up with how Horus's family were tyrants and decided to make their own secondary world. But to do that, they had to kill a lot of people and the world of lightlark is made from the bones of innocent. Then Cronan, who Lark was in love with, betrayed her and imprisoned her so that the land could be powered by her magic. Now that she's escaped, she wants to kill everyone in the secondary world so that she can start over from scratch. To do this, she has raised an undead, nigh-invincible army.

Also, remember Aurora's quill? That was Lark using magic and "stealing" Aurora's handwriting. Because she needs Isla to know skyres for some reason? Mostly, Isla is connected to the heart of Lightlark and needs that power to remake the world.

So the first thing Isla needs to do is go on one last fetch quest to learn one last bit of information that will help us later (insert mickey mouse special tool meme). So she goes to Lightlark so that she can invade this secret Sunling archive, located in a magical desert that only the Sunling ruler has access to. Here, Oro finds her and he's fucking bitter about the whole break up thing. Like he's gone from being generally nice dude to being really mean, but mean in a book 1 Grimshaw way. Like he invades her space and kisses her without her verbal consent-- because he has magic that can tell that she's lying when she says she doesn't want him anymore. Sadly, I still think he's better than Grimshaw so I will allow him to be a cunt for as long as he wants to

This story arc in the desert. Oh my fucking god. I was losing my mind. So it's super hot, so there's all these bits where Isla keeps having to strip naked to stay cool. And Oro just keeps…ogoglinh her. Fucking leering man. And while the stakes are high and you're still concerned about the whole Lark Crown situation, we stop the entire flow of the story so that Isla could have a dream. Which is just a framing device for a flashback to the time she had sex with Oro.

This sex scene chronologically took place during the events of the last book, but we did not see it because Alex Aster did not care about providing the illusion that Oro has a fighting chance at this love triangle until she read the fucking comments. In this sex scene, Isla urges Oro to turn the slinky dress she is wearing into gold. Why? Explicitly, because she wants to help Oro get over his hang-up about having once killed someone with his midas touch. WHY? Because Aster read the fucking comments and decided that Isla is actually obsessed with the gold stuff because it's therapy for Oro. Therapy, while they're having sex. Anyway, Isla rides his dick for a bit before giving him a blow job. Good job, boyo.

So we get the last bit of information from what turns out to be Horus's tomb. And I'll be honest-- the whole sex scene flashback had made me gone so thoroughly insane that I'm a little fuzzy as to what bullshit we actually learned here. I think it's that the portals are being caused by Cronan's body, because had a portaling flair in his lifetime. I don't know, man. Just thinking about this is hurting my brain.

There's a bit where Isla steals some of Horus's powerful bones, which is another betrayal for Oro. Before they can duke it out, we learn that Lark has already brought her armies to Lightlark. So Isla, Grimshaw, Oro, and Oro's friends decide they have to put their petty differences aside and work together. There's more fetch questing here, but to summarize: we go see this monster guy named Remlar for a dagger powerful enough to paralyze Lark. Grim tries to find this monster controling sword he had in the last book, but it's gone now, Turns out, after he used it he put it back in the dragon lair / thief trove he had to looney tunes his way to find it last time. And since then, the thief had moved their trove, probably because some dingbat idiot purposefully trigger all their traps. We had have to get Oro's friend Zed, who is a hobbyist theif, to find the thief. This apparently was a huge ordeal and was mildly traumatizing for him, but it all happened off screen.

This is actually a huge problem in this last act of the book. A lot of bullshit happens, very quickly. The great majority of it is based on information Aster teases, but does not tell the reader until the last second, which is then followed up with Aster telling us that Isla had done something or talked to someone off screen, had gotten X special thing from them, and is now using it has a checkmate against Lark. I am not joking when I say that by the time we reach the final fight, there are like 4 checkmates in a row that can be summarized as "Isla allegedly did this really cool thing off screen that she told no one about and the audience didn't see, but it allows her to do this really cool thing"

So the what does this look like on page? The narration will tell us that Remlar "told Isla a secret." Then in a fight, Isla will use a new power and "this was the secret Remlar told Isla." Then when this does not work, we then find out that Isla:

-laid a physical, magical trap that we had not heard about before

-had talked to the auger to get one last bit of lore, which we are just hearing about now that it's going to help us fight Lark

-Isla realized a plot twist off screen that is helpful for the fight now

-convince Cleo, the Moonling queen who was helping Lark, to switch over to our side in exchange for something that is never really explained to us

It's rapid . One after another. And Aster expects you to be happy with each punch as they come. Because here's the thing about Aster's writing. The logic doesn't matter. She just wants to shock you. She wants to catch you off guard with another plot twist, even if the plot twist is nonsensical or is only possible by not writing a solid 100 pages worth of material. I don't want this book to be any longer than it is, but it's downright insulting how much Aster straight up doesn't write for the last fight of this book

So to summarize what is already the summary of a final conflict. We try to paralyze Lark long enough to open a portal to send her back to the primary realm, but oops Cleo saves her. So Isla decides to make the worst storm of the century in order to depower Lark long enough to try again. There's this bit where Lark tries to imprison her underground, but it doesn't matter. There's also this bit about Isla realizing that as a baby she killed her parents, but it's okay because they knew it was going to happen, but this Does Not Matter. She also has sex with Grimshaw again.

