#the bloody and horrific human sacrifice was just a part

[selkiewife]

theon weirwood

Come vibe with me about Theon and weirwood imagery and the weir walker theory!

Awhile ago, I did a deep dive into David Lightbringer's videos and I truly enjoyed his theory about the origin of the Others linked here: Symbolism of the Others: Weir Walkers. In brief, his theory is that the Others were the original spirits of the Weirwoods. They were a form of Sidhe (fae) who were violently evicted from their weirwood homes. He has a lot of theories as to how that happened- some of which involves the sacrificing of children or children of the forest- but the basic idea is that the weirwood trees were once green trees that were corrupted and transformed into the red and white trees we see in the series through the eviction of the Others:

The emptied-out white weirwood trees then became wight trees, like corpses with most of their minds and souls removed… and in fact that’s exactly what the weirwood trees look like, with their bleeding, anguished faces, bone-white bark, and leaves like blood hands. They look like dead people; like zombie trees, like wight trees. These hollowed out zombie trees have since become a home for a new hivemind of greenseers – many of whom are humans like Bloodraven and Bran... (David Lightbringer.)

What I find touching about this theory in regards to Theon is how his life seems to be mirroring that of the weirwood trees. Like the trees, he's evicted or stolen from his original home, the Iron Islands. But through Ramsay’s torture, his very identity and essence is also stolen, leaving him a shell of what he once was. Weirwoods are skinchanged in the novels and in a symbolic sense, so is Theon. Theon’s actual skin is removed through flaying and amputation and he is starved and beaten. This horrific torture forces Theon to accept the persona of Reek into his body (like a skinchanger entering a weirwood) and reject Theon. After the torture, Theon's physical form as "Reek" even starts to resemble a Heart Tree. He transitions from the "lean, dark youth of nineteen who found everything amusing," in AGOT to the "white haired starveling" of ADWD. This is the most evident when we first meet him again in Reek I in ADWD:

When he raised a hand, he was shocked to see how white it was, how fleshless. Skin and bones, he thought. I have an old man’s hands. (ADWD) “His hair’s gone white and he is three stone thinner, aye, but this is no serving man. Have you forgotten?” The crookback lord looked again and gave a sudden snort. “Him? Can it be? Stark’s ward. Smiling, always smiling.” “He smiles less often now,” Lord Ramsay confessed. “I may have broken some of his pretty white teeth.” (ADWD) “There’s blood on your mouth,” Ramsay observed. “Have you been chewing on your fingers again, Reek?” (ADWD)

So he goes from a dark youth- a "green" boy- like the original green of the weirwood leaves and the green of the sea to a corpse like figure with white hair and white bony hands. He has just eaten the rat so he has blood on his mouth, as Ramsay remarks. Ramsay also asks him if he has been chewing on his fingers again, indicating that there may still be blood on his hands from the rat. But the question makes us imagine bloody, flayed fingers as well.

Theon also has metaphorical blood on his hands because of the murders he committed or allowed- particularly those of the miller's children- which connects with the idea of sacrificial children playing a part in making the Others or evicting them from the trees. It is even more layered when you remember that Theon himself was brought to Winterfell as a potential child sacrifice.

Ramsay also mentions that he broke Theon's teeth, which calls to mind a bleeding mouth- like the bleeding CARVED mouth of the heart tree. Ramsay has essentially carved Theon into Reek with his flaying knife.

During Theon's godswood scene in the A Ghost in Winterfell chapter of ADWD, a red weirwood leaf falls onto Theon’s head, completing the imagery of Theon as a Heart Tree and giving him the "weirwood stigmata," which a lot of other characters share at different times in the novel such as Arya, Catelyn, Dany, Jon, etc. It is also so interesting that Theon thinks of himself as a ghost in this chapter- Theon is like a ghost who use to live inside his tortured and abused body just as the Others are like ghosts that used to live inside the corrupted Weirwood Trees.

I've always loved Theon's godswood scene, but I've also always wondered why the weirwood trees are so intrinsically connected to Theon (at least in my mind.) I mean, it does make sense that they would be- he did grow up in Winterfell and many important things happen to him in the godswood throughout his life. And obviously, there is also the connection with Bran who may be reaching out to him through the Heart Tree. But these two connections to the weirwoods- growing up at Winterfell and Bran- didn't completely encapsulate the incredible, almost empathetic? bond I feel Theon has with the weirwoods and "the old gods."

But then this theory- that the Others came from the trees- did seem to be the last piece that made that scene as powerful as it is to me. It's beautiful to think of Theon- who has been othered (Othered) all his life and who has essentially become a wighted version of himself- is standing in front of these wighted corpse trees praying to be Theon again. And he feels so recognized- so understood by these trees that are also seeking to have their spirits returned to them.

They know me. They know my name. (ADWD)

It makes it all the more moving and beautiful to me.

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Cruz Freitas

To whoever is reading this: I hope whatever holiday you happen to celebrate this time of year is going fantastic for you! Best wishes, and Happy New Year!!!

I personally celebrate Christmas (and even if I didn't, gift-giving would still be my primary love language to friends and family), so I figured it would be fun to create a fanego as a present for my amazing buddy @sammys-magical-au! Just a little something to show my gratitude for all the times they've helped me brainstorm for my stories!

(I might try to do this for more of my Tumblr friends next year; I'll admit that this instance was kinda last-minute 😅)

[Edit: I've since added a few more lore-bits to Cruz as a character, but they're in different posts. For more info on Macaroon, Cruz's pet outer-creature-cat-thing, go here. For more info on Cruz' mask and ritual equipment, go here.]

[Edit 2: mine and Sammy's buddy @inkbedou has created  some fantastic artwork of this guy! Please go follow them and show them some love!!!]

So, since this character is for Sammy, he's obviously a LixianEgo

Cruz is basically my headcanon name for the character that Lixian voices in Late Night Mop. (I actually brought up the idea of making said character into an ego in an ask I sent to Sammy a while ago.)

When I watched the Let's Plays of LNM roll out, I grew attached to the theory that the whole last-minute cleaning job was actually just a trap/long-con to appease the demon that had been summoned.

So. . .yeah. Cruz may not be part of a cult, but he's still what most wannabe cultists like to pretend they are. As for why Cruz chose to make a hobby out of summoning horrific abominations. . .well, I'm not really sure, but I know he's not gonna explain himself anytime soon.

I won't say Cruz isn't a bit of a misanthropist, but he still knows how to interact with others. I.e., how to put on a personable facade in order to "make friends" until he's gained enough of their trust to lure them into his escapades. You can't just mingle with outer monstrosities without making a sacrifice or two, after all.

On the other side of the coin, Cruz has a shocking knack for taking mind-melting eldritch vibes in stride. Honestly, he's way more casual and collected when hanging out with atrocities against nature than he is around his fellow humans.

He's grown a decent collection of occult books/artifacts over the years. Most things in this collection have been acquired through less-than-legal means, because duh. Cruz has long-since learned to navigate the more paranormal side of the Dark Web/Black Market.

He's picked up several languages in order to translate for his projects. Some are human (such as Latin/Pig Latin). Others. . .not so much (the pronunciation is difficult for someone without multiple forked tongues, but Cruz is nothing if not a determined bastard, so he manages).

He's also musically-inclined (inspired by the fact that there's a violin hanging on the wall in LNM's master bedroom). The majority of summoning rituals don't require music, but he'll be over the moon whenever he manages to find one that does.

If LNM didn't make it obvious, Cruz isn't phased by gory stuff. Hell, the bloody mess in that game is small potatoes compared to some of the other offerings/rituals he's set up in the past (and in the future. . .😈)

That demon from LNM wasn't the first ungodly creature Cruz has summoned, and it certainly won't be the last, either. In fact, his latest schemes may or may not involve. . .ah, what's his name again? Oh yeah! The terrifying EldritchPlier himself, as well as Lunky and Co.

Thanks to all the surreal shenanigans he's experienced, Cruz has developed a literal sixth sense. Though it takes concentration/mental strength, he can see/hear/feel/smell/taste all kinds of things that most people are better off not being aware of.

While Cruz operates with little regard for his own sanity or the well-being of other people, he still has enough morals to not sacrifice babies/kids.

Happy Holidays, Sammy!!! I know this isn't much, but I hope you like this guy! Please feel free to write about him whenever you want! (No pressure of course, but still!)

[dianapana]

SH Month 2023 Day 4 – First Touch

The Sacrifice – Part 1

Hinata POV

She never enjoys going out to meet with the ladies from the other families. Always prefers spending time by herself, locked in her room reading and getting lost in the world of a good novel.

But her father sends her at the ladies’ meetings either way. ‘Do not let the other clans think less of us because of your absence’ but what he doesn’t know is that they already do. They think less of her, bully her, and she never stands up for herself.

At the start it was hurtful, by now it is routine. It’s easier to just let them laugh and push her around than it would be to try and do something only to annoy them more.

However…the ladies too are getting bored of her lack of reply. So, their tactics changed lately, they pull her hair, trip her, one of them even ‘mistakenly’ ripped her kimono. He disheveled appearance is starting to raise suspicions.

Deciding that she finally had enough and adding the fact that the bullying intensified anyway, she is no ready to stand up for herself!

And she did, last meeting she chewed them all a new one. When one of them tried to trip her she kicked her foot, making that lady fall. They gasped and Hinata panicked for a second internally. But she stood her ground still.

So she expected things to be better this time, they saw how tough she is actually!

…But…

“She’s from the bravest clan. I’m sure the old tales don’t scare her.”

“Yes! Go Hinata, when we were playing with the temari ball it rolled all the way into the yard. Go retrieve it. You’re the toughest of us all”

They’re walking, or more like she is being pushed, towards the old haunted house.

Centuries ago, the mightiest clan all fell one night, the village mourned and placed flowers at the gate of the mansion, but during the night someone painted each white lily red with the blood of the fallen.

People say that a demon did it, that it was the one to kill them all. Nobody dared enter, all the bodies were left there to rot. One brave boy among the crowd said he doesn’t fear the demon, that the bodies need to be properly buried and ventured into the house.

But he came back empty handed. He said there’s no body to be found in the estate.

Even now the tale is sill very much alive, the house has not been lived in since. Some people have went inside only to tell horrific tales of red eyes watching them from the shadow of a tree, eyes that pull them in, eyes that have bloody intent.

“The temari ball was a gift from my father. It’s so so important”

“We would go but we’re scared. But you’re really brave, aren’t you?”

Neji would laugh at them, at the teasing of 16 year old ladies. He would laugh at her for not being able to say no and leave.

They push her further, one of the girls has her hand on the door, she’s shaking. Two other girls push her in and they close the door behind her.

She’s scared. Turning around, trying to open the door but it won’t budge. The ladies on the other side are laughing.  

Sasuke POV

He felt it, the moment the door opened. Eyes opening. Legs uncrossed from under him. He was perfectly still like a statue sitting atop a rock under a big cherry tree.

Bare feet paddling on the cold and dusty wooden floors, dragging sounds come from behind.

There’s a soft and familiar fragrance in the air the closer he gets to the front door.

Frowning at his own unfamiliar feelings. His heart beating a bit faster.

How many years have passed since he last saw a human? He doesn’t know. Time is not a concept he can grasp.

The house appears to be in worse shape than last time he opened his eyes.

The floors creak.

Coming to a halt the moment his eyes fall upon a small figure. Crouched to the floor, crying, breathing heavily, hands over her head, head buried in her knees.

Taking one step closer, the floor creaking. Lilac eyes looking up at him through tears. Her mouth open, perhaps to scream but fear paralyses her. She cannot scream.  

She looks familiar, but he’s still not fully awake, and his eyes are blurry.

Walking closer to the girl, he can hear laughing on the other side of the door.

He bangs on it loud and hard. “SILENCE”

The other mortal girls scream, they run away. Leaving this one behind for him. An offer? A sacrifice from the village to appease him? It was about time.

Arm extended, hand gripping the neckline of the girl’s kimono, dragging her into the yard where the moonlight shines so he can see her better.

There’s this voice in the back of his head telling him that he knows her.

The girl is now shaking and violently crying.

Her face hidden away, looking the floor.

Crouching, annoyed, his hand gripping the girls’ face. It’s his first time touching a human in centuries, he forgot how…soft and meek they are.

Girl flinching slightly at the touch, her cheeks will have fingerprint-like bruises.

Pretty face illuminated by the moon.

He does remember her.

“Hinata”

Hinata POV

Her fear rendered her unmoving, she isn’t even crying anymore. Eyes opening up, looking into the red eyes of the…creature.

He looks human enough, but he has black horns that turn red at the tips, his ears are pointy, there are black and red scales on his neck, a big and heavy tail behind him.

…

A d-dragon?

~

Autor Note: For a somewhat depiction of what I mean about Sasuke’s form in this story look up ‘Imbibitor Lunae’ from Honkai Star Rail, aka the 5 star version of Dan Heng. That’s where I kinda took inspiration from. Pretty dragon boy.  

~

@sasuhinamonth

[erebusvincent]

1. The chest burster in “Alien.” The shocking scene that launched a franchise. John Hurt’s bloody death scene pushed the first movie’s horrific delights to new heights, instilling the characters with a sense of existential dread. Not only can these creatures kill you, but they can change you from the inside out. It set the bar for the psychosexual horror to follow.

2. The airlock ejection in “Alien.” Just how frayed can your nerves get? By the end of Ridley Scott’s 1979 film, viewers are pushed to the very edge of their seats after witnessing Sigourney Weaver’s Ellen Ripley finally make her way off the Nostromo, only to find the alien stowed away on her escape pod! The sequels follow up on this coda and take viewers out on a high note, like the even bigger airlock scene in “Aliens,” Ripley’s sacrifice in “Alien 3” and David’s reveal at the end of “Covenant.”

3. The unforgettable action of “Aliens.” James Cameron picked up everything (and then some) that Ridley Scott was putting down when he took the reins for the 1986 sequel. But rather than marinate in the dread-inducing vibes of the original, he brought the movies some of the best sci-fi action ever put to film, starring tough marines like Bill Paxton and untrustworthy corporate suits like Paul Reiser. Add to that a sprinkling of unforgettable lines like “Game over, man!” and “Get away from her, you bitch!” and you’ve got a franchise standout. 

(Now I strongly disagree with these last two. The scenes in Alien 3 of the prisoners trapping the alien and of the chestburster being born at the very end, as well as the scene of the Queen giving birth to the hybrid in Alien Resurrection, are all far superior to anything in Prometheus and Covenant.)

4. The arrogant humans of “Prometheus.” Scott’s return to the franchise he spawned was a critical misfire, but the film has benefited from reconsideration in the time since its 2012 release. That the characters in the film act in ways that betray the scientific nature of their mission — a common critique of the film upon its release — is part and parcel of the franchise’s overall themes. It takes quite a bit of hubris to believe you are capable of taming an unknown species. It’s simply poetic justice when the aliens proceed to tear through the crew.

5. David meets Walter in “Alien: Covenant.” One may define a film franchise by the moments that make it “feel” like part of a greater universe, but the best moments in each movie are those most distinct from the others. And Scott’s decision to explore cyberpunk ideas and themes of post-human civilizations in “Alien: Covenant” is one of them. The interactions between David and Walter, both roles played by Michael Fassbender, allow the audience to see a side of the franchise’s other non-human characters. What happens when the mission-oriented androids aren’t stopped? “Covenant” gives us a terrifying peek at what that looks like.

