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willowed-wisp · 4 months ago

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HER KNIGHT, HIS HEART - part eight

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Ser Harwin Strong x female!OC/ x reader

WARNINGS: swearing, descriptions of childbirth, mentions child loss, suggestive themes, violence, Criston Cole getting his ass kicked

TEN YEARS LATER…

Elspeth was on a mission, her destination were Alicent’s chambers. Every part of the woman was swollen and she didn’t know whether it were her breasts or beneath her diaphragm that burned. It had been like that very early on in her seventh pregnancy.

Nobody was surprised when she popped out an army, the depravity sounding from their chambers… it wouldn’t take a genius to know she’d become pregnant over and over.

Their eldest, Alyric, was three-and-ten while their youngest, Lyonei, was four.

Knocking on the door… she met a mop of platinum blonde, a strong jaw followed. Her stare lasted mere seconds, turning attention to the open-eyed, mortified sister of hers. “Alicent…” Her head shunned away. Now her focus remained on that of the Rogue Prince- who had been tamed by Laena Velaryon that past decade, “What in the hells did you say?”

“Only the truth, daughter…”

Storming over to him, “I will never be your daughter!” She stared up at him, the same scowl he himself had and the same wickedness- even in High Valyrian. It was returned with a smile.

“The blood of the dragon runs thick…” By the Gods, she would stab him if she got the chance.

“I’m nothing like you.”

“That’s yet to be seen.”

She reminded herself of why she was here- why had he been there in the first place? “What business do you have here?”

“I was asking The Queen if my grandchildren might accompany the princes down to the Dragonpit…”

“Can you stop speaking fucking Valyrian? Prince Daemon, please leave. My sister and I have matters to discuss…” He gave a less than respectful bow. They both seethed. “You are his kin. And it somehow slipped your mind to inform me!” That was their mother in her.

Elspeth's own anger boiled deeper- primal even. Yet she contained that eruption- it wasn't good for the baby. For now. “Father told me well over a decade ago,” that struck a heartstring in the younger, “I didn’t say anything to protect you… you had more than enough on your shoulders.” Elspeth observed the face change. “I was embarrassed.”

“How so?”

“I am a bastard, Alicent. I’ve been trying to escape it… escape him… keep him away from my children,” Rage turned to recoil- for fifteen years she had felt hopeless with the sword over her head, “Please, sister… understand that... I need to protect them…”

It wasn't a scapegoat nor did she cry crocodile tears... she had always been trying to keep her kids safe. It didn’t matter if Alyric was thirteen, he still couldn’t deal with the likes of Daemon Targaryen. Even if his own father was Lord Commander of the City Watch. Luckily for her sanity the prince along with his wife and twin girls were headed to Pentos that next day.

"When you were younger you always looked up to me... what changed?" An ambush down the corridor.

A roll of her eyes, "Could we have this conversation later? Every part of me is swollen, my ribs are like daggers and I cannot be bothered with your manipulation today..." Despite the agony she paced quicker, or so she thought.

"You're just like your mother," Gods, did she wish she was armed.

Continuing forward, "Don't talk about my mother. Not after the pain you caused her."

His hand, with a surprising level of gentleness turned her to face him- the eight month old bump affirmed a comfortable distance. "What did Otto Hightower tell you? That I attacked Alyrie?"

"Didn’t you? Then why am I here with your blood in my veins..."

A sincere, stern look on the man's face- he hesitated in his words, "The times I shared with your mother were of her choice... my decisions may be... questionable, at times... but I’m not heartless." She shoved him away, unsure.

"That's yet to be seen, my prince..." She did the proper action of a curtsy, unable to commit to it fully due to her condition. That confused her even more.

Had her father lied to her all of those years? An entire decade.

She did naturally have a liking for Daemon in an idolisation type of manner, they shared the same temperament; knowing fully well why they did.