So final fight, we lure Lark to Cronan's coffin, where the portal is. This is where we learn that Cronan is actually alive and has been freely portaling between the secondary and primary worlds. We never see him, so who cares? Anyways, Isla uses her powers to open a new portal to throw Lark into. And she sacrifices herself by going through it as well. And the book ends with Oro and Grim realizing that Isla had gone this one last act of good-- sealing herself off in the primary world… which is named Skyshade. Roll credits

Every fucking book, Aster finds a new way to write badly. I am going insane. I didn't know you could write like this. She is discovering new avenues of absurd badness I couldn't even imagine. I feel like I am going to throw up. I can't think about this book too hard or else I think about the stupid desert sex scene again. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU PUBLISHED THIS?? Why is the first book somehow turning out to be the most coherent one??? I am going to chew my arm off. I have to read three more of her books next year??? Are you insane??? Am I insane??? -1/5⭐ anyways, thank you for tolerating this long rant. I hope you enjoyed this. I'm going to go read a good book now.

Friend: [asks what was the deal with losing the ring and comments on the love triangle]

Me: So there was a second ring, which she used in the final fight to make the worst story in history to depower Lark. There is more lore about the storms and importance given to the storms in general that I skimmed over because, really, they don't matter.

Also the thing about the second ring is that I'm not sure where she got it? I thought Azul gave her one and she made a big deal out of losing the first one, then there's a throwaway line about Azul giving her a second one that I couldn't decide happened a) when he gave her the first one or b) happened off screen. Initially, I thought it was A and I just forgot but in retrospect it's probably B

I am still on team Oro, even if he's being a total dick rignt now but I have no illusions that Grim isn't going to be the end game. However, I do want to entertain delusions I will get a threesome somewhere

Honestly, I think Aster wants to write a smutty fairy book where the plot matters less than the sex scenes, but she unfortunately has to sell this as YA. Does that stop her from writing sex scenes? No but it causes her to give me a fucking flashback of Isla and Oro having sex instead of just having them fuck in the cave like she probably wanted

"[frankie] you make such a big deal about the sex" these characters are obsessed with it. like every conversation comes down to a scale of how much a character does or does not want to bang. and it's not even remotely sexy about it

[five hours later]

I have realized I forgot to elaborate on a whole plot point about her dead parents lmao

here's the highlights because I'm tired:

-her guardians had initially told isla in book 1 that they killed her parents, then walked it back in book 2. They were the red herrings for the whole wildling traitor BS

-Isla already imprisoned them when, 2/3rds of the way through the book, she decided to use oro's lie detector magic to see if they were lying or not. They were not.

-while imprisoned by Lark (this truly does not matter), Isla realized that her flair actually isn't anti-curse. Nope. It's actually that she can steal other people's flairs if she killed them. And she had actually killed her parents.

-her dad discovered an island and named it isla, but swore that he also wanted it to be the name of his future daughter

-before the final fight, she discovered a letter on the island from her dad that explains the Lore

-the dad, who had an anti-curse flair,* had a charm made with his blood for grimshaw that allowed him to be outside at night despite the curse; this is Aster reading the comments again

-Grimshaw gave the dad the starstick in exchange

-Isla's mom had a fortune telling flair that let her know that Isla is so powerful that she will kill them shortly after being born.

-both mom and dad decided to still have her because they wanted her so much, but they did make a charm to bottle away the mom's future telling flair so that Isla didn't get it right away

-When Isla asked her guardians about THAT, they confirmed it and said they didn't tell her because they did not want to truamatize her

-and also they had suppressed her powers by putting metal shavings from this story's equivalent of kryptonite into all her food, which did not wear off until she was at the centennial

-this is so that she would not have any powers until she was strong enough to handle them

This book is a goddamn mess

The real irony here is that Isla was still traumatized by the idea that she had, as a baby, lost control of her powers enough to kill her parents. Yet she cannot extend any real empathy to Oro, WHO DID THE EXACT SAME THING

Friend: that's a lot to unpack

Me: honestly eager to read crowcaller's review. if anyone could unpack it, it's them

#if something is inaccurate it's because i read half of this book last night and it all became a blur #i basically edited out my friend's comments and my responses along the way and nothing else #so sorry if this is a little incoherent #but at least enjoy this peek into how i talk normally lmao #me rambling #me reading #lightlark #skyshade #alex aster #bookish #books #bookblr #books and reading #also lost some of my comedic italicization in the copy and paste but oh well

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devilshills · 10 months ago

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So lately i've been curious on ways i can connect more with Lady Lilith in worship & involving her into my everyday life. I see that you're a Lilithian, so i'm just curious on how you do these things!

here are some tips and offerings you can give to her , but first a tw : slight mentions of abuse , kidnapping , child murder , food , wine , sex , a painting involving nudity , and religious trauma . btw , the underlined part is a link !