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

Whumpee has died at the hands of Whumper. Brutally, torturously, and just moments before Caretaker had finally put all the pieces together to find them. By the time they arrive, it's too late, Whumpee is already cold and gone.

But Caretaker can't let that happen.

They were so close, so fucking close to saving Whumpee. It's not fair that their suffering ended so cruelly. It's not fair the ordeal Whumpee had to go through, probably clinging onto the hope that Caretaker would swoop in and save the day only to be let down in their final breath. So Caretaker wraps up their stiff, broken body and takes it home just as they had wished they could have done when Whumpee was still alive.

They're no necromancer, or priest, or anything of the sort, Caretaker knows it's possible to force the soul back into the body. What they don't know, however, is the correct way to do so, only referencing texts too old to read and hidden online forums. Horror movies made it look so easy that a group of drunk teens could do it by accident, but horror movies also showed the horrific nature of a ritual gone wrong.

Caretaker doesn't know where they went wrong, if they had even done any of the archaic steps right in the first place. They thought they were being precise, careful, they thought they had everything planned out to a T. But it all went horribly wrong. The ritual was botched. The resurrection brought back a life that was incomplete, only knowing how to suffer in this host the same way it had perished.

It kills Caretaker to see Whumpee writhing in agony with no relief available. This isn't a broken bone or a busted lip that could be mended with TLC. Their mottled body contorts and cracks as they thrash, their mouth gurgling cries of pain that are often drowned out with black blood, their eyes devoid of life desperately searching for anything to put them out of their misery.

Yet no matter how much Whumpee begs, pleads, sobs with Caretaker to let them die, to please just let them rest has they once had, Caretaker can't bring themself to do it. They just got Whumpee back, they can't bear to lose them again so suddenly. They know Whumpee is in continual agony being alive for their own selfish comfort, but they'll find a way to fix it! They just need time! Then Whumpee and Caretaker can be together again!

Days turn to weeks. Weeks turn to months. Caretaker has had to resort to unpleasant measures to keep Whumpee's antics to a minimum. They've been bound to a bed to prevent them from trying to claw out their veins. They've been gagged to muffle the screams of sorrow that kept Caretaker up at night. They're given jabs and concoctions of things meant to lessen the pain which often only make it worse.

Caretaker doesn't know what to do. Everything they do only causes more pain to a person already existing in torment. A part of them knows the humane thing to do would be to end Whumpee's suffering, yet they can't stomach the thought of having to be the one to snuff out the life they wrongly brought back. Are they any better than Whumper in that regard, to keep someone alive and in a state of pure agony for selfish gain?

No. Whumper tortured them to be cruel, Caretaker is doing this out of love. And sometimes love hurts, sometimes love needs a sacrifice.

Perhaps the idea of a sacrifice was the key ingredient all along when one night, so lost in research of how to reverse a resurrection, Caretaker failed to notice the creeping presence behind them. The chill down their spine came as a warning too late when Whumpee lunged for them, tackling down to the ground with an inhumane strength.

It's a ghastly sight to see someone Caretaker once loved look so...angry. So vile, so putrid, like a corpse rotting from the inside out. There's virtually no trace of sweet, gentle Whumpee left in the husk, and Caretaker had to wonder if they had ever been there at all.

"You were supposed to protect me. You were supposed to take care of me," Whumpee hisses through bloody teeth. "You brought me back just to suffer. Why couldn't you just let me stay dead?!"

Before Caretaker can respond, not that any response would have been good enough for their liking, two clammy hands find their way to their throat and squeeze. Dirty nails bit against the skin, drawing pinpricks of blood whilst silencing any gasps. Caretaker flails, though it's no use under Whumpee's supernatural strength, and the best they can do it silently search for any remaining signs of Whumpee in those sunken eyes.

There are none.

"You're a lot like Whumper, keeping me around for sick pleasure. Let's see how you like it when someone plays God."

[torikengel]

Thomas Hewitt x Reader (Part 12)

You broke down in tears. Luda and Monty, not knowing what happened, had assumed you were crying because you didn’t manage to escape. However, Hoyt knew what you’ve done.

“I must admit girly, you did well.” Hoyt gave you a pat on the back and smirked. Everyone was taken aback by his reaction. He really didn’t like you one bit until this point, and now he was praising you? You tried rubbing your eyes dry, still in complete shock. Well, you smeared blood all over your face. That’s when Luda noticed the blood on your hand as well.

“Darlin’, what happened?” she questioned you, but you were unable to let out a single word.

“You wouldn’t believe it ma, she actually got one of those guys.” Hoyt menacingly laughed, and both Luda, as well as Monty finally understood why you were acting this way. Luda rushed over to you with a rug to clean your face and tried her best to offer you support, but you finally spoke out.

“Thomas.” Left your lips as you glanced over at him and crawled towards him. He was in a terrible state, still bleeding. You had to help him, right? Luda Mae shifted her attention back to Thomas and told Hoyt to get some alcohol to disinfect his wounds. Thomas didn’t move; he just groaned in pain, lying on the floor. You couldn’t lift him to put him on the couch as he was too heavy. You got rid of his apron and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal deep gashes on his stomach and shoulder. You knew well how he ended up with the latter one, but the one on the stomach must’ve been from the basement.

You could only imagine what happened there. How the guys managed to escape? How had they overpowered Thomas? This remained a mystery.

Hoyt came back with alcohol, a needle, and some thread to close the wounds. Luda stitched Thomas’s injuries. However, something still bothered you. When Thomas chased you, he was awfully slow… You checked his leg, only to find a pool of blood forming under him. They cut his thigh too. You pointed it out to Luda, and she hurried to the kitchen for scissors to get through his pants. You kneeled above Thomas and caressed his cheek.

“Tommy… please hold on.” You tried to calm him down, or more likely yourself. Thomas just looked you in the eyes. It made your heart flutter, the way he looked at you. Such expressive and beautiful eyes he had. Yeah, you could understand why you fell for this man… so much that you gave up your freedom and people who loved you. Everyone would think you are crazy, and maybe you were. You gave Thomas a gentle smile. Then Luda returned and treated the wound on his leg, which was the deepest one. Thomas was lucky that he didn’t bleed out. You waited a while before you, Luda, and Hoyt gathered all your strength and, with a bit of help from Thomas, placed him on the couch so that he would be more comfortable. Then you finally accepted the rug from Luda and cleaned your face from the blood.

*

Thomas, exhausted and after losing so much blood, slowly drifted to sleep. Luda and Monty didn’t want to disturb him, so they both left. You kneeled down next to Thomas and ran your fingers through his hair.

“Tommy…” you hummed his name lovingly. “I hope you have a beautiful dream.”

This incident made you realize just how much you were captivated by this man. You couldn’t bear to lose him, and it made you sacrifice your innocence and humanity towards ‘outsiders’… well, that’s how Hewitts called their victims. But you were an outsider too, weren’t you? Hoyt crept behind you with cuffs in his hand. He was prepared to take you back to your room and lock you up again. You were so concentrated on Thomas and didn’t hear a thing. You placed your forehead onto the couch next to his head.

Hoyt was bewildered by the scene in front of him and, after thinking about it for a while, hid the cuffs behind his back as he spoke: “I’ll leave ya with Tommy boy, don’t do anythin’ stupid, missy.” He still had that condescending tone in his voice, but his actions didn’t mirror the way he spoke this time.

“I will just be here… sir.” You mumbled, not wanting to wake Thomas. Hoyt disappeared from the room, and you were left alone with sleeping, Thomas.

Oh, how easy would it be just to run away now. And you were so foolish to refuse such an opportunity. To be honest, you didn’t understand your feelings at all. This family was dangerous. They murdered people, yet here you were, trying to get comfortable among them and even stooping to their level by following their practice of killing and eating people.

For what?

Right.

For him.

You sighed as you looked at Thomas’s sleeping face. He was so… well, he had his mask on, so you couldn’t say he had an adorable expression. You cautiously untied his mask and got it out of his face. It must’ve been uncomfortable anyway, plus you’ve already seen what was under it. You examined his face. He was unexplainably handsome to you, his expression was so soft and gentle, you couldn’t help to feel sad about his life. Society turned him into a monster… If he only got a chance to have a normal life… to you, he was very kind, strong and smart. Well, he had street smarts, and it could’ve been different if he wasn’t denied studying. Until now, you didn’t want to admit what you felt.

“Thomas Hewitt… I love you.” You whispered as you gave him a peck on his lips. Then you sat in Monty’s armchair and closed your eyes, thinking that Thomas didn’t hear you. However, just as you stood up and left his side, Thomas’s lips curved into a smile.

*

You woke up all sore from the uncomfortable position you fell asleep in. Well, what could you expect from an armchair? It was still early in the morning; the sun was barely up yet. Thomas was comfortably snoring on the couch, but otherwise, the house was completely quiet. You decided to clean yourself when you realized that your hand and clothes were still bloody. A horrific remainder of your sin. You went up the stairs to your room to find a clean t-shirt and shorts. Then you went to the bathroom to wash yourself. While you were happy, feeling a bit accepted in the Hewitt’s family and that you could freely move around the house, your absence raised suspicion as Hoyt came to the living room from outside. He almost forgot about the bodies outside, so he woke up early in the morning to get them to the basement. He was already getting angry when he couldn’t find you, but then you came down, all pretty and clean with a smile on your face.

“Mornin’, Sheriff Hoyt.” You cheerfully greeted him to give a good impression. Not that you liked this man, he creeped you out, but you really wanted to stay on his good side. The last thing you wanted him to do was rape or kill you.

“Mornin’,” he replied, a bit annoyed that you made him worry this early.

*

Hoyt was busy with the bodies in the basement, he knew Thomas wouldn’t be able to do it, and he didn’t want the meat to go bad. You were sitting on the floor next to sleeping Thomas, observing him. When Thomas finally opened his eyes, you greeted him by gently hugging him. He was stoked to see your beautiful face when he woke up—what a perfect morning. But then he felt the breeze on his bare face, and he panicked, touching his face to make sure his mask is really gone.

“No, no, don’t worry about it. Here it is. I just thought it would be uncomfortable to sleep in it.” You apologized and handed over his mask. He quickly grabbed the mask, but before he managed to put it back on his face, you cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips against his. Thomas just melted into the kiss. He loved it when he could feel the warmth of your body. Your sincere and loving touch was everything to him. When you parted, you smiled at him and asked: “Do you feel better, Tommy?” He nodded, but it was obvious that he was still in pain.

“Shit!” you heard Hoyt curse, abruptly interrupting your moment with Thomas.

“What happened, Sheriff Hoyt?” you asked politely as he stormed out of the basement.

He didn’t answer, just threw a phone on the floor. You looked at the screen. Last called numbers and a date… That guy must’ve called someone for help as they were escaping… Which meant danger was coming your way. You looked at Thomas with fear in your eyes. He grabbed your hand and made you sit on the couch next to him, and held you in a close embrace in an attempt to calm you down. However, he was a bit scared himself as he wasn't in the best position to defend his family.

A/N:  Well... now you just really have to keep Thomas safe and comfortable before he heals... but it will keep getting interesting.

[lilibetbombshell]

!!!ARC REVIEW!!!

"SUMMER SONS"

BY: LEE MANDELO

RELEASE DAY IS TODAY, 09.28.2021!!!

GO ORDER YOUR COPY NOW!!!

RATING: 5 STARS!!!

You don’t have to be a believer in the paranormal or supernatural to have a healthy fear of the Appalachian Mountains and what deep, dark secrets lie beneath them. You don’t have to be a genius to know that the land itself in and around those mountains holds just as many deep and dark secrets, and many of those are more fresh and filled with blood and pain created not by geological time, but by humans themselves.

I was very tempted, with my ADD, geography degree, and manic energy after reading this fantastic book, to go off on a tangent about just how old the Appalachian Mountains are and about formation and what lies beneath and about how there’s so much we have yet to discover about this ancient mountain range still, but I took a deep breath, took a step back, and marinated on what needed to be said about this book that people needed to hear.

This book is set in and around Vanderbilt University, which is located in Nashville, which is located in Tennessee. So, from the start, we’ve got a private university that was paid for by Andrew Carnegie (a wealthy white man from the north) but presided over by a Methodist Epsicopalian Bishop who believed slavery was human nature, which is located in a confederate state whose eastern side is part of the Appalachians. There’s a lot to unpack there: socially, politically, economically, culturally… and this book dips a toe into a few of these things. It can’t help not to, because it all ties together. But this book is really about what people don’t like to talk about. The topics they try to skirt around. The ugly things: the blood soaked deep in the soil, the evil steeped in generations of people (and then the lack of evil in some people and the need to protect them from it), the pressure to publish or perish, systemic racism in academia, internalized homophobia, regrets, the things people will do to stave off death, and the things people will and won’t do for love.

And, of course, it’s about cool stuff too: the ancient magic in the land, the sacrifices the land requires to maintain it, curses, hauntings, American folklore, revenants, street-racing, bad boys, drugs, drinking, and necromantic magic.

This is, by no means, a fast read. Like the south tends to be, it moves slow. Reading this book is like taking a walk through black tar molasses while breathing that thick, humid air.

Andrew, our main character, is going through the same thing, and that’s why we’re going through it. We must endure what he does, because this is his story, and we move as he moves. He’s struggling. He’s sluggishly trying to move through life ever since his best friend, Eddie, committed suicide only days before Andrew was to join him at Vanderbilt. He’s suffocating on all the things he never got to say, aimless because he doesn’t know how to live without his best friend, and he’s clueless about what to do with the fortune, friends, and research Eddie left to him. He’s completely lost save the one thing he’s absolutely certain of: Eddie didn’t kill himself. So we, the reader, have to sit in the passenger seat as Andrew throws himself helplessly at idea after idea, trying to grasp onto anything at all that will help him prove Eddie didn’t kill himself. Meanwhile, he’s trying to come to terms with feelings he’d long shut in a box and put a lock on, trying to figure out who he can trust and who he can’t, trying to figure out how to let go and have a good time while he can, and trying to keep a grasp on reality even as a curse that had bound he and Eddie together since childhood keeps trying to drag him down into the ground.

This book is astoundingly good. It’s languid, horrific, slick, bloody, sticky, lazy, intense, sultry, cold, mysterious, frightful, and a well-deserved finger pointed at all of us as a reminder that no matter what you build on top of it, physical or otherwise, the land is the land, and the land holds multitudes of humanities sins.

[the-writer-reem-shadili]

#Guardians of the temple Ankhritos

or

Cursed Book of Temple Keepers #

( a novel )

✍✍✍✍✍✍✍✍✍

By Reem Shadili

Translated to english

part One ( 1 )

✍✍✍✍

"The Cursed Book", that might sound like a proper title for a movie, right??

Starring as James Bond

Fida in all international cinema halls.

But hey!!

Does the hidden government allow this??!!

Does the one-eyed antichrist allow this??!!

I don't think so at all, it's impossible!!

Because this book is one of the most dangerous cursed books on the face of the earth, which caused wars and bloody epics for kings who suffered from horrific endings, including revolting and chilling, and princesses and princes from royal families whose end was tragic because of this cursed book that, if it entered a land, a city, or a palace, but made Whoever in it is like the dead, and the ghosts of demons play and plunder during the day and howl at night, and lie in bed with the great people, having sex with ease and giving birth to the young demons who will rule the world later, after their blood is mixed with the blood of royal humankind.

It is a book that makes everyone who reads it crazy and unbalanced, making everyone who reads or touches it wish for death.