The woman needed to see her children, probably in the courtyard…

She shares his majesty’s presence on the balcony- spying if her wayward children and husband were in fact there. “Your Grace,” she curtsied with some labour. It had definitely been the hardest pregnancy- even when her twin boys, Jaimes and Ronin, made home in her stomach. She hoped the bloating would fade when she delivered- not wishing to feel blistered her entire life.

The King- dishevelled due to illness- waved his hand, “No need for such formalities, Elspeth- we are family,” he didn’t know how closely related they truly were.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he motioned for her to take a perch- she smiled up at the Hand of the King, her father-in-law.

Turning her attention down to the courtyard she saw no knight of the name Harwin Strong, only that of Criston Cole. With him, the princes and her own children stood. Listening to every word he said. “I’m going to see if Ser Criston requires assistance with training,” her feet despised her but she stood. Buckling slightly, held firmly by Lyonel.

“Maybe some rest would benefit you, Elspeth,” the man said with caution. “Ser Criston is the best swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms- he can handle training the children…”

She patted the hand on her shoulder, “Rest is for the dead,” she joked, though she could be in the grave that very next month.

Early on into her pregnancy she was diagnosed with ‘toxic birth disease’. The mortality rate was… devastatingly high, and she informed the Maesters not to divulge to her Lord husband- he worried so…

She would make it through… she had to for the children she made her way down for.

That same courtyard she used to hack training mannequins and Harwin would always catch her. But now she bore witness to her own children- even her own girls alongside their brothers and cousins.

Alyric stood out like a sore thumb, tall and already gaining his father’s ballast. Even his smile was like Harwin’s and his fighting stance. That grin turned into a scowl, and shouting commenced. “Ser Criston, Luke is struggling, if I may-,”

“No little Lord Strong, you may not. Lucerys must learn, as I did from the pommel of a sword or the blade itself,” Elspeth liked neither the condescension nor the tone the knight used. “If you’re a trained warrior, Alyric, spar with me.” He grappled the front of the boy’s shirt, who was able to maintain balance from the brute force.

She staved off intruding- Alyric wouldn’t care for the embarrassment of conceding because of his mother being protective. Like his father, Alyric was formidable in stature and presence but that didn’t provide technique.

Ser Criston presumed he would have the eldest Strong on the floor in one strike but Alyric was a young brute. Until the knight crushed him to the ground, “You’re not the best there has been, boy. Maybe the Lord Commander needs to teach you modesty,”

That was the last straw, “Ser Criston.” The children shivered at that voice- for there was nothing they feared more than the wrath of their mother, “We are finished here for the day children…” voice as soft as silk and as gentle as a feather. They ran along- Gwen ushering the younger ones out.

And she did not care if they had an audience overhead, “I do not take orders from you. You may be of royal birth, but you are still a bastard.” He must have overheard Daemon and Alicent.

“You forget yourself, Cole. Strong words for a common-born concubine.” His hand wrapped her cheek before she could think. Not phased she readied for his raised fist, aiming for her face. But he found the floor thanks to a swiftly negotiated knee to the crotch. Done so with grace and decorum. “A reminder of who my father is. Now stay on your knees… where you rightfully belong,” venom rolled off her tongue. Looking up towards the disapproving faces of the King and Lyonel Strong.

A face far too sweet for the person behind it gave a snide smirk, “You sound just like him,” he paused - studying her every move, “Your mouths move far too much, for what you both are… conniving cunts.” Contemplating whether or not to crouch down, deciding not to; being eight months along.

"You're the one on the floor after hitting a lady who is with babe..." Her shadowed green gaze bore straight into the man's soul, "What a sad little life, Cole... now they all see what a wretch you are."

Elspeth agreed with him. She did sound like Daemon, but at least with the Rogue Prince you knew what to expect.

The unexpected.

Clutching her swelled stomach, she paced to her sister's chambers. Heart pounding, her back felt constricted. Elspeth greeted the guards stationed outside of the door with politeness, stepping into the room- finding those big brown eyes. "Elspeth...?"