1. you can start by reading about Lilith in judaism , although her origins go back to ancient Mesopotamia . deities and other guardians love when we read about their myths as long as we understand that they are not their myths ( like in Greek mythology ) since the myths were written by humans who mostly feared the deities . however , you can always choose to believe anything from the myths . personally , i believe that there is some truth in every myth , and i believe Lilith was not allowed to be in the Garden of Eden after she refused to submit to Adam because she wanted to be equal to him

2. unlearn the bad things you might have been taught about Lilith . she is thought to be evil and many people think that she likes to kidnap and murder babies , but that is not the case , in fact , she is very motherly and she can help women who are in abusive relationships . i can confirm this for you , as she made sure my angel babies are safe and she is keeping abusive people away from my life for as long as possible

3. offerings : chocolate or dark chocolate ( you can eat it in her honor , i promise it’s not disrespectful ) , choosing yourself and stepping into your power , roses , the colors red and black , dark crystals ( such as obsidian , red jasper and / or ruby ) , apples , snake imagery , cinnamon , wine ( especially red dark wine but if you are not fond of that , you don’t have to give her a wine offering ) , figures of her for your altar ( if you cannot afford an altar , that’s okay , just remember that you are a living altar ) , self care / self love , sex magic ( same as the wine situation , if you are not comfortable with sex magic you obviously do not have to do that ) , shadow work , which is looking at the parts of yourself ( mind , emotions , behavior , etc ) that you avoid the most / are most ashamed of . while doing shadow work , you give those parts of you a space to speak . it’s going to be painful sometimes because you will be noting down the parts of yourself that you tend to hide from the others , but remember Lilith will not force you to do shadow work if you don’t want to or if you need to stop it . you can vent and / or rant to her instead . also , a couple of personal offerings i gave to her are on my discord bio i added the black moon Lilith sign ( ⚸ ) , which i think is more connected to astrology but she still appreciates it , the another offering is my pfp on my main tiktok being a painting of her by Dante Gabriel Rossetti :

4. Lilith is understanding , and she will give you space if you need time from your practice due to mental health reasons . if you struggle with religious trauma , she will reassure you that you don’t need to ask for her forgiveness . even if you don’t feel her presence , even if you don’t see her , she will be there for you . you can ask her for signs , and she will eventually deliver them ; for me , she makes sure to land readings with messages from her through tiktok on my fyp . the way she sends signs might be different for you , but she is not subtle when she wants to give you a message . she will also be honest and she will tell you the truth . you can talk to her about everyday things in your life to connect with her , and if you need , you can ask her for reassuring cuddles

i hope these helped ! ♥︎

#sumerian goddess #mesopotamian goddess #demonolatry #jewish mythology #mother of demons #mother lilith #daughter of lilith #lilithian #deity work #deity worship #chaos witch #devilshills

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shadowqueenjude · 2 months ago

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Snowbaird one-shot for @burntblueberrywaffles

This was the most insane thing he had ever done, but Coriolanus had no choice. His dream had shown him the truth of the matter: he was simply not built for life in the wild. But he didn’t want to give up Lucy Gray; not if there was another way.

Instead, he stood there in the silent streets, the sun minutes away from rising. He was supposed to meet Lucy Gray in an hour and a half at the Hanging Tree. This was utter madness, far more insane than running away…but he couldn’t stop thinking about that dream.

Like maybe it was warning him about something. What would happen if he tried to run away. Funnily enough, his dream had also inspired this crazy idea.

Coriolanus wore thick gloves, his heart fluttering like a hummingbird as he prayed they were thick enough to protect him. This was so stupid. Unbelievably stupid. This was quite possibly the craziest idea he’d ever head. So crazy that it just might work.

It was almost too easy to sneak around the back of the house, to jiggle the window locks and slide the window open ever so slightly, just enough for it to slither inside, and Coriolanus watched as it slithered over the bed right beneath the window, crawling over the sleeping figures there.

He was already running when a shriek emanated from the house. Mayor Lipp had been bitten by a poisonous- no, venomous; apparently there was a difference- snake. Coriolanus then ran to the hanging tree, where exhaustion overtook him.

He was gently shaken awake by his Lucy Gray. Her beautiful multicolored eyes peered at him curiously, a mischievous smile on her face. “Been waiting for me, have you, handsome?”

Despite his drowsiness, Coriolanus blushed. Lucy Gray offered a hand, and Coriolanus took it, standing up. “Something like that. I have great news.”

Lucy Gray raised a brow. “Really?”

Coriolanus nodded vigorously. “I’ve found a way to make our problems disappear forever.”

Lucy Gray went still, though the wind dared to tousle her dark curls. “How?” she whispered.

Coriolanus took her hands in his, lifting them to hover near his chest. “Mayor Lipp is no more.”

Lucy Gray gasped quietly. “What did you do?”

Coriolanus smiled grimly. “I took a page out of your book.”

Lucy Gray shook her head. “Do you think they’ll just let the murderer of Mayfair and now the mayor himself get away?”

“It was the mayor who was pushing the investigation of the murder. You know that.” Coriolanus’s words came out in a rush. Maybe he was insane, but the plan had had some sense to it when he’d just woken up.

“Yes, the mayor’s death will be investigated, but without any evidence of foul play, the case will quickly die down. And we will be long gone, happily living in District 2.”

Lucy Gray’s eyes widened. “District 2?”

Coriolanus nodded. “I passed the officer’s exam. I’ve been transferred to 2.”

Lucy Gray’s jaw dropped. “You mean…?”

“The flight is today,” he breathed. “We can leave this place.”