Because it is the gateway of demons to the human world,

Therefore, reader, do not be alarmed by what you will read in this novel, for the truth is more difficult to say once or to believe a single sentence, not only now, but as it has been throughout the ages.

The truth will not be seen in its entirety, because not all minds comprehend the events and observations going on around them.

And not all souls can stand the truth that is stripped of all artificial paint or colors with the taste of sugar and vanilla.

In this talk, you will know many things that you are not aware of... but let me tell you something very important...

I'm just telling you the truth,

And because the truth is absent from you, I will tell you in parts, piece by piece.

And because your small mind may not comprehend these great things.

So focus on me well, from now on you will only hear my rough voice in your big ears.

Where do you want to start?!

Shall we start centuries ago?

Or do we start from the terrifying palace (Satan Caesus)??

Or do we start with the era of the pharaohs??!

Or from the time of "George Washington"??!!

Or do we start with the church in which “George Bush” learned and how he came to see God in his dreams, and how he used to give him orders to conquer the world??!!

Or do we start with the bohemian jungle??!!

Or from the time of the Soviets??!!

Or from the time of the great conspiracies??!!

Or from the Church of Vice and Sorcery??!!

Or how do the "temple guards" practice immorality in

Daylight with the people of Lot??!!

Or how did the “temple guards” come to rule the world from money to politics to women to rulers??!!

Or are we talking about the influence of the underworld on the world of humans and how they can control them??!!

Or are you afraid and want to know only the part that interests you in how to get rid of this bad world, the world of immorality and demons. And how to get rid of them and overcome them all??!!

What do you think??!!

Are you afraid??!! Are you afraid??!!

I apologize to you, the reader, and you, the reader, but the truth is in order to be able to know it, you must also know the dark side of it that controls it, otherwise there is no salvation for you without knowledge.

The question now is: Have you chosen the topic you want to talk about?!!

Or are you confused and he is confused as usual??!!

So let me choose for you, um, what do you think?

Shall we start from that (church) which is in the middle of the city of Rome, the “Church of Saints and Mujahideen” who left

The world and what is in it, that they may worship their “god.”

This is the desired day when the bells are sounded and human sacrifices are sacrificed to be presented to their bloody god, the “God of Light” “Lucifer” as they describe it, so I tell you do not panic.

Do not be afraid of what you will know and hear in a world full of darkness.

Do not run away, dear reader, and do not close your eyes when the scene shocks you, so I warn you.. If you cannot, do not approach this church, because it is the church of Satan.

And do not approach this novel because it is my story..not

The writer's novel.

Come on then I will take you with me from history to history and from dimension to dimension and from layer to layer, if you are not psychologically prepared, do not continue reading, and run away very far..even without shoes.

So, would you like to enter that church with me???

Do you see it now??!!

It's right there where it was hundreds of years ago.

We will not enter through the big door, but from

《Pastor Lombardo's Entrance》This entrance will lead us to what's under the church, let's go down the narrow stairs quietly, we are now six floors underground, and now tell me do you smell this??!!

It is the smell of satanic "incense" to prepare the place,

Do you hear those loud noises???

They are not the sounds of celebrations, but rather the sounds of people being tormented.... Yes, it is. I told you that if you are not ready, go back, do not enter with me through this door, because if you enter it, you will not leave it until you complete the novel

Yes, as I heard, it is not a threat, but a warning!!

If the decision is up to you,

.........thought

.........Think well

.......... Rethink

So you decided to continue the novel, right??!!,

Well, I'll open the door quietly...

Do not be afraid, because they will not see you, because you are hidden from their red eyes.

But .... if your soul is foul and they smell your scent, do not blame me ... I have nothing to do with it,

They can reach you anywhere on earth

If you are the owner of a bad breath, be sure that you will see them tonight, and they may torture you and the Jathoom may visit you... Yes, the Jathoom... But please tell me if someone visits you, you may be innocent... Only I can help you get rid of them.

So try to enter quietly.

Come on in, do you see this blood scattered everywhere and these bodies??!!

Exactly here the (vampires) of the human beings were celebrating sacrifices, do you see that man standing there in the middle of the circle cheering incomprehensible words??

Yes, that person who wears a red cloak,

It's the head of the church 《Antonio》 cast a spell to bring demons, do you see those naked girls there and handcuffed on the table??

They are the sacrifices of (Satan Caesus) and his disciples.

Now in the presence of “majestic” priests and veteran clergy will declare their allegiance to “Lucifer”, so be prepared that you will see the most heinous crimes,

It is a crime of survival,

crime of force,

crime of lust,

crime of pleasure,

That's how they call it

...

After slaughtering the sacrifices and drinking their blood, the declaration of loyalty and obedience is an obligatory matter.

So do not look at those naked and stripped bodies lying on the church table,

And leave you those beautiful women who are standing there while they are having sex in the most horrific way possible, because they are in fact just demons in human form, Here in this world that you entered with your feet, you will see and hear the ugliest words and the worst possible letters.

Here in this world you will see the dead eating the living, then you will see them eating the children while they are alive.

And you will see who among them still drinks blood and practices vice with the priests who claim to protect the sanctuaries and and and ... and all

These slogans...

Forget everything they say on TV .

and color magazines, all that absurdity,

Never mind, oh, hear me well, and do not look there, for I see those looks that made you see the world in black, and listen to those words that I shall say to you, perhaps they

Never leave your thick head

Do not believe a religious man whose eyes are round... Nor a politician whose eyes are glaring... Nor a man who claimed your friendship and eyes on your life and your pocket... Do not believe anyone... Because the time of friendship

is over , Just believe in yourself...Believe in yourself,

Did you know who I am??

No of course . . . .

You certainly will not know me.

How do you know who I am??!!

But it's okay. I will tell you my news. I am the servant of the Bible. My name is ( Jamon Lombardy ), from the village of ( Jericho) , and my mother is from the town of Khan Yunis. I wrote this book with ink of blood. Anyone who reads it will be cursed, and it is a forbidden and cursed book. .

You will ask me why??

And I will tell you the story and the truth that you will not know in

any other place.

I will be very frank with you to the point of astonishment,

Five thousand five hundred years ago I made a deal with

(Lucifer) in order to convey all the secrets of the underworld to this book, but on its terms and requirements, and in exchange for it that I obtain supernatural power and life without death .

I was a very ordinary young man from a Jewish family, plowing the land and watering the crops. All the girls and women of the village wished to see me, and because I had the physical strength and intelligence that made me special and among the strongest of the village’s youth, a rich man asked me to be his bodyguard who guarded him from bandits, For a very large sum of money, I agreed at once because it was an irreplaceable opportunity.

He was a wealthy man, and had a luxurious mansion, which he filled with all that he wanted, but he had no wife or children. He was a reprehensible man, with a hump on his right shoulder, glaring eyes, and curly hair, and they called him "Komoro bethawon "

Throughout my work with him, I did not see him eat like humans, sleep like them, or even look at women!! ,

Sometimes I saw him entering the palace door, although I'm sure he never came out!!

How did he get out again??!!

After a year, completely and completely, he asked me a very strange request,

He asked me to share his dinner with him, and the problem was that his dinner was disgusting. Every day he ate one of the children who were kidnapped at sunset, in addition to drinking the blood extracted from their bodies. At first I categorically refused, but he took me to a room I don't know about. Although I know the palace, inch by inch, but it was the first time I saw this room, as if it had no end, filled with gold, mountains like mountains my eyes had never seen before, treasures and statues of gold, something like an incredible imagination.

While I was touching those jewels and that stored gold, the owner of the palace called "Komuro" spoke softly, saying: Do you see all this gold?

I said to him with confidence: Why are you not afraid that I will kill you and seize everything you own, especially since you have no family, and I am a strong young man that no one can confront me??!!

But he laughed loudly and turned to me and said, "I hope you'll try just to see what happens to you, handsome one."

While (the owner of the palace) was leaving that room, I saw bright eyes everywhere, and they were scary eyes, so that they started making noises like the sounds of wild beasts, which made me go out quickly, as soon as I came out until I closed the door hard as if someone had locked it, I went quickly Behind "Komoro bethawon "

And I ask him and I say: Who the hell are you??

Who was in the room??

But he did not pay any attention to me. He sat down on his chair and asked me to sit down to share his supper, while he drank his glass full of blood. All my prey trembled with fear, and I, who had never been afraid in my life, sat down and shared dinner with him, though it was disgusting to the point of nausea.

My plate was raw, uneven steak with blood still on it.

But all my thoughts were in that room full of all those treasures and precious gold, I was thinking how I could get it and it had its guards guarding it, so there was no solution to take all those treasures except with this "cursed dinner", I said it was dinner for one day and it became From the rich, it's okay.. I will bid farewell to poverty once and for all, and I will bid farewell to the miserable life I was living,

Today if you ask me do you regret that night??

My answer: I have reached a point where regret is no longer useful.

This heart no longer feels remorse or fear,

My body is empty of feelings and emotions.

And I reached the point to be or not to be.. It's only the end,

After we finished dinner, he asked me to go down with him to the basement of the palace, there in a room I had never seen in my life. It was a black room filled with half-human monsters and snakes. As soon as they saw me, they threw themselves on my body and tore my clothes and had sex with me over and over again without my will. I was as if I was a tool to satisfy their sexual instincts, and as if they were thirsty for sex with a human being, I could hear them screaming in different voices??!! ,

As for me, I did nothing but be completely submissive to them.

On the morning of the second day, he asked me to go with him to the same room, but I refused, except that he told me this time it would be different,

When we went down, no one was there but a small desk, red ink and a blank book, and he asked me to carry everything

Found in these leather manuscripts to the book,

When I asked him what this was, he said that it was the "Secrets of Solomon" and that I had to write them all with this red ink, which is the blood of cursed demons mixed with the blood of men.

The wrongdoers and the blood of virgin girls.

Throughout my time in that room from which I did not come out, I could hear frightening noises until morning, except for those serpents that would circle around me every night until the last third of the night and then disappear after they had sex with me

Until I completed (The Cursed Book), which took me forty days, which was full of incantations, types of magic, how to use them, their rituals, and the names of demons and servants of the underworld.

And on the last night the serpents came and brought me news that they had given birth to me young serpents and that they were my children. My shock was indescribable... Four serpents gave birth to thirty-three serpents. The upper half looked like humans and the lower half looked exactly like a serpent, except for one that was completely human, except That her eyes are like the eyes of a serpent, I called her "Leona"

After forty days I came out of the room with the book in my hand and thirty-three serpents named after my name (haha)

really strange,

(He is the one who can sleep and wake up in the morning, he has the flu and he does not have a clogged soul to eat, not even how many dishes are stuffed.. but he enters a room and when he comes out, he has a pile of meat, excuse me, life, in the name of God, Masha Allah.. Thirty-three live except one and a cursed book.. From you to God, Komoru... Haha)

It was " Komoru bethawon"

He is waiting for me in the gold room, and he is happy to say to me : Today you have the right to all this wealth.

Surely you will die now of envy and wish you were in my place, forty days have passed and I will become one of the richest... Rather, one of the richest men on the face of the world.

But I apologized to him and asked him to leave me alone , I was no longer greedy for that gold or that wealth , My intuition was telling me that it was not the end... but only the beginning....

And my hunch is true.

And because I am talking to you from the underworld .

Here there is nothing like above .

There is nothing like humans .

Nothing like what you know .

There is nothing here but murder, sex and conspiracy.

Here you hear them plotting against human beings, how to kill them and enter them into wars, and how to make them obsessed with sex and money.

Here no one sleeps but a little as if they are taking an evening nap .

Here everyone is practicing with everyone .

Here there are no morals or mercy .

Here there is no emotion or comfort.

Here you are either with them or you will never be .

It is a base...!!

What did you say, reader ??!!

Did I hear you correctly ??!!

Are you asking me what I did ??!!

The question itself is wrong,

You have to ask me what I have become ??!!

"Four thousand years later"

Do you see what I see today??

Do you smell this scent that fills the streets??

The world is struggling with death, all the streets of Rome are fighting

black death again .

Today is Sunday of the year 2020, I am here witness to the terrible event, in the middle of " the Vatican" , witness to the history of " Rome" and "europe" with this outbreak.

It's a "devil epidemic."

Whoever believes in him become one body, and whoever does not believe in him turns away from him, but he is one of our secrets, we are the hidden world .

Don't tire your little mind thinking, we don't get anything wrong,

We are "holy"

You make me laugh....because you are arrogant, arrogant, and a selfish person who only thinks of himself, yet you want to know everything, you curious one.

Listen to me well.. it is one word I will say, and because the journey is still in its beginning and we are still in the first chapters, then hear me :

It is the epidemic that we have been working on for centuries to kill humanity and reduce its increasing growth!!

Do you think this pandemic is the last??!!

So, you are naive and stupid !!

İt's just because...

it's only the beginning

✍✍✍✍✍✍✍✍✍.

End of the first part of the novel

" Guardians of the Temple "

" Ancheretos"

✍✍✍✍

______

I apologize to the reader for the harsh terms and images that were mentioned by the central character in this novel, but they are scenes of their filth that explain the truth.

🙏🙏🙏

by

#Reem_shadili

[thebluelemontree]

I know GRRM has previously stated that ADwD!Tyrion is at his lowest point, but I find it very hard to see how he will ever redeem himself given what he has done and what he has participated in. Do you believe readers gloss over the tragedies he faces i.e. slavery, the Tysha revelation, and do you see path for redemption?

I think with the fandom in general there does seem to be a proportional relationship to the amount of careful consideration people give their problematic favs versus how little they give to a character that is decidedly not their fav. Full disclosure: Tyrion is not one of my favs. There are moments I don’t like him and I don’t personally connect with him. He’s deliberately written to be someone most readers will wrestle with. Out of all the POVs, he’s probably the most psychologically complex and fraught with a minefield of trauma-induced hot buttons. As we know, profound trauma and horrific family dynamics rarely produce saintly victims who suffer beautifully, quietly, and always behave magnanimously. I am by no means an expert on Tyrion; however, I do know he definitely started out as a good person. Early AGOT Tyrion is a pretty decent fellow who validated Jon’s feelings of anger and resentment and designed a saddle to accommodate Bran’s disability for no other reason than he just empathized with them both. Even later on, he does stand up for Sansa against Joffrey’s cruelty, even though their marriage was a miserable farce and act of war against her family. Sansa seems to bear no personal ill-will toward him despite it. I think we should leave room for the possibility the impression he made with small kindnesses in the beginning could come back around to foster peace and mutual forgiveness between the Starks and Lannisters toward the end. 

But before that he was a sweet, loving kid until he was brutally disabused of the notion that anyone could possibly love him. I can’t imagine anything worse than your own father violently raping by proxy two innocent kids for the crime of his son being happy and believing for one single second that he was loved for himself. He’s experienced a lifetime of continuous physical, sexual, mental, and verbal abuse on top of ableist bigotry and repeated scapegoating that nearly cost him his life more than once. For all his dark gray, unlikable moments, it’s actually kind of a miracle that Tyrion still retains what goodness he does have when he could have been totally fucked up beyond repair, without any pity or compassion left in him, and hating all of humanity with every fiber of his being.   