"Your 'sworn shield' just hit me... King Viserys and the Lord Hand saw it for themselves…" Elspeth's forehead felt clammy- cheeks reddened.

"Ser Criston... hit you?" The woman didn't know if she nodded in answer to her sister.

Alicent's arm wrapped around her older sister- feeling how hot she was. The unmistakeable coiling in her lower stomach was all too familiar, "Fuck..."

"What is it?" Something felt different, body numb. She could no longer feel or hear Alicent. To her, she was in a forest with her mother's long red hair swaying as they rode deeper into the trees. But in reality her sister screamed for the assistance of Maesters and for the presence of the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms.

Curls were the first thing she awoke to followed by bloodshot eyes like the ocean. "My strong knight..." Milk of the poppy, she presumed- reaching her hand to rub his cheek with her thumb. His rigidity solved itself as he welcomed that warmth- not nearly as searing as she had been beforehand. But even under the influence, Elspeth knew her husband- something was direly wrong. "What troubles you?"

Then she remembered snippets. How she rattled the King's quarters with cries to keep her baby safe... "No... we couldn't have lost the baby... Harwin..." Tears wrapped his eyes, shaking his head. The murmurs of child-like giggles in the distance.

"We have a daughter..." But a plague cast over him, until he broke. Normally she was the one cracking like a piece of glass. His name sounded so divine on her lips and her touch a warm reminder that he was alive as was she.

His body rocked the bed with sobs as her arms enveloped his bulking frame. His golden cloak beneath her fingertips, "We're both here. The Stranger will have to make a better attempt..."

"You were dead,” time stopped. She hadn’t been crying, but when Harwin; a man who possessed such redoubt, quivered in his whisper… she couldn’t help it. “The Maesters said that your insides failed you, and by some miracle,” a tear shed, “you are here… by my side. And so is our darling daughter. What shall we name her?”

Her head crashed against the pillow. The look on his face imprinted in her memory- one of joy laboured by disparity, “A miracle… Mirabel… our little Mia,” the innocent face of the girl present- Rhaenyra holding the girl in her arms.

She had been crying, “She may be the cutest button of your brood… what is her name?”

“Mirabel… our Mia…”

Criston Cole was brought to justice. The King was appalled, and the prince was blind with fury. “Ser Criston Cole… you have been a faithful knight to the Crown, but today I witnessed abhorrent actions that are forbidden as a member of the Kingsguard nor of any noble man,” Elspeth watched on alongside her husband, “Before I cast judgement, speak… what do you have to say for yourself?”

Elspeth respected the king, but he was too lenient. “The words of Lady Elspeth are as tainted as her blood, Your Grace…”

“What do you mean? Lady Elspeth is a just, fair woman,”

“She is a bastard, Your Grace, not the daughter of Otto Hightower,” Viserys’ laughed at the man knelt down.

Elspeth was frozen in the crowd of nobility- all eyes on her, “And who may her father be?” The King held genuine amusement to the accusation.

The heavy doors opened, and so entered the Prince Daemon, “She is my kin.”

Ser Criston, no matter how true his claim had been, was exiled to the Wall. While Elspeth became legitimised under the eyes of the King and of the Seven. Though, Viserys was not thrilled- he was glad peace was made with Daemon, who remained in Kings Landing.

Laena passed away giving birth to their third child, killed by dragonfyre- Vhagar. The question of Rhaenyra’s children wasn’t thrown into contention, and they were never to know that the disgraced knight Ser Criston Cole was their father. But Elspeth knew what Jace and Luke were- but she loved them like her own sons. She would protect them with her dying breath.

And she did not break that vow, even against her own sisters. Lylith had always loved animals, held such compassion that she spent her free days compiling a bestiary of the creatures of Westeros. She was unlike Gwen, who loved hunting- alike their mother. The second born daughter had never detailed Vhagar up close.