Lucy Gray squeezed her eyes shut, and Coriolanus noticed a tear streaking down her cheek. Tentatively, he leaned down, brushing away the tear with his lips.

The Justice Building was eerily silent at this time, which was lucky because they had to do this fast. Coriolanus had quickly shoved himself into one of the few nice clothes he had left: the dress uniform meant for special military occasions he had received upon becoming a peacekeeper. Lucy Gray was wearing a lovely dress with butterfly sleeves that seemed to be made of lilies. They made a strange paid in the back mirror: the stunning Hunger Games champion beauty, and her beastly mentor beside her.

For that’s what he was: a beast. He had killed twice before and was partially responsible for Sejanus’s death, but this was different. This was premeditated; he had planned this. He had gone there with the intention to kill. What was he, if not a beast?

But it was worth it if it meant he could be with Lucy Gray forever.

When Lucy Gray spoke her vows, Coriolanus could not stop the tears, overwhelmed by fear and love and emotions as he was.

“I love you, Coriolanus Snow,” she said softly. “For though others may despise you for all you’ve done, I see your truest, deepest self, and know you to be pure as the driven snow you were named for. I have loved and lost, but never have I trusted so deeply as you, which is why our bond is incomparable. I vow to love you and protect you for the rest of our lives.”

Coriolanus sniffed as he tried to come up with vows. He had (though he would die before admitting this) written practice wedding vows to Lucy Gray, imagining their wedding, in their journal, but those words seemed so far away and highly inadequate. He tried to take deep breaths before he began.

“My Lucy Gray. While others saw my looks and my charm, you pierced my heart with your incandescence, bringing my true self to light. For the first time in my life, I felt free to be vulnerable. When you could have saved yourself, you saved me while potentially damning yourself. Every day I look at that burn on my back, I remember you saving me, and I vow to protect you and love you the same way you have protected me.”

They kissed sweetly on the lips, quickly turning to the next part of the ceremony. They had already toasted small pieces of bread over a fire before coming into the building to save time. Lucy Gray teasingly hovered the piece she’d toasted before his mouth. Coriolanus scowled slightly, while not at all annoyed. He quickly darted out like a snake, capturing the piece in his mouth. Then he offered his piece to Lucy Gray.

Without breaking eye contact, Lucy Gray parted her lips and took Coriolanus’s whole finger inside her mouth, sucking. He swallowed, feeling a heady sense of desire overtake him when the officiant cleared his throat.

“Would the newlyweds sign here, please?” he said. The lovebirds snapped out of the trance and quickly signed the paperwork. The officiant gestured at them, indicating the deed was done. They were officially married.

Coriolanus Snow could hardly contain his glee. Within a day, he went from a disgraced criminal to a noble officer and husband. Not bad at all.

Snow always lands on top after all.

#snowbaird

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sunflowersunite · 4 months ago

Note

I've been meaning to ask this for some time now, since I've realised as we're working on a fic together that you tend to make little headcanons about the characters here and there.

So I would love to hear some about your fic "to live". I tell you it's a masterpiece and it'd be a crime if you DO have hcs or side notes and you've kept them all to yourself

ohh?? Thank you so much for asking me this, swordslinger!! I maybe kind of have a few, actually...

to anyone interested, the fic is to live, an aot villain AU where Levi never left the Underground and Hange followed a different path. Assassin Levi x torturer Hange (she's a torturer for the Military Police). This post will contain spoilers for the fic.

The first person Levi killed when he became an assassin was the pimp who left his sick mother to die without providing her with any healthcare.

when Levi pushed Hange against that wall, (this is what I'm talking about) he was genuinely impatient and wanted to intimidate her. However Hange's feelings were a little... different. Danger has always exhilarated her and I have to admit that she did think about kissing him right then and there. She knew she'd end up with a knife at her throat but oh well, all the better.

Chapter 5:

“Say you’re sorry.” A pause, during which she imagines his lips pursing into a thin line. “What does it matter if I do?” It does, for the sake of their weird, twisted friendship. Because however little kindness he's got left, he spared some for her. “Just say it, midget.” “Tsk. Dumbass shitty-glasses.” “Stuck-up clean freak.”

this was inspired by Six of Crows and it according to the note I'd initially made, it would go like this: (context, Levi is bedridden, injured and they're bickering because Hange wants to go do murder stuff)

"midget" "shitty-glasses" "clean freak" "Hange. Don't go."

4. I found a fanart that reminded me of the fic and kept it in my notes. torture buddies Levihan here!

5. When Levi adopted Mikasa after her parents died, he really had to be a parent to her. She'd wake up by nightmares and he'd have to?? calm her down?? who, Levi Ackerman??

He was better at it than he expected, though. He wanted her to throw that stupid scarf away because he claimed it provided a grip for any attackers, but she refused (because it's Eren's. Mikasa still remembers Eren as the boy who taught her kindness still exists).

6. In an earlier draft, while hazy from some attack (idk which), Hange was supposed tell Levi that she liked it when he called her by her name, because initially he only referred to her by the infamous nicknames.

Later, Levi would find himself in the same predicament (hazy from an attack) and this would happen

She comes closer and he sees her, worried and bloodstained. “Levi? Are you okay?” “I’m okay.” He wraps a tendril of her hair around his finger. Holds it like a lifeline. “Hange.” “What is it?” “Nothing. You like it when I say your name.” That fact might have been a memory or a dream, but he doesn’t bother trying to figure that out. He's tired. “Don’t fall asleep!” she urges him. “If you keep shouting like this, I can’t,” he mutters.