GRRM does a good job of delivering blow after intensifying blow leading up to the moment he snaps and murders Tywin and Shae.There’s the overwhelming stress of the trial for the regicide he was framed for, one where his guilt and conviction is a foregone conclusion. The public humiliation and betrayal of Shae’s false testimony where his sexuality is served up for mockery. The people of KL are literally bloodthirsty and cheering for his death. There’s the momentary hope and crushing defeat of Oberyn Martell championing him in the trial by combat. Then finally Jaime drops the Tysha bomb. I mean, wow... it’s a lot. It’s totally understandable why he goes to the Hand’s tower to confront his father instead of escaping immediately. Personally, I don’t think he has to be sorry about killing Tywin at all. That pile of excrement had it coming and deserved a painful, ignoble death on the shitter at minimum. Shae is the only one there that has enough mitigating factors to say she definitely didn’t deserve to be strangled to death, though I get how it happened in the heat of the moment under intense mental duress. I think he needs to atone for that one, and I say that as someone who thinks Shae is a callous, conniving, greedy, low-level bloodsucker without any redeeming qualities. Yet, killing either of them, especially Tywin, didn’t bring Tyrion any peace or satisfaction whatsoever. Kinslaying is still up there with the most cursed of transgressions. It’s major part of his spiral into the tormented abyss we see in ADWD.  

It’s been a long time since I read ADWD as it’s not my favorite part of the series, so my memory of all the details is not the best. And like I said, I am not an expert on Tyrion. The general impression I get is that Tyrion thinks that he thinks he hates humanity and he’s finally become the monster everyone believed him to be. So he rages against practically everything and everyone. He certainly harbors a hatred for the people of KL and the sister sitting on the throne. There is a high probability he acts upon those feelings and helps usher in a catastrophic tragedy out of vengeance. Just as an example, he is aware of the wildfire cache sitting under KL and that knowledge can be used in a really bad way. Might be that crossing a point of no return, which may feel glorious in the moment, is ironically the thing that causes him to recoil in horror and regret after the dust settles. Consider Tyrion’s dream about the duality of himself: 

That night Tyrion Lannister dreamed of a battle that turned the hills of Westeros as red as blood. He was in the midst of it, dealing death with an axe as big as he was, fighting side by side with Barristan the Bold and Bittersteel as dragons wheeled across the sky above them. In the dream he had two heads, both noseless. His father led the enemy, so he slew him once again. Then he killed his brother, Jaime, hacking at his face until it was a red ruin, laughing every time he struck a blow. Only when the fight was finished did he realize that his second head was weeping.

If the two heads are both noseless, then they are both present day Tyrion. There are two sides of him right now that are equally capable of reveling in bloody vengeance and weeping for someone he still loves even though they wounded him deeply. 

Then what? Well, the thing about hitting your lowest point is that you can either dwell there until you fatally self-destruct or you can find your way back up. Granted, ADWD Tyrion is in a dark place, but there’s still space to get even darker for at least a little while in TWOW. It is possible Tyrion spends the rest of his life atoning for his worst actions during this period, using his intellectual gifts (even the parts that are Tywin writ small) to serve the needs of the people he has harmed. And it does make good story sense for someone who grew to hate humanity for very understandable reasons still found it in himself to care about it enough to save it. Even sacrifice himself for it if necessary since there’s a strong possibility he is a dragon rider. Since all signs seem to point to him ultimately playing a heroic role against the Others, we can rule out the idea that he just says good riddance to bad rubbish and laughs while the world ends. That has to mean something, right? 

There is always a path for redemption for anyone who sees the wrong of what they’ve done, has heartfelt remorse, and commits themselves to meaningful and lasting change. It’s not really about forgiveness at all, although that sometimes happens alongside redemption and it’s certainly easier for people to forgive once they see change. Redemption is work the character must do themselves for the right reasons. It’s not a status granted to them by other people. In fact, it’s probably more sincere when someone decides to do right anyway even if no one ever thinks better of them. If Tyrion (or any other character) is unforgivable to you, then the best worst thing that could happen is that they have to live a long life and spend all of it repaying their karmic debt. Even if he’s not my fav or your fav, a lot of people out there still do relate to him and the things he’s been through. A lot of people are not okay and not good victims from the trauma they’ve suffered. Fiction with redemption that is possible for anyone gives people hope that they could be better too, and there’s no other instance in the books that makes me think GRRM is cynical about redemption. The only way redemption isn’t happening for Tyrion is if he choses not pursue it. 

[borderlandsthirst]

The City of the COV

The City of the COV

The Shopping District

The place to get your latest COV fashions from baggy hazard pants to freshly stitched psycho masks, you can even buy looted enemy mods for you guns and grenades here.

Fresh, recently killed Pandoran meat can also be purchased here. From skag, to spiderant, to varkid and all the other horrific things this planet has to offer. And human, and meat is the only thing anyone here eats.

You can also get more tattoos added to your body here as long as you don’t cover the symbol of the Gods.

Food, echo mods, and clothes are yours here. 

The Working District

Here is where work is done, the twins didn’t want the labor area to be in or near the Cathedral, best to keep that somewhere else where they don’t have to see it every day.

Here you’ll find the engineering department, weapon manufacturing facility, and everything else except the spa. Which is attached to the Cathedral on the lower level, Troy and Tyreen visit often. Someone fell asleep in there once.

The hospital is never full nor does it ever have many patients, if a follower is severely hurt then they are sent to the Cathedral for Tyreen to leech, no need to let good energy go to waste right?

The Holy Church

This is where the followers come to pray and give offerings, as well as where the sacrifice ceremonies, initiations and sermons take place.

The church looms over the gate leading into the city, it’s the second tallest building in the main hub of the COV. Initiations are very quick, a hot iron or lengthy tattoo across your back or chest and then you’re sent to the chapel to receive your welcome video from the twins.

Sermons are held every Sunday at six in the morning, every follower and priest is expected to attend every sermon, failure to do so results in death. Each sermon is at least three hours long.

Sacrifices are also once a week because of how extra bloody they are, depending on the mood of the twins and the angel, there might be blood all the way up to the ceiling.  

The Fun Square

This is where the twins get into trouble, bars, strip clubs, a “candy” store. This is the place Koetai probably hates the most in the city.

The Bars all carry a large variety of unique and exotic drinks from across the galaxy, drinks strong enough to knocks even Tyreen out. But the bars are just for drinking and conversations. It’s the clubs that they need supervision for.

The Backroom is the most popular of the strip clubs, plenty of exciting shows and even back room performances. Parties and even hands on activities, this place is the reason Troy and Tyreen need a “real” adult with them. Tyreen has crystalized more than a few orgies, and Troy as has woken up naked more times than he’d like to admit. Koetai has even found herself smashed between a few naked bodies, to her dismay and disgust.

These particular candy shops sell the best drugs, from pain numbing to ones that make you fly higher than Elpis. Here Troy and Tyreen go candy shopping to numb the feelings of self-loathing and depression. Koetai never buys her own, instead she settles for taking the twins supplements. Sometimes all three of them get high together and spend the whole day crying.

The Cathedral

The Cathedral is made of four floors, the spa on the first floor, the worker’s living quarters on the second floor, the saint’s and priest's room on the third floor, and the twin’s and Koetai’s room on the fourth.

The entire bottom floor is dedicated to the spa with an elevator leading to all the other floors, however each level an only be accessed by certain groups, the workers can go no higher than the worker’s quarters, the saints and priest can go no higher than they’re floor, only the twins and Koetai have access to the whole building. Each section of the spa is color coordinated. Massage rooms are green, the mud bath rooms are brown (fitting), steam bath rooms are purple. For security purposes the three highest individuals have their own special treatment rooms that come with everything the spa has to offer. Troy’s room is red, Tyreen’s is blue, and Koetai’s is orange.

The worker’s quarters are a bit compact and cramped, although the resting room is considered enormous, all the workers have to sleep in the same room in bed that are jampacked against each other with only one window. They only get five hours of sleep thirty minutes to get themselves together for the day. That means they must eat, shower, dress themselves, and do whatever else that needs to be done, in only thirty minutes. And there’s only forty or so showers with hundreds of workers.

The spa workers live in the spa in their own space so they’re always in tip top shape to massage and sere the higher ups.

The second floor is also very grimy and not well decorated or sanitized, not much thought went into the second floor because the twins don’t care about their “employees”, that get what they got and should be happy they even have a place to stay, be happy they’re even alive.

The third floor is more polished and better designed, mahogany wood floors and pearl white walls. Each saint and priest get their own room and bathroom, although they also have to share a kitchen, there are less of them and they get more time to themselves to prepare.  

There are two windows in each bedroom that allow them to see when the workers leave for their designated district. The saints are required to be their stations at least an hour after the workers are scheduled to leave. The priest must leave sooner to prepare the church for the offerings and prayers of the followers.

The fourth and final floor is home to the sirens, from the elevator is the large chill room known as The Lounge. On the left wall is a huge flat screen Tv built into the wall with games and a few gaming systems below it, on the right side is three big couches each positioned inward to face the Tv, and a big coffee table in the middle. Pass the Lounge is the kitchen with motion censored equipment. The twins buy so much high cooking utensils that the wide counter space really is necessary. They also have a big kitchen island for eating.

From the kitchen there are three hallways, each hall way leads to a different siren’s room with a bathroom connected.

Tyreen’s room is decorated with many shiny objects, her walls are covered in smoothed gem pieces, her carpet is made out of Bullymong fur, her bed is up against the corner opposite of her door and the corner across from her bed is her vanity. The down a few feet from where her bed is is the closet that opens with button switch on the wall, further down on the other side of the room is her painting area, there are four room length shelves holding her smaller paintings while the bigger ones sit on the floor.

Tyreen’s bathroom is filled with so many soaps and shampoos and bath salts. She likes smelling clean and fruity. Her tub is bigger than it needs to bed, Tyreen is the smallest of the three sirens but she has the second biggest tub on the top floor. And a jacuzzi, and a two-person shower.

Troy’s room the opposite of Tyreen’s, his room is brighter and full of rock like textures, his walls are made of asphalt, his ceiling is blood red, he has an in-floor pit bed, his fur carpet is made of something he’s never heard of before, but apparently he’s not allergic so that’s what really matters. On the left side of his room is his project station where he makes more little bots that Tyreen complains are too many of. The other side of his room is his workout spot, sometime he does his exercises in the lounge, but most of the time it’s in his own room. He has a closet that extends outwards so he doesn’t have to try and maneuver in a tight space.

His bathroom has a karaoke machine in it so he can lose track of time, his tub is big enough for him to submerge his whole body in. Lots of scrubs and essential oils to calm and relax himself. Sometimes Tyreen or Koetai has to check on him because he falls asleep in his tub.

Koetai’s room is decorated with a bunch of junk she grabs from every camp she helps raid, broken chest locks, guns and shields, even skulls of creatures she’s never seen. Her bed is in the middle of the back wall surrounded by handcrafted plushies that look like nightmares, but they make her more comfortable. Unlike Troy and Tyreen who have a theme with their rooms, Koetai does not, she likes plushies, broken items, orange and purple and blue and red and black. She likes trying to create things and whatever the twins like. She never really got a chance to develop her own personality.

Her closet is also an extending one like Troy’s, most of her clothes were designed by Tyreen, but sides her stuffed demons and bed, there isn’t much to Koetai’s room. (which will change over time)

Her bathroom on the other hand, is a quiet place for her to bath and think, or try to, her tub is really a three-person tub, but three people will never get in there at the same time. Her shower can fit plenty of people, but it will only ever be her in there. She has a three-person sink, but it’s just here in there. She doesn’t know which part of her living space makes her feel worse. 

I know everybody is calling their COV layout the City, but I didn’t know what else to call it. XD

[samsoleil]

9 and 10?

ask game

V I am sending the most fond vibes in your direction I hope they make it there okay!!

10. Your favourite season and why.

Honestly? Either S2 or S11.

Season 2: Sam has psychic powers and Dean is terrified that his brother might actually be bad, but is still ride or die for him. This is where we can see their relationship flourish without the search for John hanging over their heads. But y'know what does hang over their heads? John telling Dean he'll either have to save Sam or kill him, and Sam who is desperate to be saved and willing to be killed. And then!! when Sam dies!!! Dean saves him in the worst possible way!!!! Also, it's visually gorgeous. You've got the high contrast vibes from S1 but slightly less desaturated and you've still got the grainy film texture. An excellent time.

Season 11: Listen. I still think it should have been Chuck sending Sam visions. And I don't particularly care for the B plot. But Sam and Dean peak in this season for the first time since pre-s4 and it was amazing. It's the immediate aftermath of Sam literally unleashing  "a force on the world that could destroy it" to save Dean. Codependency at its peak. And in two mid-season episodes they absolutely nail the S2 energy. I mean, establishing beyond any doubt that Dean loves Sam? And then making him think Sam is dead in the very next episode? Where Sam is also the dictionary definition of BAMF? Not to mention, Sam is just. so understanding of Dean and his messy feelings about Amara. Love that for them.

9. What episodes best encapsulates the brother’s relationship? Does this change throughout the series? Doesn’t have to be the best episode btw.

To answer the second question, the brother’s relationship very obviously changes throughout the show. It’s obviously very codependent from the get go (especially from Sam’s perspective! Literally unendurable), and it varies in toxicity. Some seasons they are very soft! Some seasons I want to shout at Sam to run for the hills and never return. And then there are some episodes in seasons where their relationship is literally awful that are wonderfully tender (like 08x21 when Dean says “You gotta let me take care of you, man”). 

Imo, S1-3 are peak brothers. S4/5 are excellent to watch but not the most tender. S6 is on thin fucking ice. S7-10 are, generally speaking, when I would absolutely be willing to kill a man (Dean), but are still SO compelling because these crazy kids are devoted and have no moral boundaries when it comes to the other. S11 is a return to the good stuff! I haven’t seen the seasons after that but from what I have seen, Sam becomes a Dean apologist and Dean just gets worse. But they’re still codependent, so that’s fine. “You were gonna leave and you weren’t even going to tell me?” and “What about me? Would you trade me?” are baller lines. Sam is a grown man but he’s out here saving the world by being Dean’s baby brother. Iconic of them.

OKAY so. First question. I originally had several episodes per season but I have to limit it to 2, this is going to be too long otherwise. Also, as you well know, I've only watched up to 12x06, so I won't include S12 here. 

Episodes (and explanations) under the cut!

Obviously, both 01x01 Pilot and 15x20 Carry On. Literally the perfect bookends for this show. I don’t need to elaborate.

01x05 Bloody Mary - Has the moment where Dean actually has an emotional conversation with his brother, because he’s switched on to Sam’s emotional needs. He was willing to let Sam blame him for Jess’ death so that Sam didn’t blame himself! And near the end it has the iconic line "You're my brother and I'd die for you." Dean, right? No! It was Sam!! Anyone with any sort of reservations about whether Sam cared about Dean in early S1 can refer to this episode. It’s episode 5!! of the whole show!! and it has that line!!

01x11 Faith - Sam has absolutely no regrets about someone dying to save Dean's life. In retrospect, this episode says a lot about how much Sam loves Dean.

02x01 In My Time of Dying - Sam can sense that Dean is there, either through psychic powers or because they are soulmates. Both are good. Also, Dean is told that he may have to kill Sam, which influences their dynamic for the rest of the show <33

02x21 All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1 - Dean, on his knees in the mud, telling Sam's corpse that it'll be okay and screaming his name. That is all. Also, after thoroughly chewing out a victim earlier in the season for selling his soul to save a loved one, Dean sells his soul to save a loved one. 

03x08 A Very Supernatural Christmas - Sam decorated a Christmas tree with pine air fresheners to give Dean a Christmas. Obsessed.