During the wake of Laena Velaryon, she sought out the she-dragon. They feared she had been eaten, but she arrived returned on green back of the biggest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms. Harwin didn’t know whether to be proud or terrified that his family owned the two largest dragons - except Vermithor - in the Seven Kingdoms.

Peace was quaint in the years following.

Lyonel Strong still remained as the King’s Hand, though, Otto Hightower still plotted his return. Quashed when Viserys died, and Rhaenyra swiftly ascended. “I wish to offer you the post as my Hand…” It was what the pair had always dreamed of.

“The Lords will not abide by that-“

“I am Queen, I am the Head of the Seven Kingdoms and they will follow my commands,” she paused at the apprehension written over Elspeth’s face.

The Princess shook her head, “Lord Lyonel has been a faithful Hand to your father- ,”

“How am I supposed to rule if I cannot fully rely on my Hand? In my absence how can I rely on the judgement of men to carry out my word?” The Queen held the Princess’ hands, “You are my closest friend- ever since you arrived in Kings Landing- before I was born. You have never shown deceit nor malice on my part- even my husband doesn’t have my complete favour… you do…”

“If I say yes will it stop your queenly speech?” Rhaenyra gave a nod. “Then yes, I will be your Hand…”

She was a bloody good one at that, Rhaenyra remained in Kings Landing as she always had.

Ric was a promising young heir to Harrenhal- knighted for his fighting in the second war for the Stepstones. He was a good sword, and betrothed to Rhaena Velaryon for his actions. They suited one another- calm and loyal.

Gwen, unruly like her mother, rode horses not dragons; fearing great heights. She found a love match in the Lord of the North, Cregan Stark. He loved her fighting spirit- unlike any Southerner he had met.

Lily rode the biggest dragon in the Known World. Her mother refused a marriage with the Lannisters- who called out for an alliance. Lily found affections with the young Lord Oscar Tully. They had proven to be a youthful yet wise Lord and Lady of Riverrun.

Jaimes found himself separated from his twin, Ronin but Jaime was living his dream under the wing of his uncle Gwayne. Travelling the Seven Kingdoms at the age of six-and-ten, yet to find himself a wife but with his father’s looks and mother’s drive- it’s more so the fact that he isn’t looking.

Ronin had claimed the Bronze Fury at two-and-ten, and has since built a loving bond with Vermithor. He found himself with a crowd of women gawking, his mother’s angelic features and his father’s demeanour. Yet he only had eyes for the brash Alysanne Blackwood, admiring the huntress and sharing liaisons while at Harrenhal. Elspeth warned him to ask for her hand before somebody else demanded it- and he feared no person as much as he feared and loved his mother.

Cullen favoured the pen rather than the sword, becoming a scholar. He toured around the libraries, transcribing every ounce of knowledge he garnered. This took him to the Free Cities- where he encountered a young maiden. Her name was Aliandra, she loved his inquisitive nature and he her fiery attitude. It was only when he ventured to her homeland that he discovered her to be Princess Aliandra Martell, and he was to be her Prince Consort. It aided in relations between the Seventh Kingdom.

Lyonei continued her education in alchemy and prophecy. Still close friends with Princess Helaena, though, at Harrenhal she found the company of Alys Rivers- rumoured to be her aunt- and judiciously followed her expertise. For that time being she had no room for love, neither did her parents force her.

Mia resided at Driftmark, Maesters said she had problems with the heart. But she enjoyed life with her head in books. Rhaenys was more than willing to house the gentle-spoken, petite girl even in her adulthood. She found the sea air aided in her ailments, finding love in a sailor.

Their parents moved to Harrenhal when Ser Lyonel died. Larys lurked in the shadows, not any danger.

The Kingdoms lived in peace. But the pair weren’t alive when the power struggles took place- resulted to ash and bone.