(well, this might make it into the fic eventually. I don't know 😅)

7. Another deleted scene which I liked very much. They've found themselves in some abandoned village and sleep side by side.

Hange inches closer to him, her hands press against his chest. He finds it rough and calloused from holding hammers and buzzsaws, not swords or scalpels. From creating, not destroying. Levi wishes for the first time that he could do something useful for the kids like the one he used to be, frail and weak and alone. Without being sure why, he snakes an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. Her breath fans over his face and he’s only millimetres away from pressing their foreheads together. It’s a tenderness he feels like they’re stealing from another kinder world. This world is cruel, though, and they know that they’ll be each other’s demise or die trying. I’ll kill you, her kind smile says. The inquisitiveness with which her eye roams his face, the way her hands press on his beating heart. I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you. A twisted lullaby. // She studies his stormy eyes, the smooth bridge of his nose, the line of his mouth. She drinks in every little detail, tries to read his expression. He gives her nothing.

this scene. ohhh I forgot how much I liked it. I got goosebumps. 😄

7. deleted scene #3679 (context: Hange would return to the Scouts here and Levi rode his horse next to her until the camp. It happened a bit differently in the final product)

“Is this goodbye, then?” she asks. “I guess.” She looks like she wants to say something and Levi finds himself once more awaiting her next words with a knot in his stomach. “I never liked goodbyes, you know. Us Scouts never say goodbye, only good luck. So, good luck, Levi. Kick their asses.” The first rays of the morning sun dance around her hair and she looks more like a painting than a person, a painting with soot smudged on her cheeks and a stiff back and an eye the colour of soil and life. Bright and hopeful and alive, that’s what she is. That’s what she deserves to be. Hange’s horse starts to trudge towards the camp, and Levi calls out for her before he can regret it. “Hange!” She stops and looks back. Her name rolls off his tongue as if he’s said it countless times before. It’s familiar, it feels right. And if it takes never saying it again for her to live, maybe it’s okay. “Good luck.”

heyyy I liked this scene too, would you look at that.

8. Levi likes to kiss Hange's neck (I headcanon that for canon as well, but let's mention it here). He's too short to reach her cheek so he just kisses her neck fleetingly when they become canon. Also he likes to cuddle up to her and use her as a pillow.

9. Chapter 3:

The tip of his nose is cute, so mismatched for a murderer like him. That’s what piqued her interest when he pinned her against the wall that first night. Maybe when she kills him, she’ll cut off his nose and preserve it in a jar, it’s too nice to let rot.

fun fact, you have @quillsandblades to thank for that because they were the one who made me not scrap that scene and actually use it somewhere.

10. After Levihan becomes canon and assuming everything works out eventually, Levi becomes the Scouts' scary parent and Mikasa their scary sister. Assassin Levi with Connie and Sasha.

"soo what do you do in your free time?"

"I murder people"

"tight"

11. Kenny ships Levihan. Granted, he did send them after eachother, but chemistry is chemistry and Kenny has eyes.

This turned out to be a compilation of deleted scenes, but it's good that I found an opportunity to share them! If anything else occurs to me I'll let you know 😉

#levihan #attack on titan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #levihan fanfiction #quillsandblades 🗡️#levihan headcanons #my writing

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fae-papercuts · 5 months ago

Text

Still A Monster

Medusa looked up from her book, peering over the narrow glasses balanced on her nose. It was quite an impressive sight, really, given how her nose is a strangely shaped nub with uneven nostrils, barely poking out from her grey-green face. She raised one eyebrow, though as they are always assymmetrical, it took you a moment to recognise the expression as one of curiosity.

Peering at her reflection in your hand mirror, you stepped cautiously backwards towards her. You had passed several 'statues' of people dotted throughout the garden outside, but the inside of her surprisingly well-decorated cave wasn't quite as busy with the petrified remains of erstwhile warriors. There was one cowering in the far corner, another trying to hide their eyes off the size. One was tucked by the door, its stony expression one of frozen rage. Every one of them, inside and outside, were warriors. Some ancient and moss-covered, wielding swords and shields. Some distinctly cleaner ones holding rifles and dressed in modern combat gear.

You cleared your throat politely, and the monstrous woman picked up a bookmark, slipped it into place, and closed the book calmly. After placing it gently on a small table beside her, she laced her fingers together in her lap, and looked expectantly at your reflection from her casually reclined posture upon the couch.

"Can I help you?" she asked. Her voice was rough and gravelly, with an unusual accent that you could only assume is Ancient Greek. It's actually the accent of the people of old Ithaca, to be specific - but it made little difference to you. The snakes that act as her hair moved lazily, roused from their previously slumberous state by your interruption. But there was no terrible hissing or sudden predatory response. Just the languid curling of slender, scaly bodies.

Licking your dry lips nervously, you tilted the small mirror slightly to get a better angle on her, noticing that below the neck her body was remarkably human. A little plump, and adorned with a simple creamy robe - not an ancient Grecian toga, but a dressing gown of thin, shimmery cloth. You couldn't yet tell exactly what the fabric was, but it was draped over her body quite casually. Her legs were covered in dark hair that looks like it would be soft to the touch, and you made a mental note that this shouldn't really be any surprise. After all, why would she shave them?