03x11 Mystery Spot - Dean dies repeatedly, then dies for good for about 6 months, and Sam becomes a ruthless hunter in order to bring him back. Dean spends longer dead in this episode than he actually does at the end of S4.

04x14 Sex and Violence - Dean's siren is literally just a version of Sam that is devoted to Dean and would do anything he says. 

04x22 Lucifer Rising - Bobby coming for Dean's life. The VOICEMAIL!! Dean acting as though them being family is a cure-all and saying he'll beat Sam up, but also apologising. I'll take it. And then, of course, the voicemail Sam hears, which is more or less what Dean said in 04x04, and that being what tips him over the edge. The edge, of course, being killing Lilith to avenge Dean’s death, which has been his quest since the end of S3. Excellent.

05x16 Dark Side of the Moon - Ohoho. This episode. You know why this episode is here.

05x22 Swan Song - Same as the above! Dean who doesn't have a plan, just doesn't want his little brother to die alone. Sam, who fights off the devil himself and (essentially) kills himself to save his brother and the car they call their home. That memory sequence, for me, gave Sam the power not to save the world, but to save his brother. The world was just a bonus.

06x11 Appointment in Samara - "Dean doesn't care about me, he just cares about his little brother, Sammy, burning in hell. He'll kill me to get that other guy back." Dean's anger at himself for screwing up and forfeiting Sam's soul was. a lot. Also, Sam begging for his life and Dean just continuing anyway? Horrific. But very testament to their relationship at this point. Dean wants Sammy back and he WILL kill this other guy to do it.

06x22 The Man Who Knew Too Much - Sam being right about the consequences of having his soul put back in. And "You know me. You know why. I'm not leaving my brother alone out there."

07x03 The Girl Next Door - I was tossing up between this and 07x02 but. this has some flashbacks to past Sam!! Unfortunately, it also has Dean punching Sam for using the Impala, the car they both rely on to get around. And Dean murdering Sam's childhood friend for killing rapists. This isn’t an episode that makes you think “Awh, they’re codependent!”, it’s an episode that makes you send Sam vibes screaming at him to get out.

07x14 Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie - Ever think that maybe Sam fears clowns because he associates them with being abandoned? Also, nostalgia vs reality.

08x09 Citizen Fang - The voicemail from S4 is still hanging over our heads. Dean asking “Does that sound like the Benny we know?” and Sam replying “I don’t know Benny.” Dean keeping Benny away from Sam because Sam is apparently the one who will kill monsters with no nuance or remorse. But this episode is on the list specifically because of how pivotal the line "Yes, I do – too well. In fact, every relationship I have ever had has gone to crap at some point. But the one thing I can say about Benny – he has never let me down." is in absolutely wrecking Sam's mental health down the road!

08x23 Sacrifice - For obvious reasons! “You know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down!” and then Dean’s speech of blatant lies. It sounded good, though. Dean really is that devoted, but unfortunately he has amnesia.

09x01 I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here - Autonomy violation. This is what advanced care directives are for. Dean being so dependent on Sam that he would violate his autonomy and trick him into consenting to possession. Dean will do anything to keep Sam alive, including destroy Sam.

09x16 Blade Runners - The parallels between Colette and Sam are unbearable. “Drop the blade.” Also, Dean becomes SO feral when Sam’s cheek gets cut.

10x19 Book of the Damned - Sam’s speech! “But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother. And if he’s gone, then I don’t….”

10x24 Brother's Keeper - Ahahahahaaa. Sam kneeling down in front of Dean and letting him kill him, if he wants. Dean not doing so. Please do not emulate this relationship in your real human lives.

11x04 Baby - Obvious reasons. Also, the perfect example of how these two communicate. Dean clearly states his opinion so that Sam has something to base his arguments around, and then Sam provides his perspective. That meta about how Dean and Sam communicate and how Sam is the major decision maker opened my eyes. Impeccable takes.

11x16 Safe House - The thing Dean loves being Sam (and Sam being genuinely relieved that it was!!). Sam propping Dean’s sleeping body against the fridge while saying “I got you! Stay with me.” Him cradling Dean in his arms and patting his head and Dean being SO confused but not fighting it.

11x17 Red Meat - Okay, I lied about the 2 per season thing, I just needed all three of these episodes. They are too good to not include. Dean joking to hide how scared he is for Sam? Being willing to let all three of them die just because he thinks Sam is dead? Attempting/committing suicide to try to bring him back? Sam fighting through immense pain to get back to his brother? This episode is so good. They are absolute lunatics (affectionate).

[modernagesomniari]

Fic ‘I am Changed’

Part of the Mala Suledin Nadas Series (Eli Lavellan).  You can read it on AO3 here.

The parallels between In Hushed Whispers and Solas' situation have always made me unneasy (which shows good writing tbh) but I wanted to explore how different Eli and Solas' attitudes are towards this sort of thing, how it's a natural part of who they are, which is why they'll oppose each other eventually.

PG-13, ~1750 words

I Am Changed

It was the new sparkly kid who told them what had happened, not their Eli.  This was the first thing that set off the warning bells in Varric’s head.  The second thing was that, within minutes of Dorian starting the story, she’d quietly warned him off exaggeration.  The third thing was that he then did what she asked.  In Varric’s opinion, men like this one didn’t tone down their exaggerations for anything.  He should know.

Not that wasn’t like Eli to be quiet - she’d spent a good deal of the first week or so barely saying a word unless you spoke to her first, but Varric could understand that.  She’d just been thrown into a situation so far from anything she’d experienced, anyone with any brains at all would take a few days to take the lay of the land before they started throwing their weight around.  She’d picked up about day eight, starting to initiate conversation and get to know her new surroundings.  Cheered right up, if he was honest, he couldn’t fault her strength.

This was different.  She was sat in the circle they’d made around the camp fire down the King’s Road from Redcliffe.  None of them had particularly wanted to stay in the town, so they’d kept walking and camped halfway between the town and the camp.  Once the sun had set and they’d eaten, inevitably they’d asked what had happened.  She was playing with a piece of leather in her hands, twisting it and tangling it only to thread her tiny fingers through it and smooth it out before starting all over again.  She watched the fire, something violent in the way it reflected in her huge green eyes, but there was nothing on her face.  This had moved her, deeply.

He kept his eyes on her as he listened, mostly horror struck, at what Dorian was telling them.  The red lyrium clenched his gut, but the new kid’s description of who they found and how was worse, far worse.  Poor Leliana.  It was a sobering thought, the idea that a world where he himself was dead had existed.  Not for long it seemed (only it had also lasted a year?  Only it hadn’t?  There was no way he was going to be able to put this into any book, was there?), but still the reality of it was a cold slap in the face.  No one liked imagining a world where they were dead.  Eli, apparently, had seen and experienced it.  Watched some of them die.

It was only when Dorian was finishing the story, trying to tell them that it was all ok, that they’d found the amulet, sent themselves back, none of it ever happened, it was all a bad dream etc etc that Eli looked up, something wrong and fierce in her eyes now.

“It wasn’t just a bad dream, Dorian.”

Her voice was low, but something about it quietened the whole damn camp.

“Well it might as well be.  Otherwise I’d have to live with the reality the whole rest of my life and nightmares do play havoc with age lines…”

“We can’t just pretend it all didn’t happen because it’s easier.”

Now her voice was raised and she’d sat up, leather clenched tightly in her fist.  “Dorian.  It happened.”

“Technically, no it…”

“Yes.  It did.  To us.  If it hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t be here.  Alexius still sent us forward and then we came back, so if it hadn’t happened, we’d still be gone.  And then it would have happened.”

Varric considered himself a clever sort of bastard, but he was having trouble keeping up.  There was something frustrated but pained in Sparkler’s face.

“I see your point.  But that doesn’t change the fact that they don’t fit into this world any more.  For us to be here now means they never have to exist.”

“That doesn’t mean they didn’t exist.  Just because they don’t fit anymore doesn’t mean they didn’t exist when we were there.”

Andraste’s ass but there were tears in her eyes now, not falling but glinting just enough in the firelight he knew they were there.  He could never stand it when people cried, damn it.

“Then where are they?  I know you think I’m being cowardly about this, but what do you want me to do?  Cassandra is sitting right here.  Solas has as impeccable a skin routine as when I first met him, not a red vein to be seen.”

“So they didn’t die?  Is that what you’re saying to me?”

Varric definitely preferred it when she’d raised her voice to this quiet fury she’d switched to now.

“I didn’t say…”

“But that’s what you want to believe.  What’s easier to believe.  They died, Dorian.  They died so that we could come back.  And they were real.”

She shook her head, her face crumpling slightly as she couldn’t keep the tears in anymore.  The brokenness of her voice did nothing to the ferocity in her eyes as she stood across the fire from Dorian, not flinching even as the tears ran down her face.  “I am changed, Dorian.  Their fight, their death, their sacrifice.  They have changed me.  And I am real.  So they are, too.  Think me foolish for mourning them if you must, but I will.  And I will not forget.”

She turned, refusing to wipe her eyes but clearly not wanting them to see any more.  They let her go.  Silence fell over the fire as they all watched her take herself to sit on a rock at the edge of camp, looking down the ravine at the hinterlands below.  No one said anything.  It made Varric respect the new Tevinter mage slightly, that he just nodded solemnly and poured himself another drink rather than try and continue to fight his corner now he had no opposition.  As for Varric, he took a sip of his own drink before casting a quick look around the fire.  Most people were staring into their cups, uncomfortable and pensive.  One of the few who wasn’t was Solas, who was looking after where Eli had gone like he couldn’t look away, something unreadable but deeply uneasy in the expression on his face.  Varric’s inner alarm bells started going off again.  This didn’t bode well.

“Was it so bad?” The Seeker asked after a while.  Clearly tired, Sparkler just shrugged and nodded.

“I know what you look like after being speared by a Terror demon, if that paints a picture.  And I’ve seen the difference between human and elven eyes when exposed to truly horrific amounts of red lyrium, which tops it all off nicely.”

“There’s a difference?” Varric asked, immediately wondering why he always asked questions he didn’t want the answer to.  Dorian’s gaze was slightly haunted to match his hollow laugh.

“Elves are apparently more susceptible, or perhaps it’s just the same thing that makes their eyes glow at night.  I don’t know.”

He took another swig of his hip flask before gesturing over to Solas.  “You were a bloody breath of fresh air.  Barely had to explain anything - caught on quick as a whip.  Have you known her long?”

Solas looked as confused by the last question as Varric felt, eyebrows drawn together as he shook his head.  “No.  Didn’t think so.  You get on though, don’t you?”

“If you are suggesting some sort of elf connection…”

“No.  No I’m not.  It’s just…”

Dorian paused, flicking his gaze over to the silhouette that was Eli, back at Solas and then back at the fire.  Finally he just shrugged.  “Oh, she’ll tell you if she wants to.  If I were either of you, though, I’d find a few moments on the journey back to Haven to remind her you are both, in fact, still alive.  She took your deaths pretty hard.”

No one said anything after that.  No one really moved either.  Varric wondered what it was - the horror, the reality of this Elder One, or just the realisation that their Herald wasn’t strong because she was all-powerful, but because she didn’t let her fragility shatter her.  She would mourn, she would let her heart break for this world that should never have been and then she would allow it to make her stronger.  Varric had seen it before, watched a person take more pain than he thought possible and turn it right back into fierce determination and unshakeable loyalty.  Maker’s balls, but he was going to get in way over his head again, wasn’t he?

Solas got up first, quiet and graceful, stepping around them all as he angled towards the tents.  Varric watched him go, wondering at what Dorian had said and hoping that what he suspected was going to happen wasn’t going to.  Because he’d been there before, too, and there was nothing there but hurt, he knew it.  So some part of him started silently willing Solas to keep heading towards the tents, even as he watched him slow down.  Knew that there was a suspicious squint to his eyes as he watched Solas draw to a halt, looking over at where Eli was sat at the other side of camp.  Felt something release as he turned away, back to the tents and clench right up again when he hesitated.  If a low ‘Don’t you dare, Chuckles’ left his mouth under his breath, he couldn’t be blamed.

His heart sank as Solas changed his mind again, something reluctant in his gait even as he turned once more towards Eli and started walking towards her like it was despite himself.  Honestly, Varric would almost say that the man was even more irritated at himself than Varric was for not being able to leave her.  He watched him hesitate one more time, just behind her, before he took one more step forward and sat close beside her.

Varric couldn’t hear what they were saying.  Knew damn well that he wouldn’t be wanted there even if he could.  He watched her body sway slightly before she let it lean gently against Solas’ arm and his heart was heavy enough he actually sighed into his ale as he watched that arm come up around her shoulders, pulling her in.  Damn that man for being an idiot, damn Eli for being, well, Eli and damn himself for seeing so much and caring even more.  He’d seen this play out in Kirkwall, seen it a thousand times in every tale of every hero in Thedas.

There was no way this was going to end well.

[qhostqizmo]

I will, I will, follow you into the storm

when you ‘round the bend // close your eyes and count to ten i’ll walk through hell and back again // anywhere you go

Blood dripped from Essätha’s nostril to pool on her upper lip, leaving it to slowly trickle down her chin. She grimaced, her head woozy and legs staggering as she tried to regain her composure. People weren’t supposed to feel their brain pounding against their skull, last she’d checked. In fact, the sorceress felt like she’d gotten hit by an ox and flung around a barbed fence for the past few minutes, which was definitely not a ‘normal’ bodily feeling.

Garbling out a string of curse words behind her tongue; now coated with a metallic flavor, Essie spat on the ground and turned frantically. Her entire body lurched in agony. She hissed, trying to make out shapes and figures through her dizziness.

“Amon?”

Terror lit up her voice. A pale gray Drow woman had her fingers wrapped around the nobleman’s throat. He was rigid; eyes wide as fingernails caressed his esophagus. The woman leaned in close as though to whisper something to him, her other arm raising to lift the shadow blade from her right hand.

The weapon never made its blow. As she’d moved to strike, a surge of dark magic spear-like bolts pummeled into her back. The woman shrieked, her gaze snapping towards Penimra’s snarky upturned beak. She grimaced at the high-elf, and instead vanished in a flood of dark mist and glowing eyes, to reappear close to the teleportation circle in the room.

“She’s going to escape!” Rava cried out, wiping at her sweaty brow.

“They’re cowards,” Face sneered in agreement, his crossbow bolt narrowly missing a human also fleeing for circle.

Wincing in pain, Essie looked between Amon and the enemy accomplices running for their assured get away. She’d never make it to the circle in time, and her magic was drained of anything of effective offense. On heavy legs, she rushed towards his side instead. Some things were simply more important than winning the fight.

With a roar, Sulhadur let out an inferno of blazing fire towards the closest cult members to him. One fell, screeching and smelling of burned flesh and hair, dead within seconds. The other two; barely clutching to life, also bolted for the circle. Clipping past Adela, the pink Tiefling pulled free a dagger on her hip to bury into one’s throat. They toppled over, gasping through a bloody windpipe, and fell dead.

The final remaining members finally seemed to scramble into the ring. As the recited spell to activate the teleportation circle began to fill the air, Essie grabbed Amon by the shoulders. He jerked into awareness, a sense of confusion still evident in his dark eyes.

“M’lord?” She grasped for his face, her fingers caressing his cheeks.

He gasped, clutching at his throat.

“What-?”

“Are you alright?”