You took a deep breath, and a moment to gather your courage. The Gorgon's unevenly scaled face remained calm and patient.

"I'm not sure if you will want to help me," you forced yourself to say, hand trembling slightly. Despite her calm demeanor, you knew this woman could still kill you with a glance. "But I thought it was worth coming to ask you anyway." You paused, scanning her expression for any signs of annoyance. After a moment, the monster raised an open hand, gesturing for you to continue.

At that gesture, words spilled out of you. As though you were hoping if you said it all at once then it would be too quick for her to get offended by any one part of it.

"Right, so, I heard the myths and the stories about you, Medusa the monster, and there are so many - all about being cursed, about being beheaded by Perseus, how you turn people to stone - some of the stories have you alone, some with two sisters, in some you're ugly and in others you're terrifyingly beautiful - there's two different sets of parents, and some said you were in Libya but here you are instead - but also there's this stuff about how you protected women, and that the curse might not have been a curse, and it's all just so confusing and messy and none of it feels quite right, so I just wanted to ask you -" finally you took a breath, a tiny pause before your question. "What happened?"

You stopped, breath held, waiting maybe for anger, or for her to simply leap from the couch and murder you on the spot. Your blood pulsed in your ears as adrenaline made the mirror shake in your hand. But there was no fury to come.

Medusa tilted her head to the side, thoughtfully. You winced a little, unsure what may come next. She twisted slowly in her seat, feet sliding off the couch and onto the floor. Leaning forward and placing her elbows on her knees, she peered at your reflection with slightly narrowed eyes.

"You are scared of me," she said, quietly. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. So you didn't reply, curious to learn what would follow.

"Yet you hunted me out, sought my home, passed the stone corpses on my doorstep, with only the protection of a hand mirror, simply to ask me what happened?" she continued, frowning with what you had to hope was confusion.

You couldn't think of how to answer, really. It sounded so stupid when she said it like that, but you couldn't put into words what drove you to come all this way. You nodded, dumbly. It's only when she took a breath, opening her mouth to speak again that something popped into your head. You blurted out, "Curiosity killed the cat."

Your face was hot all of a sudden, and you realised you must be blushing, embarrassed at the whole thing. Thoughts of just leaving sped through your mind, but perhaps you should apologise first, so at least she might not follow you outside. But then, what if she didn't want you to tell anyone else where to find her -

"And satisfaction brought it back," Medusa replied. You blinked, then stared back at her reflection, which suddenly seemed to be smiling kindly?

"What?" you said, your mouth moving faster than your anxiety for once. Yes, she definitely was smiling as she answered your confusion. It was a pretty smile, you thought in that moment. Striking how the simple joy was shamelessly displayed on her face, with no coyness or attempt to hide that gentle happiness.

"That's how that saying finishes," she replied. "Though of course, it originated from 'care killed the cat' - with care here meaning much the same as 'worry'. You folks are always making a mess of your own proverbs. It's like you want to forget the parts that matter." The Gorgon lifted a hand to her face and pulled off her reading glasses, leaning back to place them atop her book.

It was only when she leaned forward again to fix you with that surreal expression, that you noticed when she moved she had to adjust tawny brown wings that sprouted from her back, to avoid crushing the feathers. You cursed that you hadn't thought to bring a bigger mirror so you could see better - but then you would have had to spend even more money on luggage on all those flights you took, and it had already been expensive enough.

"Go on, what others do you know," the serpent-haired woman said, her lopsided grin broadening. It was only then that you realised you had expected fangs or shark-like teeth to line her mouth. But her excited grin was slightly buck-toothed, with quite naturally askew. It was probably the most singularly human part of her face, her teeth.

You swallowed uncertainly, still fighting that dry mouth, in spite of how friendly the monster seemed to be. "Jack of all trades, master of none," you replied, with the first thing that sprung to mind.

"Is better than master of one," she continued without hesitation. "Though it's hotly debated whether that's really the original, or if it's just a more accurate reflection of the positive intent. Either way, it rather undercuts the negative implications of the modernised version."

"Money is the root of all evil," you said, frowning slightly as you tried to think. She chuckled, an almost musical sound that you definitely didn't expect. With that kindly laugh, the smile, and her relaxed posture, you couldn't help but start feeling a little more at ease.

"It's 'Love of money is the root of all evil.' Someone really didn't want to take responsibility for their bullshit with that one," Medusa replied, rolling her eyes.

You couldn't help but exhale a snort of amusement. You had stopped shaking so much, the adrenaline starting to subside, but it was still difficult to think of another aphorism. "The devil is in the details," you said, almost jumping as you excitedly pronounced it. Anyone would think you were hoping to stump her.

"That one was originally 'God is in the details,' but I guess it was too hopeful for some folks," your host said through a sarcastic smirk.

The next one came to you more easily. "A rolling stone gathers no moss," you said, somewhat pleased with yourself.

She raised a finger, and her expression seemed pleased with you too. "Technically still accurate, but only recently did you forget that a rock with no moss on it is a desolate, lifeless thing. The original meaning was closer to an old Roman saying - 'A plant often moved cannot thrive,'" Medusa said, definitely enjoying herself. "Next!"

The next one popped into your head instantly. "Don't judge a book by its cover."

Her smile saddened then, and she nodded to herself as her gaze drifted into the middle distance. "That one I cannot argue with. It just seems too hard for anyone to really live by."

You bit your lip, slightly regretting your success in the impromptu game of words. You struggled for something to say, but you couldn't take your eyes off the somewhat mournful reflection of a mythical woman who was not at all how you expected her to be.

"You're not a monster," you said quietly. It's not much, but you needed to say it. It's tremulous, your voice still holding the remnants of your fear. Then you spoke it again, more confidently this time, as though reassuring both yourself and the mythical creature behind you.

She frowned slightly, focusing on your reflection once more with a suddenly intense stare. "Yes I am," she replied, her tone hard and cold. "I turn people to stone with a look. I have snakes for hair, scaly skin, and bloody great big wings." She stretched one of them out behind her as though to prove a point. "Not exactly your average citizen."

You squeezed your lips together, frustrated at her objection. "You know what I mean. I thought you would get angry just at being disturbed, but we're just talking," you argued, gesticulating with annoyance. "You're not some foul, malevolent beast who's out to murder and destroy."

She stared coldly at you, every vestige of her smile gone. "I've murdered people," she said, her voice low. "You saw some of them on your way in. I probably left quite a few behind in Libya, too." Her severe expression cracked, and she smiled darkly. "You know how it is when you move house, something always gets left behind."

That looks sent a shiver down your spine. It was getting easier to make out her expressions, but the truth of her words made you suddenly doubt your own assertion. "Self defense, surely?" you asked, uncertainly. You wanted to be right, partly so you wouldn't be in danger. Partly because you couldn't accept that this smiling, laughing woman was a monster. Underneath the mishapen face and coiling serpents, she seemed so very normal. How could she be a monster?

The monster shook her head, the smile not entirely fading, as though she knew it was a serious topic, but she couldn't quite stay serious. "Not always. Some of them were just cunts who had it coming."

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. That sentence coming from the mouth of the ancient figure older than civilisations, a legend whose story had lasted generation after generation. Her smile softened from amusement to something almost affectionate, still gazing at your reflection as she chuckled along. Your laughter faded and you stared into her reflected eyes. Eyes that were a deep brown, shining out from her curiously coloured skin. They weren't slitted or glowing, just pretty, wide brown eyes. Maybe there were flecks of yellow and amber in them, but you couldn't quite tell from so far away.

It was so awkward talking like this - out of reach and through a little mirror. You dropped your hand, lowering the mirror, but didn't turn around. You may have wandered into Medusa's lair out of curiosity, but you were certainly not enthusiastic about the idea of becoming a permanent decoration.

"What happens if I turn around?" you asked her, trying not to sound too serious. Trying to make it just a casual, conversational question.

"Either I close my eyes or you become a delightful new statue," she said plainly, as though it were the least remarkable thing in the world. Just a casual conversation.

You paused for a long moment. That was not exactly an answer that made you feel good about turning around, but your head twitched a little, as though the urge to see her in the flesh was tugging at your muscles. "Which will it be?" you asked her, your hand gripping the mirror tightly by your side, as you stared out of the entrance, your eyes drawn between dust motes dancing in the sunbeams. You very purposefully avoided the eyes of the lone, eternally enraged stone figure by the doorway.

Medusa didn't reply immediately. Your breathing seemed so loud in the silence. "I haven't decided yet," she finally said, very quietly. It wasn't said like a threat. There was just simple indecision in her voice.

She took a sharp little breath, then sighed, a little exasperated. "Trusting people is so hard. We always want to, don't we? But the world is full of monsters, and not all of them have hair that can bite. Even the most sceptical, cynical fuckers want someone to talk to, but it's scary letting someone in. You sit there thinking, 'Why do they want to know about me? Are they going to judge me? What if I do this wrong?' And I remember all that happening even before I had to figure out if they had been sent to kill me because my eyes are literal weapons."

She sighed again, deeper. A resigned sound. Then there was a soft sussuration of clothing shifting. If you had known more about fabric, you would have been able to tell that her gown was indeed silk in that moment. Egyptian silk, taken from a foolish soldier long ago.

You chewed your bottom lip nervously, your muscles tightening, as though preparing to run. You didn't know what to expect, what she was doing, and that fear rose up again. You were about to raise the mirror again to look behind you, when her gravelly voice drifted tentatively over your shoulder. "Turn around."

Something in the tone makes you do it. It's not hypnotic or compelling, nothing like that. She has cast no spell on you. But it sounded like she didn't expect you to do it. Like an invitation that expects to be refused. It sounded like she was waiting for you to run. Like she could see your fear still there, despite your claim that she was no monster. Like she could see that you didn't entirely believe it yourself.

You wanted to prove her wrong. You wanted so hard to be right, to believe it. Something inside you deeply needed her to not be a monster, and you didn't realise it until that very moment. So you turned on the spot, staring at the floor for a moment before inhaling deeply, and looking up into her face.