“I don’t know my head feels… foggy…”

Lifting his head, Essie followed his regard to squint at the flash of light igniting from the circle. With a crackle of energy, suddenly the few hostile enemies were nowhere to be seen.

Silence followed. Penimra’s voice was the first to break it, stating everyone’s sentiment in a single word: “Shit.”

As the others began to bandage themselves and roll over the bodies searching for any valuables, Essätha returned her gaze back on Amon. He stared, dumbfounded, where the teleportation circle was.

“How do you feel?” Essie pressed, her fingertips grazing affectionately over his sideburns.

“I…” Distracted, the nobleman looked around the room. He finally settled back to looking in her eyes, a small but tired smile appearing on his feastures. “I feel… fine, Essie. Considering.”

“Are you sure? Pri’cha should probably have a look at you. Pri-”

“Yes, niss Essätha?” A tiny voice chirped from a few feet away.

“I’m fine Essie,” Amon strained, “really.”

Unconvinced, she stared back into his gaze. He appeared a little shaken; his expression still puzzled, but he was not nearly as bloodied nor frazzled looking as the rest of him. Yet that interaction had been so strange.

“What had she said to you?”

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t know,” he ushered vaguely. “Must have been some sort of threat. I was a bit preoccupied by the hand on my neck. I’m sorry.”

How very odd. Her mouth squiggled with indecision, but she felt pressuring him on it further wouldn’t help matters. If he claimed not to remember or been paying attention to the Drow’s words, then there was no helping the case. No one else had been close enough at the time to probably overhear, if they’d have had half the mind to be paying attention.

She let go of his face. The nobleman reached up, idly rubbing his cheek where her fingers had just been. Something in his far-off stare still seemed unsettling, but the sorceress couldn’t name why.

“Lets see if there’s anything useful on them before we check the rest of the building,” Amon proclaimed, offering her a gentle smile. He hesitated for a second as he looked at her, his pupils wide. He reached to his side, pawing at a pocket, before he pulled forth a handkerchief. Essätha remained patient and still as he attended to dabbing at her bloody nose, her eyes turning to half-slits. She’d forgotten to worry when he touched her so carefully. Back to being more like himself; chivalrous and kind.

“Sorry,” he muttered a bit shyly, folding over the cloth to daub at the red smear on her lips and chin.

“You’re doing fine,” she sighed despite herself. “Thank you.”

He smiled back at her, and her heart melted in her chest.

Awkwardly clearing his throat, he stuffed the dirty cloth back into his pocket. “You’re welcome.”

Feeling his shoulder lightly tap hers as he skirted around her, Essätha felt the returning wave of puzzlement. She gazed over to the back of Amon’s head, a perplexed frown on her face.

Must not be important.

Shrugging it off, she proceeded to follow him towards the nearest corpse. There was still work to be done.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“This room’s only a little spooky,” the young elf-child announced with only a little too much cheer considering the entire décor was set up on ritualistic sacrifices.

Uneasy, Essie looked around. There were body parts and stains of blood all over the place. A lingering odor of rotting flesh lay beneath a haze of something smoky; like herbs had been burned recently. She snuffled in disgust, trying not to curl her lip towards the bones scattered in the corners of the room like useless artifacts swept aside.

A few tables, almost randomly placed in the room, had items upon them. Trinkets and tools; some obvious in their use, still coated bodily fluids. Dried skin; of what creature she could not be sure, was curing and pulled tight in racks. A shimmering black curtain lay on the opposite side of the room, concealing more.

More she did not want to see, she reasoned.

“Their interior designing wouldn’t be so bad if kept it maintained,” Face defended, nudging aside a deceased rat that had possibly gotten in to one of the opened containers of poison.

Adela visibly shuddered at the commentary. Essätha felt much the same.

She watched, her stomach rolling as Sulhadur made his way over to one of the writing desks. The Dragonborn turned over some of the documents, a curl of smoke blooming from his jaws. She bothered to move closer, joining him in peering over the paper. It was more of what she’d expect from everything else these losers used; more Abyssal text written in some strange code she couldn’t make out.

“Any idea what it says?”

She shook her head helplessly, glancing over towards the cleric. They held up a tome they’d found on another desk. Though she couldn’t make out what it may say at this distance if it were even written in Common, she could see some of the images on it. Horrific sketches; disemboweled corpses with memos of some sort.

“Be careful what you touch in here,” Adela advised, clutching on to the necklace hanging around her neck. “I don’t like the feel of this place.”

“Because we could all use more curses,” Penimra sarcastically grumbled, picking up a scepter lying against a wall. He eyed it for a while before curtly deciding to use the golden staff like a walking stick.

Wearing a scowl of disgust; this entire room looked like a horror freak show’s circus, Essie gazed back in the direction of the curtain.

It fell aside, and she caught a glimpse of Amon’s cloak as it shifted.

Her heartbeat jumped into her throat.

“M’lord?” she called out, dropping the catalogs back on the desk. He was usually not the reckless one of the party to simply run ahead. That seemed more like the work of one of the other lads; or of Rava when the spunky trickster elf decided to sneak around.

The footsteps of some of the others moved to follow her as she pushed aside the curtain.

Holding a key she hadn’t seen with him before, her nobleman looked poised to stick it into the keyhole of some random door.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Essie ran over to grab his arm hastily.

“M’lord Amon, what are you-”

Her gaze snapped up to his.

His eyes were blank. Lifeless.

Working against her, he tried to push the key into the keyhole slot.

Spitting profanities, the sorceress grappled with his arm; shoving her hip into Amon’s and wrestling to stand in front of the doorway.

“Amon! Amon you beautiful idiot what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer her. It was like fighting a rock. His expression was void, and his only intention seemed to be on the door.

A solid, heavy thump echoed on the other side. Something groaned; snarled, viscous and low.

“Don’t you dare open that door,” she threatened, fumbling with his hand. She sprawled out before it, slapping at his hand with a flinch of her own.

“Amon? Essätha?” Sul’s voice echoed.

Something scratched on the other side of the door. Moaned. Thumped heavily against the wood.

From the floor, some of the skeletons began to twitch and write. They began to rise up, their bones clattering loudly. A horrifying pile of flesh began to twist and pulse as well, revealing that it had been stitched together into some sort of flesh golem.

Panicked and wide-eyed, Essie latched on to Amon. The corner of his lip pulled into a frown as he tried to insert the key once more.

“Snap out of it!” she cried out, shaking him. Her eyes rounded to see that a number of bodies had risen from the floor, their burning eyesockets trained on her friends. She inhaled loudly; her lungs feeling as shaky as her hands, and looked up into her nobleman’s vacant expression.

“Listen, I don’t know what that Drow told you to do, but you don’t have to do it,” she blubbered frantically. “We’re in danger, and I know you don’t want to put us in anymore danger. Right?” She shook him rougher. “Right?”

The key clicked into the keyhole. Essätha grasped at it, struggling to yank it out as he attempted to twist it.

Pri’cha was shouting something, and a wall of light lit up the room.

“Stop!” Essie begged. She let go of the key, flinging herself into Amon to push him back. He grunted, his brow knit.

“I need you here! With me. Please- I- I can’t lose you I love you-”

The door creaked behind them, arcane runes flaring to life along the edges of the door. The key shuddered in the keyhole.

Twisting her hands into the fabric and fur of his cloak, Essätha leaned in to plant a firm kiss to his lips. Amon remained cold and unyielding to her efforts at first; his body unforgiving and taut. Then, suddenly, he grunted, and his posture was rigid with shock as she held to him; her teeth grazing his lower lip and her tongue pressed to his lips.

She pulled away. He gaped at her, awed, and reached up to tentatively touch his bruised lip.

Appalled with herself, the sorceress slapped a hand over her own mouth.

The key rattled in the keyhole, turning a fraction.

Muttering something beneath his breath, Amon reached around her to grab at the key.

“Wait-!”

He yanked it out. She sagged against the doorframe with relief, sighing.

“You kissed me!” Amon declared, his voice ragged and throat moving as he swallowed thickly. He was leaning over her, nearly pining her back to the door as something howled furiously behind it.

“I- Sorry-?” she choked, glancing behind him to where the others were mutilating the reanimated dead.

The Briarton Protector groaned heavily, his face red with humiliation.

Essie tapped him on the shoulder, trying to point behind him. Apparently he did not get the message, his eyes moving down to stare at her hand and then back to her face as Sul physically smashed a skeleton to pieces just behind them with his shield.

“You were going to open a portal to who knew what- I couldn’t just- let you-”

“You… told me you loved me?”

“Well-” baffled that he’d even recall that so well, her cheeks grew pink. “Yeah. I mean- if you opened a gateway to Hell I’d still promise to follow you, there and back. That said: I’d rather you not open unknown thresholds into some sort of hell, especially not of your own choice.”

Jaw slack, Amon stared down at her. “I don’t think Hell could exist, so long as I’m with you.”

Her face taking on the molten-core heat of sun itself, Essie pushed her hands against her nobleman’s chest. “That’s really romantic and all-” she wheezed, “but perhaps you should look behind you at what the rest of our friends are dealing with-”

Something hit the door to her back heavily and she yelped, jumping directly into Amon’s arms.

Grunting, he held her to his chest as he swung around to see the remaining flesh golems and skeletons getting beaten back to dust and splattered smears of remains.

He let go of her to tear his sword free of its scabbard.

“You didn’t lead with this?” he inquired, raising his shield in front of her as he took a swipe at the nearest body.

“Was I supposed to?”

“Probably!”

“Would you two lovebirds quit squabblin’ and start smashin’!” Face cut in, hurling a fire bolt at one of the humanoid beings made of leathery skin.

“He means smashing skeletons, not each other!”

“Thanks for the advice, Penimra,” Essie growled with exasperation, curling her hand to summon the ghastly figure of her chill-touch hand to strangle one of the reanimated skeletons.

Groaning himself, Amon turned to press a kiss to her temple, catching the sorceress off guard.

“Talk later?” he muttered a bit out of breath, side-stepping around to defend her from the lumbering nude humanoid creation to slice and hack at it relentlessly.

She blinked a few times, staring at the ominous door with the scratching noises behind her, back to the boney figure before her as her own skeletal chill-touch gripped its face, and ebbed away more of its life-force.

“S-Sure,” she squeaked helplessly.

What was there to say? Hey, sorry I bit you when I kissed you, I just wanted to wake you up from the weird mind control hypnosis thing you were under? The fact she’d said I love you? How she told him she needed him? She was almost sweating bullets already! There was a lot of unboxing right there.

Her face felt warm, and almost dizzy recalling how he’d just leaned in to rest his lips against the side of her head.

Oh fuck she was so screwed.

[nelllraiser]

carry you home | jared & nell

TIMING: directly after the ritual at the lake. LOCATION: jared’s farm. PARTIES: @nelllraiser​ and @themidnightfarmer​.

“as strong as you are, tender you go, a song for your heart, but when it is quiet, i know what it means, and i'll carry you home”

Nell was spent. Her emotional and physical reservoirs were drained after what had happened at the lake as she arrived home to Jared’s farmhouse on her bike, dismounting it at the gate so as not to startle the biesy. She simply stood there for a long moment, hands on the seat of her motorbike as she tried to steady herself. The ritual had taken a lot of power, and though all the sacrifices that had been made were made for good...that didn’t always mean they were any easier to swallow. She hadn’t yet noticed Jared waiting for her there, taking her helmet off and shaking her ponytail loose in a disconnected motion, one that spoke of the tiredness she felt in her bones. All she wanted was to sleep. To fall into bed and let the world just melt away, and forget about everything that was waiting for her in these waking moments. The squid was gone, sure. But there was still the resurrection to deal with. How much longer would she be able to shoulder things like this without cracking under their weight?

It was like a never ending game, Nell never left him without letting him know what sort of things she was leaving to do, but the reasons seemed to never stop being things that instilled a little fear in his heart. Jared wasn’t one to control her, and as much as he wanted to keep her safe he knew she was far too strong willed to be kept captive, so he never tried. But still, he watched her not even notice him as she parked up her bike and his heart ached. He slid off the gate he’d been sitting on and his eyes gave her a once over, a little bruised, but not anything too visibly alarming. “Everything...finished with?” He asked carefully, trying not to startle her. Moving forward to take a gentle hold of her shoulders and duck his head with a weary smile. 

The little jump that came from Nell was purely instinctual as Jared came down from the fence despite his care in trying not to startle her. She hadn’t seen him there, and part of her was still in fight mode. The quick movement almost made her exhausted limbs tangle on themselves, tripping her for a moment, but she did her best to recover as quickly as she could. The little smile she gave him was partially reflexive at this point. After years of knowing him and treasuring their bond, it was impossible not to greet him with a smile. But part of it was also manufactured specifically for Jared, not wanting him to worry anymore than he already did. A smile meant she was okay, right? The small bit of blood crusted underneath her nose where she’d tried to wipe it away and missed was still unnoticed by her as she walked towards him, pausing and letting her shoulders relax as he took hold of them. “Everything’s finished. The bastard should be gone now. No eye sun for the kids, anymore.”

The smile did very little to ease his mind, she seemed sluggish and the little trail of blood from her nose drew his eyes quickly although he didn’t comment right away. “The kids will have eternal gratitude, they’ll be ecstatic.” Jared told her softly, wiggling her shoulders a little, in a sneaky way trying to watch for signs of pain. A maybe slightly cruel way to check for injury, but he was soft and he knew Nell far too well. She was too stubborn to admit she was compromised in some way, so better to check than do damage in silence. With no overly negative reaction he smiled back at her weakly. “You did a good job.” he commented before turning around and stooping over, arms behind his back. “Heroes get piggy backs to the house.” he told her with a slightly lilting tone, looking over his shoulder. “And you get to tell me how you got a bloody nose on the way.”

His little squeeze was enough to make the soreness of her muscles creak a little in protest, but Nell wasn’t going to let on when it came to that. Then he’d probably stop hugging her, and right now his hug was more than enough to melt away from the tiredness that had taken up residence in her soul, like a salve on a burn. “I did it only for them. Squidward could have brought his hellscape here and eaten the town whole if he hadn’t been ruining the kids’ lives,” she joked tiredly, though the comfort of Jared’s farm had certainly been a motivating factor, as well. “And now you don’t have to be trapped here all the time, too.” She scrunched her nose a little at the word hero, never having taken easily to that title. Nell wasn’t quite so sure that the things she did in order to achieve her goals were exactly...heroine material. Not when it meant ending lives and potentially scarring blissfully ignorant humans. “Hero might be a stretch but- I never say no to a piggyback ride, though.” She did her best to jump onto his back, a little more unsteady than usual, but clinging on nonetheless. “The bloody nose was just...exertion. Big spells and big costs and all that, you know? It was...a lot to harness all that energy and put it in the right place.” Right into the heart of the Dator Vitae. 

Jared let his smile grow a little. Maybe she was kidding but he’d always been a sucker for how much Nell appreciated his farm just as much as he did. His animals were his life, and she was always right behind him, complementing them and looking out for them. It was comforting to know the person he cherished the most had the same sort of outlook he did. Jared let her go, and then grasped onto her legs when she found herself settled onto his back. He unlatched the gate and went through before securing a heavy lock in place from the other side. And then he started the walk to the house. His pack of boondoggles were nearby, moving back towards their shelter but he didn’t waiver his path. He walked through the pack with authority and a few soft words. “Will there be any other after effects of being the witch in charge of your ritual?” As innocently as he phrased it, Jared was sure Nell could pick him apart in a second. He was worried, he’d always be worried. He had been relieved to see her but now he was thinking of the consequences. Maybe he’d keep her close...for observation reasons obviously. He rolled up the porch steps and just pushed on the door. He never locked the thing even if the girls tended to. But he was the last one out and he’d not bothered. He took a detour into the kitchen and slid Nell onto the countertop before turning around. “Blood off, scratches wiped, a snack and some sleep?”

Nell couldn’t see the smile growing on his lips, but if she had, she would have drudged up the energy from somewhere to return it, even though every inch of her body was screaming for sleep. When she was at the end of her rope, she’d still find the strength to give him a smile. She let herself relax as he gripped onto her, letting her eyes flutter close as her cheek pressed against his back. The rhythm of his walking and sounds of the farm were comforting, along with his warmth and the familiar smell of the shampoo she’d given him. Barely registering the question he asked, it took her a moment to answer it, her mind still scrambled. “Hmm? Oh- probably not.” If she’d been more aware, Nell would have remembered to censor her uncertainty, knowing just how much Jared was prone to worry. But she thought of it too late, and could only hope he wouldn't latch onto it. Still...it was nice to have someone to come back to who knew exactly what she’d been out doing, never needing to keep secrets from Jared. Well- at least not these secrets, the ones that endangered her. Nell knew he’d never try and keep her from her choices, a trait that was invaluable to her. Once she was slid on the countertop, she went slack, her eyes closing again as they seemed to refuse to stay open. It was perhaps world record breaking how quickly she managed to doze off while he was turned away, and she didn’t even hear his question as he did whatever it was he’d moved to do. Next thing she knew, she was coming awake again to the sensation of falling, slipping off the counter and hitting the floor when she’d fallen asleep. “Fuck,” she cursed as she stayed there on the ground, the world swimming for a few, long moments. Maybe she’d overdone it more than she’d realized.

Her hopes were not granted, as soon as Jared heard the word ‘probably’ his plans to set her up in her room vanished from his mind. He was going to be keeping an eye on her for a while, if only until he was certain that she wasn’t showing any negative side effects. Jared hadn’t even made it to the sink to grab a few things from underneath it before he heard a pretty horrific thump. His head whipped around to see Nell on the floor and he swore as he abandoned his task to go and pick her up. He lifted her easily into his arms and looked for any bumps on her head. “Christ Nell really? You couldn’t say you were maybe going to pass out?” he berated her quietly. The nymph adjusted her in his arms and headed straight for his bedroom door. He pushed it open and moved to lay her down on the nearest side. Pulling back the blankets and settling her in. Pausing the next moment to actually run his hands over her head, checking for obvious damage, it was a miracle she’d missed clattering her head on the island counter. Finding nothing he smoothed her hair back into place and knelt down to pull her shoes off and tuck her into his blankets. “You’re always such a handful, always off doing something crazy you know that? I’ve got high blood pressure.” he jokes lamely, his fingers brushing gently over her a scrape on her cheek. “Do you feel faint? Sleepy faint or blurry faint?”

Nell knew better than to think that Jared would let it slide, and though she didn’t want him to worry, she wouldn’t help but feel...cared for when he did. And that was a feeling she rather adored. She squinted up at Jared as he checked over her, trying to make sense of his words. It took a moment longer than it generally would have, but finally she had an answer for him. “I didn’t know,” she pouted, drawing out the last syllable of the words in a bit of a whiny tone. She was rarely like this, reduced to it by sheer exhaustion. If it had been anyone else handling her in this situation, she would have been stubborn and horrified, hating to appear weak, or in need of help. But this was Jared, and the security he offered was able to break past her typically stubborn walls. “Usually it happens sooner if it’s gonna happen,” she continued on in that same tone, not entirely realizing she was incriminating herself once more for revealing that it wasn’t exactly unheard of for her to overexert herself. Her bottom lip jutted out at his words, her pout completed by the motion. “I’m sorry.” Then she groaned. “I wanna make a blood pressure joke, this isn’t fair.” Her mind still felt like it was swimming from her fall, unable to come up with something witty. “Mmmmm,” she hummed as she leaned towards Jared’s touch, her heart doing a funny little flip in her chest. “Sleepy, blurry- but that feels nice.”

He just simply wasn’t phased by the way she was acting, he just carried on on his way to lay her down without a second thought. Although if it had been in another situation he’d have teased her, or even laughed at the whinging, but as it stood then Jared couldn’t quite get past the lingering dread in his stomach knowing she’d dropped like a weight in seconds. “Sooner huh?” he repeats back to her, his face doing it’s best to stay impassive but not doing a very good job at the time. She certainly was incriminating herself and he’d be ready to ask her about it later. When she would hopefully tell him honestly and completely alert. “Can’t even make a blood pressure joke, what has the world come to?” he carries on the lighthearted conversation anyway, even if his tone of voice wasn’t quite right. “Sleepy blurry we can work with, you got no concussion right? I didn’t feel any bumps.” he asks her, giving her a few moments to collect her answer, running his thumb over her cheek some more gently. He wanted to see if he had anything for them, but that could wait. They weren’t deep enough to be a massive concern, they could deal with it later. “We’ll take a nap in a second, you should drink some water and have a snack before we tuck in for the night.” he tells her softly. Pulling away to stand up.

Nell nodded clumsily where she lay, happy to be nestled into Jared’s bed. She liked her own well enough, but in his she felt like she was surrounded by him, and his presence had always been a comforting one, setting her soul to rest in a way that still let her live free. “Yeah like- usually right after.” Maybe it was the energy she’d taken to ride home that had finally done her in, though. Something wasn’t sitting right with his face, the expression not exactly matching the lighter words he was trying to say, but she couldn’t exactly place it with the way her mind was still swimming. “I know,” she continued on, eyes already closing again as her words blurred together. “It’s very sad.” Even beyond being simply physically, and magically tired, her emotions had taken a strange spiral once the ritual had been completed. How much more could their town take before shattering, and people weren’t built for this kind of strain. But she’d help carry it, fixing as many things as she could because...what else was there that she could do? “Nooooo, I didn’t hit- oh wait- I did hit my head.” She’d been thinking of the ritual, not her fall from the counter. “It’s okay, it’s fine.” Her hand reflexively came up to cover his that he’d put on her cheek, as if he were a human security blanket. A barely distinguishable sound of disapproval fell from her as he pulled away, and she tried her best to keep her grip on his hand to pull him back before processing his words. “You better come back,” she demanded in that same, tired voice.

It was distressing to hear her say ‘usually’. He’d definitely be asking about this tomorrow when she woke up. But that could wait. It could all wait. She was exhausted and he didn’t want to get into anything unpleasant when she’d do so much good that day. Despite how much trouble she got into, Jared would always feel she was allowed some respite in the aftermath. Always. He saw her reluctance to let him go and managed a half smile. “I’ll be back in five minutes with some things. I promise.” He bound himself. He hated promises he hardly ever bound other people into them, but he had no trouble with something so trivial. He wanted to reassure her. And he would be back. Possibly faster than five minutes even he returned with a glass of water, a snackbar and a few bandaids. None of them big enough to cover her scratches, but he thought maybe they’d make her smile. Wrapping the last remaining fawn band-aid from the packet around her uninjured finger he kicked off his shoes. He didn’t even think about it as he slid into the bed beside her. It was such a normal action for them by this point that he didn’t need to think. He gently coaxed her into his arms and wrapped her up. She could sleep now. He’d be here when she woke up.

[adivinationwitch]

Okay, random rant alert:

I have issues with the message of films like Midsummer and The Ritual, despite the fact their aesthetics are beautiful. And what is my issue? That inevitably, they demonise pagan/pre-christian religions and paint them as the antagonists or something the audience is meant to be repulsed by. 

The idea that we sacrifice humans and wear human flesh masks and that our Gods are ‘worship or die���, that we do horrific, violent things and kill those who don’t fall in line, is not only ironically annoying since the worship-or-die mentality has only ever been uphold to a globally bloody level by Christianity, but these sorts of tales and vicious lies and rumours are what an entire world used, and continues to use in some parts, as an excuse to ‘legally’ and brutally torture and murder tens of thousands of women (with the true numbers expected to be in the millions since the Burning Times only records those who had an actual trial rather than mob murder).

These were women who were sometimes witches, pagans, some who were just midwives (as midwifery became especially demonised by the Christian church with claims that they were killing babies and giving them to Satan, which meant only a male physician was supposed to deliver in a Godly way), some were just women who happened to have land and money and independence, some were just women who happened to have managed to get old. These are not tales, these are not legends, it happened. There was brutal, horrific torture and murder which happened fucking legally due to the sorts of ideas being propagated in films like these. My issue isn’t that these films exist it’s the fact that they seem to be primarily the only films that portray the old religions and there’s always a violent, murderous light on them. 

It astounds me that in the 21st century, that these are still the portrayals that are most popular. 

It’s like the typical green-faced warty witch everyone sees at Halloween. When you see it, just remember that a wart on the face was never considered to be a witch’s mark. Because the Hunters thought that would be too obvious. No, witch’s marks were often found on genitalia. They would strip the woman naked, often rape her (sometimes gang rape her) then they would torture her in numerous ways, including turning her over and using a contraption to pull apart her buttocks so they could really examine every inch of her, and often ‘marks’ were found around the vaginal area. 

There was the case of one 66 year old woman in Germany (where the worst trials happened) who, using a contraption called the Spider, had her breasts RIPPED off, and one was shoved in her mouth, the other shoved in the mouth of one of her sons. She and the rest of her family were burned alive, while their youngest son was made to watch before he too was killed.

There is a witch hunter from France who tortured over 200 children (some as young as 2 years old) and was proud of it and lamented that burning a witch happened too quickly. 

 A freaking pope declared that all black cats were the devil in disguise and so people used to bag them up and burn them alive. Every last thing that happened, every atrocity was sanctioned by the fucking church.

There was a cunning man (his own self chosen title) who was killed in southern England in 1944 by a pitchfork through the throat that nearly decapitated him entirely, while a cross was carved into his chest. Despite taking 4000 witness statements, the police never found his murderer, his case is still unsolved today, because the villagers and the area felt he didn’t deserve justice. In the same village in the mid 1800s, the same thing happened to a woman, who was known to tell fortunes and sell witch remedies. She was found with a pitch fork through her throat and a cross carved into her chest. And witch hunts still actively go on in parts of the world today.

So with all that in mind, yeah, I, and others like me, do find issues with these sorts of films, especially when the industry is ruled by Abrahamic religions, just as the world is, that still portray those of other religions, beliefs and power, in the same vile light that allowed for the mass murder and torture of so many. 

I’m not saying don’t watch a film, I’m not saying don’t enjoy an old-school Halloween prop, what I’m saying is remember why it exists in the first place, where these ideas and images come from. Remember there is blood and death behind it, and the church’s hands, as always, are the bloodiest. 

[kryptsune]

Fellswap {FXS, CXP} (UPDATED: 4/1/2020)

🌼It is an interesting story with Fellswap because I had no ideas for it only for it to turn out into one of my favorites and most extensive. I added the divider because this one is seriously one of the craziest and most fleshed out AUs besides WTU of course. This one has a lot to it so feel free to ask any questions you may have! Enjoy! If you enjoy it spread it around so I can gauge the interest! 💙

Alternate “Nicknames” Info: 

Sans: Crimson- Also goes by The Crimson Lord or Bloody Lord. Crimson the harsh ruler of the lands of Tundra and known to be a loyal “dog” to the Queen. His eyes used to be an icy blue but now they are primarily red. If you manage to pull that old him out then his eyes may turn blue again. It astounds him when Frisk causes him to enter this state. A dog without a leash rather. He is frigid towards real affection/emotion unless he has the goal to manipulate you. The only exception would be that of his brother. His pride and ego are legendary and rarely ever takes no for an answer. He is nicknamed the bloody lord for a reason as he has a vampiric nature. His love of the finer things in life leaves him very possessive and greedy as well. His kingdom, being the closest to the Capital, is the most lavish. He is not easily amused, however, if you are able to amuse him he will most likely keep you alive until your amusement wears out. He is also the younger of the two brothers.

 Papyrus: Grimm- Crimson’s older brother though even with his stature most think the opposite. He could be classified as the wild one. His eyes are usually a golden/yellow color looking more like pupils then the typical skeleton blank sockets. When he is more in his feral mode those sockets will turn black with that blazing yellow pupil. His eyes in this state resemble that of a wolf. He will be more docile unless it comes to the hunt. That is really when he is in predator mode. Grimm is also incredibly needy and does not care about the state of his captees which he usually brings to his brother. He is submissive to Crimson but that does not mean he will tolerate being treated like a dog. He is still the older brother after all. He is a flirt just to get what he wants and he loves it when others fight back. Unlike his brother, Grimm could care less about all the finery all he cares about is the pleasure, fun, and thrill. Grimm is curious by nature so if you draw his attention you may survive long enough to get on his good side. He also has a well known sweet tooth though his brother tries to discourage him from the habit. The running joke is that he had to have his canine teeth replaced with gold because the sugar rotted the true teeth. That, of course, is nothing but a lie. 

Chara: Fuji- Fuji is the twin sister of Frisk and the two could not be further opposites. She is mild-mannered and easily spooked. Her kind heart is often betrayed but she continues to struggle onward despite that. Her physical appearance forces her to cover her left eye due to horrific damage. Under those ebony bangs, she has a scar that is the opposite of Grimms. It is one of the reasons she first draws his interest (that and chocolate). Grimm eventually calls her his Chara-mell apple which is a reference to her name as well as how sweet her personality is. Unlike her sister, Fuji is relatively weak which is why Grimm becomes her protector. She is his little dove.  

Frisk: Frisk is known as the “bad” girl type. She picks fights that she knows she can win and likes to get into trouble. She is rather brash but if she sees a fight she knows she cannot win then she will not take that on. The monsters are one such factor of this. She adores her siblings and will do anything to keep her safe even if that means self-sacrifice. She is sassy and overconfident which makes her a perfect match for Crimson. Eventually, he refers to her as his little huntress as she takes just as much joy harming humans as the monsters do. They hurt her sister and therefore they must pay with blood. Her standoffish attitude is also a huge bonus for Crimson as he gets to learn more about her and break down those walls. They both do that for each other. She enjoys Crimson’s darker side rather than his gentle side. Aside from that only she and his closest family ever see. 

Undyne: Undyne is the Royal scientist and resides in her lab in Windyspires. A place that revolves around aviation. Undyne has a fascination for any kind of flying machines and is more an engineer than a scientist. In order to keep up with the hunt and help her Lord, Alphys, she creates a series of drone-like devices that monitor the “air” of the entire Underworld. It also doubles as a camera for those monsters not participating but watching the hunt take place. She has a very steampunk vibe to her work and likes to wear a pair of aviator goggles at all times. Her favorite type of anime is mech like Gundam or Voltron. She will occasionally wear her lab coat but she prefers her more casual attire. Unlike the rest of the monsters, Undyne does not directly participate in the hunts but rather helps Alphys instead. She has sworn off genetic or soul experimentation but no one knows the true reason why.  