Mirrored sunglasses hid her eyes. Big, 1980s style aviator shades that reflected your own face back at you. You stepped forward, towards your own reflection. She smiled with relief, and you could see as you got closer that her smile wasn't just pleasant and human - it really was quite beautiful. It's not even, and it's far from perfect. It's not some spectacular, pearly-white, Hollywood grin. But it's beautiful in its honesty. The honesty of appreciation, of surprise, of finding someone willing to take a risk and trust her in spite of everything.

You stood in front of her, easily within her reach, and bent down a little. You peered at the sunglasses, trying to see through to her eyes, wondering with a strange detachment if you were about to turn into stone. She turned her head aside as you squinted at her. "Careful, I'm still a monster," she said with a somewhat hollow chuckle.

"Yeah," you said softly, as you sat on the couch next to her. A dozen pairs of eyes turned to follow you, as her hair twisted on her head. The sight was so surreal, so unsettling. A collection of little beady eyes peering back at you. You would wonder for such a long time about whether she could see with those eyes, instead of the ones that were made for murder. "I guess you are still a monster."

You looked back at the serpents, a little chill darting up your neck. Then your gaze fell on the reflection of yourself in her sunglasses, as she turned back to face you. "But I think you're still not a monster, too," you added, smiling as reassuringly as you could.

You began to talk more, then. She answered some of your questions - like how long it had been since Libya, and where she was from originally. You didn't dare ask the questions about what made her that way. Not yet, at least. But she slowly began to tell you the tale as she relaxed into your company, and you let her.

The conversation continued for so long, the sun eventually set outside the cave. Long beams of the fading sunlight moved across the floor by your feet until you curled your toes under you on the sofa. Gradually your host lit candles to see by - beeswax candles she told you she makes herself. You couldn't go back out into the darkness, so the monster invited you to stay the night. You agreed. And if I could, I would have screamed for you not to.

That one night became two. Three days becames a week. The weeks merged into months, and every day brought you and she closer together. It's hard to remember how many days it had been when you began to share her bed, but it was quite soon after she had you go into the nearest town to pick up mirrored swimming goggles.

"I just want my peripheral vision back," she told you, as you both laughed at the sight of her struggling to pull the strap over the mess of uncooperative serpents atop her head - with her back turned toward you, of course.

Without the gap in her sunglasses, I could no longer catch sight of the look in her eyes as she gazed at you cleaning up the messes she insisted didn't need any cleaning. There was no mistaking that look.

Nor was it possible to misinterpret how she carefully turned away every night before taking off her eye protection. Or how she started waking without opening her eyes, groping for the shield that keeps you safe before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead to wake you - even though you were usually already awake. You watch her sleep, sometimes, trying to imagine what her eyes really look like, but always turning away if she begins to rouse from her slumber.

She has grown to love you. And it is clear you love her too. This monster abandoned by the world, living quietly in a cave surrounded by reminders of what horror she can inflict.

This monster I had watched petrify so many travellers who came seeking the power of her eyes, or a hoard of riches that she didn't have. People craving rewards, or to be celebrated as heroes. All of us, every single one, were fools. I see that too, now. I wish it had not taken me the better part of two centuries. I wish I had not spent so long fixated on my rage and the injustice of my fate.

One day you brush the moss from my face. The softness of your touch is remarkable, and I feel honoured that you would be so gentle with me. I can see why the monster cares for you so deeply.

"Who was he?" you ask her, peering curiously into my eyes, as though seeking the answer in the features of my stony face.

Medusa glances over at me, and there is a coldness in her tone as she replies. "I don't know. They didn't usually give their names." Standing, she places one of her books on the table. She has so many - her thirst for stories and knowledge was one of the first things you came to adore. She glides over to stand beside you. "I thought him a monster, then. I'm sure he thought himself a hero."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping a little. I have watched her for so long, I imagine I can tell how she feels as well as you can. You who she tells her secrets and her jokes to. The regret and the sorrow sings out in her voice, though we hear only the smallest inflection.

"Really, he was just a man. A man who made a choice I wish he hadn't."

If I could, I would cry. My frozen chest aches with feeling, desperate for release. But I can't. I can feel the blade in my hand, my other arm up too high in a futile attempt to hide my eyes. But I will never move again.

It's not fair. I told myself that every day for years. When you first arrived, when you first brought her joy, I told myself the same thing. Every smile a bitter barb in the eternity of my suffering.

And it is not fair. It's not fair that I'm trapped here, imprisoned forever because I made one damn fool decision. Just like it isn't fair that she can't leave, because of people like me.

Perhaps I'm still a fool, because I think you got the rawest deal of all. Stuck here just because you love her. Because how could you leave now? How could you leave someone who has had to be alone for so long, without it breaking your heart?

"Why do you keep them?" you ask her, turning away from me. You look quizzically into the mirror image of your own eyes. "I know thinking about them makes you sad. Why leave them here to remind you all the time?"

The monster turns away from you, and stares at me. I see my own grey face, contorted with rage and fear, reflected back at me. I wish to all the gods that I could change that expression. I wish I could gift her a smile, a little sign of the forgiveness I am trying so hard to excavate from my rocky interior.

Her voice is small when she whispers her reply, almost too quiet for me to hear.

"I don't want them to be alone."

#medusa #short fiction #short story #greek mythology #mythical creatures #gorgon #fantasy #monster #romance #terato #fae papercuts original

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