Alphys: The Lord of Windyspires Alphys is the ultimate warrior type. She will do anything to win a battle which includes a little extra help from her scientist (eventually Lady) Undyne. She is the centurion of the Guard and usually participates fully in the hunts. Her desire for revenge and victory is something that drives her forward and takes extra delight in adrenaline that comes with the hunts. Just like Crimson, she is a formidable foe and usually brags that she will one day rule his kingdom which means their egos butt heads frequently. Alphys loves the spectacle even crafting an arena on the border of Magmire and Windy spires dedicated to combat. The weak cannot be a part of the Guard. She much prefers hand to hand combat and will rarely resort to any type of projectile attacks. She was the youngest sibling of 5 brothers and beat up frequently by her brothers which only made her stronger. She vowed never to be weak again though that mindset has made her into the bully she so sought justice for earlier in life. She likes to binge anime with Undyne when it is all Shonen. {probably a masochist… definitely a sadist}

Muffet: Muffet works side by side with her husband and Lord Grillby. Their kingdom is that of Magmire. They are known for their industrial prowess creating weapons and armor for the elite of the Underworld. She takes great pride in her side job which happens to be the only confectionary in the entire kingdom making hard candies and gummies. She is known to indulge in Grimm's sweet tooth habit as well. She appears kind on the outside but she is truly manipulative especially to those that are unfortunate enough to be caught in her web. Her original concept was that of Hansel and Gretel with her being the “witch”. She dresses in bright inviting colors which is a huge contrast to the rest of the monsters. Muffet also has the ability to spin sugar into horrifying amalgamations when she harvests the souls of captured humans. Human/ monster no more these creatures will do as she commands even sometimes devouring their targets. Just add a pinch of monster dust, a little bit of candy, and some soul.   

Grillby: Grillby is the Lord of Magmire. Unlike most of the Lords in his position, he does not sit on his throne but rather helps and works with his wife in the confectionary. He finds it relaxing though he does still have to attend to. Grillby is more laid back than most almost the opposite of someone who is sugar high. He is calm and collected which makes him a suitable warrior though he has placed those days behind him. His hobby is to work on new blacksmithing techniques even if his kingdom claims that is below him. His throne room is covered in metal work such as blades and armor only adding to the stigma of the industrial kingdom. He is not one for killing as he feels that there is no honor in such an act. He will send his captees back to the Capital or to whoever is willing to pay. He does not agree with his wife's tactics however he knows that he can not change that mindset and doesn’t press for it.   

Toriel: Known as the Ice Queen possibly due to her frozen kingdom or her attitude toward any and all life. Unlike the original UT Toriel, The ice Queen no longer can use fire magic as her soul has frozen over. She has ice abilities and magic in its place. There are rumors that she can cause one's heart and soul to become numb just being in her presence. She is what one would consider a despot as she does not care for much. Her grief causes her to lash out at others and is called by the lesser monsters, the Mad Queen. She is unaware that her son is still living and refuses to speak to her husband. Even the mention of his name can send her into a spiral of rage.  

Asgore: The former King of the Underworld Asgore was banished to The Ruins after Toriel’s maddened rage. He is kind and gentle though he knows his own limits. He is not a pushover. His time in the Ruins has shown him how insane his wife has become and with the help of his son they take care of the humans fortunate enough to make it to them. He does his best but even he has moments that force is required as much as he hates the violence. He is still a king through and through ruling over his own “kingdom” as the caretaker.  

Asriel:  The former Prince of the Underworld and son of Asgore and Toriel. Asriel was presumed dead but survived only to escape to The Ruins. His father comes upon him later and they work to help the humans that have been forced to suffer under the tyranny of the Queen. Asriel is mild-mannered and very polite. Even without his station he still acts like a kind Prince. He will stand up for what is right regardless of his own possible sacrifice. When he meets Fuji he sees a lot of himself and he takes on the big brother role for her. In conclusion (Precious Goat boy). 

Main Plot Synop: 

The Surface: 

The surface has been overrun by corrupt leaders. It is very much the concept of big brother. They are a council that presides over the affairs of the world. If you are seen as a threat you will be immediately thrown into “prison” without a trial. They hold occasional public trials in the guise of being fair. Just as WTU claims, the very concept of magic is a threat to them so those that have it are quickly disposed of but leaders don’t always do the dirty work themselves. No. In fact, they use another source by means of execution…the monsters. 

More accurately it is very similar to the idea of throwing your enemies into a kind of gladiatorial arena. It is not technically considered an execution if circumstances lead to death. The humans are not stupid they know what is going on. Some believe in rebellion against the state and some wonder if the monsters could fix their corrupt world. Either way, the corruption continues and they are not above tossing innocents into “the pit” if it suits their agenda. 

“The Pit” (aka the Underworld/Underground):

The underworld is broken up into different factions by location. The only location without a faction or any type of ruler is The Ruins, because of its size and its isolation this is where humans try to reach for some form of Salvation. Asgore, the caretaker, has made it into an encampment for those that have fallen (the innocent ones). It is almost like a refugee camp. Unfortunately very few make it to Asgore’s safe haven. He does his best. Poor goat dad. He is not like canon Toriel however as he will use violence if necessary as he knows that humans are simply using them as tools to get rid of who they deem criminal. There are signs of old campfires, broken tents, and habitation. Before The Ruins is, of course, the main factions. “Snowdin” is the beginning and Crimson is one of the most powerful in the Underworld. 

LOCATION SWAPS {INFO in order}: 

New Home= The Capital

Snowdin= Magmire 

Waterfall= Windyspires 

Hotland= Tundra 

The Underworld is backward to its original layout. The humans end up trapped in The Capital instead and they have to make their way to The Ruins to escape. So it would go like this: The Capital -> Tundra ->Windyspires ->Magmire. The closer the faction to the capital the higher the rank in other words because both Grimm and Crimson live in Tundra. Crim is the lord making him one of the most notorious. He is known for being a loyal “dog” to his queen. Whether that be out of loyalty or self-preservation is unclear. 

Each faction has a lord or lady that rules over it. The ones loyal to Toriel’s (As a side note she is known as the ice queen) regime and their supposed way of life. This also means the closest ones receive the most benefits. Tundra is the one with the most prestige and of course other monsters are trying to strip that title from its current holder, The Crimson Lord. Due to Crimson’s loyalty, he is almost exempt from any wrongdoing in the Queens’ eyes which means he can do pretty much anything he wants. Which is dangerous and I will explain why in a bit.

I have a faction ruler list sitting here so I am going to add that to this as well. They are as follows, of course, this does not account for potential power struggles during the story: 

The Capital -> QUEEN: Toriel Dreemurr

Tundra -> Lord: Crimson 

Lady: N/A

Windyspires -> Lord? (I mean she wouldn’t want to be called a lady SHE IS TOO TOUGH FOR THAT!): Alphys 

Lady: Undyne

Magmire->Lord: Grillby

Lady: Muffet

“It’s Hunt or be Hunted”: 

The motto of this verse. After so many centuries of humans being disposed of by monsters, they become aggressive. In addition, the anger toward all of humanity begins to fuel violence in the monsters. The hunts deter monster on monster violence. It also adds fuel to Queen Toriel’s fire that one of the humans that fell down the first time killed her son. This, of course, is a lie as Asriel seeks refuge with his father in The Ruins. He helps as much as he can watch his mother lose her mind from afar. It saddens him but he refuses to be a part of this new world order. That is when they realized that humans weren’t just falling into the Underworld. They were throwing the worst of the worst. Their undesirables, criminals, and anyone that dare went against their own agenda. 

At first, they just captured them and held them in the Capitals network of catacombs but then some began to escape causing damage across their “New Home”. Toriel wouldn’t allow it. A proposal turns it into a game of cat and mouse. The humans are detained and released and then the monsters hunt them down. It used to be about protection but now it’s become a sick twisted death game. The forests of Tundra are littered with traps and deadly pitfalls along with the rest of the locations. 

A Human's Fate:

Not all the humans that are being thrown into the pit are criminals. The monsters of higher rank occasionally take humans they deem worthy to be servants or slaves. It depends on the monster or the rank but at least those humans are still alive. The hunt is an unspoken death sentence. One monster, in particular, seems to have an interest in bending humans to his will and that is Crimson. The conditions vary widely as some treat their humans well and others poorly. Crimson is known to go through humans quickly due to his bloodthirsty nature. It’s not a common occurrence. In fact, the Queen frowns in distaste over the very notion. The only ones that are spared of any of these fates are the children. Toriel is even more disgusted by humans sentencing their young to die. She takes care of the children that have fallen. In total, she has taken care of 5 children in total. 

The Brothers Grimm:

Grimm is the wilder of the two brothers and is very much a predator type. His name is derived from the mythos of the Grimm or Black dog. I wanted to keep that dark omen symbology in both his name and design. He slinks around in the shadows so that the black dog aspect is not far off. He also loves watching from trees.  He enjoys the catching and hunting aspect of his job and even plays around with his “toys” when he finds them. He will specifically call anyone “chew toy” in a mocking kind of way. That does not mean though that he will not spare you if he catches you. He is naturally curious by things. He also has a little skele tail too. Unlike his brother, Grimm doesn’t really have an ego he just finds his job fun. He is like a giant untamed wolf. Grimm has a love of sweets as well. 

He admires his brother but he is not bound to his brother. In other words, this is not a master, dog dynamic. He is, however, the more accepting of the two. If he is asked to do something he doesn’t approve of then he most likely won’t. Also just because he has the whole puppy thing going on doesn’t mean he isn’t smart and cunning. Again he likes to play around with those he finds sometimes not even dragging them back to his brother for a while. If you are a threat he will kill you but if you’re not you can probably get on his good side. If he thinks you are cute he will probably flirt with you too. He is not beyond that. He plays the part of the dog quite well.

Crimson is more sophisticated. He doesn’t go out on “hunts” himself often as he has a faction to rule over but those brought to him will see first hand that he is an insufferable flirt. He is prideful, egotistical, and commanding. He also has a bad habit of keeping mementos from those he deems worthy (what those are… you don’t want to know). He is stern with his brother and seems very outwardly cold to most unless he is playing up his charm. He is not someone you want to make angry as Toriel considers him to also be the Bloody Lord. His weapon of choice is a scythe. His drinks of choice are red wine and champagne specifically the pink kind. Crimson’s incisor teeth also have that vampire point to them. They are longer than the rest of them. There is far more to Crimson than just a ruthless skeleton lord.

The Ultimate Unlikely Hunters: 

This backstory will involve Grimm and Crimson’s unusual infliction and conditions. They were both experiments under Gasters research team in the beginning. Having been weak monsters as children unable to gain any LV they had to think of a way to survive. They did not seem to possess the ability to wield magic. Tired, injured, and without hope, Papyrus carried his baby brother all the way to Windyspires banging weakly on the metal plated doors. The Royal scientist at the time, Dr. W.D. Gaster, took the boys in. Unlike Darrius FS Gaster cares about the two brothers. He gives them a choice if they want to become stronger as their souls are not capable of it on their own. Grimm takes the offer hoping it will save his baby brother offering to be the first test subject. 

At the time Unyne was nothing but a teenage prodigy lab tech watching the events of soul manipulation take place. At first, the process works. Pap is able to conjure new bone-like attacks with magic and all seems to be well. The results cause Gaster to start the experiment on Sans next. By this time complications have already begun to show signs. Pap seems to be more short-tempered and aggressive even with little things. His mood swings cause him to lock himself up being monitored day by day. 

Sans has never seen his gentle brother this aggressive before forcing himself to look away as they have to strap him down for a follow-up experiment. He tries to help his brother the best he can and takes on the older brother role due to Pap’s inability to think clearly. Even he is starting to change. The longer this situation continues the more Sans becomes numb to the feeling. That is until one day Pap’s condition takes a turn for the worse causing him to lash out, bones shifting and elongating. He drops to the ground in agony transforming into a skeletal beast like wolf tearing the entire lab apart. 

Sans, on the other hand, continues to take care of his brother but he too is feeling some strange side effects to the soul manipulation. It turns out that each monster’s ancestry buried deep within their soul draws upon a primal power. Not all monsters were about love and compassion in the beginning. Bringing this primal trait to the surface causes adverse physical and biological changes within the two. Sans is more gradual as he starts to be in immense pain. His soul struggles to keep itself together but even he snaps lunging at a lab tech. He zeros in on their soul pulling it from their chest and sinking his teeth into it, draining it of its life force. The pain is suddenly gone. He realizes that he needs souls essence and power to keep that hunger/thirst at bay. It gives him extraordinary abilities. He remembers a long time ago reading about a monster that humans had such a fear of, the vampire. 

As he comes into power he realizes that humans concentrated soul traits are even better than monster souls. The blood has a high concentration of soul essence which sustains humans as well as monsters (yes the monsters bleed in this). His brother learns to control this new beast within himself but not before he nearly claws his brother's socket out, hence the signature scar. Crimson has scars on his entire body from trying to reason with his once feral brother. They slowly work their way up to eventually ruling the second most powerful kingdom in the entire Underworld with exception to The Capitol. The constant hunts keep both the brother's conditions satisfied. No one is quite sure how the two skeleton brothers became this way after Gaster’s disappearance, all except Undyne.   

The Story:  

There are two siblings that fall into this world both twins. One is Frisk and the other is Chara. Since this is a swap, Frisk is more aggressive of the two and highly protective of her sister. She tends to be classified as the “bad girl” type. Chara is the sweet and kind one that will abstain from any violence at all. Frisk is not the usual Chara swap because I want them to find their place amongst the world. She has no problem using violence as a means of protection and self-defense but she won’t actively look for a fight if she thinks she can’t win. The monsters are one such variable in the unwinnable category. 

Sadly they have magic within their souls hence the soul traits. They both also have the same soul outwardly, Determination, however, there is one other trait that is housed within their soul that makes them very different. Frisk’s is perseverance and Chara’s is kindness. As usual, the leaders of the Ebott Empire are threatened by their potential for magical abilities and as such are sentenced to be executed. Thus they become part of the hunt. 

Frisk is the first to be captured by none other than Crimson and Chara is found by Grimm. It is strange that Crimson is not his usual self in their circumstances as he can tell, unlike so many others that they have captured in the past, that they are very different. Grimm can’t bring himself to harm Chara due to her innocence and Crimson enjoys Frisks headstrong and sassy attitude. In other words *slaps hands on table* you get a two for one. One Papyrus X Chara and one Frisk X Sans. Both the twins are of adult age.

Eventually much to Crimson’s reluctance they decide to help them escape as unlike most of the AU the monsters have no problem staying this way. Not all of them agree but the Lords certainly love their titles and don’t want to give up that power…that is until Frisk mentions that all those horrible corrupted humans on the surface could be like one giant hunt. In which case Crimson is all for. Grimm has his own motivations enraged that the humans did something so terrible to Chara but he would not sacrifice everything to get to the surface because of that vendetta. 

They make it to Asgore who has all the souls as the Barrier is in The Ruins. He tries to get them to stay instead of sacrificing one of them for their freedom. It’s obvious that the brothers actually don’t want either of them to die. 

As Crimson says: “What is another century or two? We have all the time in the world.”  

Frisk and Chara become integrated into the Underworld and though Grimm continues his hunting he doesn’t want Chara to witness it. Crimson just has Frisk as his little huntress. It is unclear if they will make it out of the Underworld in this AU. It really depends upon how I feel the story would make the most sense and I think having the two sisters happy and accepted into their lives is all they really wanted. They were considered “monsters” on the surface so why return there? Frisk wants to watch it burn… of course… for putting her precious sister through all this. 

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK WITHOUT MY PERMISSION IT IS NOT FOR YOUR USE. IF YOU LIKE MY WORK PLEASE REBLOG INSTEAD! It helps me so much! It makes such a difference.💙