Dying in bed together- both of old bones. Knowing what eternal love felt like, reuniting with Alyrie Florent and those lost along the years.

History would remember the fierceness of Elspeth Hightower- true Targaryen born - married a strong. An issue of seven, rider of Ebrion the Cannibal and the best shot in the Seven Kingdoms.

THE END

___________________________

So this is the last part of the series. I have loved writing this and thank you for the support with it. Thank you to everybody reading ❤️❤️❤️

Series taglist:-

@llynx7 @babyred7 @felicisimor @beebeechaos

#house of the dragon #harwin breakbones #harwin x reader #harwin strong #hotd #house hightower #house strong #house targaryen #ser harwin strong #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd fic #hotd spoilers

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leleamo · 5 months ago

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Hello people!! Welcome to another post about the rewrite of Helluva Boss!!

Or rather... *Looks at papers*

The lonely imp, that was the name you guys choseIs

today! Let's talk about the hierarchy of hell!! Let's Go!!

Okay, I spent perhaps too long on Wikipedia researching this... But anyway! we have the seven rings, and we also have the Goetia, I did it like this, in each ring there is one of the seven deadly sins, and each ring has a quantity of Goetia, let me show you!

First ring, contains eight kings, in the second, twenty three dukes, in the third, seven princes, fourth, fifteen marquises, fifth, five Earls, sixth, a knight and seventh, twelve presidents

Cool huh?

Anyway, let me show you the hierarchy, ignore me not writing the entire name of L, I just don't like writing that name, anyway let's go!

Six deadly sins/greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, sloth

Kings

Dukes

Princes

Marquises

Earls, Knight, Presidents

Beings from hell, you know, the urban legends, like imps, demons/ And also non-animals

Sin

"Ah, Letícia, aren't you going to explain each one?" But of course! on another day, with a post and drawing of each one! Did you like it? And then I'll explain everything! Anyway, that's all, see you on Monday!

#helluva boss #helluva boss critique #helluva boss critical #helluva boss rewrite #The lonely imp

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graciesbow · 6 months ago

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can't catch me now

Hello! This is my second fanfic, cross posted on ao3

You can request anything in my bio under "requests here!" I hope you enjoy!

...

but I'm in the trees,

im in the breeze,

my footsteps on the ground,

you'll see my face in every place,

but you can't catch me now

Making your way through the woods swiftly, doing your best to avoid the sharp rocks and twisted branches, you realised it's almost curfew. Your breathe is shaky, the beginning of December upon Scotland, a thick layer of snow layering the ground.

I am definitely not dressed for this...

You're almost to the edge of the forest, when you hear soft footsteps. You freeze. Who would be out here this late?

Well you're out here dumbass..

As the gentle breeze and the light falling snowflakes cascade down your bare arms you slowly look around, looking for any sign of who could be out here. As you're looking around something catches your eye, a mass of black striding through the thick snow.

You knew exactly who that was.

Professor Snape.

What the hell is he doing...

If he sees you you're done for...

As you're go to quietly turn away, a branch snaps under your foot. Fuck. You turn your head back to the place you saw Snape, hes staring right at you. That man has the awareness of a goddamn hawk. Accepting your fate, you slowly start walking over to him. Trudging through the snow with your unsuitable shoes. As soon as you reach him, you brace for a some sort of outburst as to the reason you were out here so late.

But it never arrives.

He stares down at you with an unreadable expression. Anger.. maybe, disappointment.. no.. curiosity?.. sort of. "Miss Y/N," he finally speaks. "Why tell me, are you outside, in the freezing cold, in nothing but your pajamas." He sternly says as raises an eyebrow at me.

You look down, embarrassed at the real reason you're out here. "I was just trying to enjoy the snow at night, I think it looks better with the dark sky." You spoke, barely above a whisper. You weren't completely lying, you did like the snow, you just didn't like going out at night. The real reason you just didn't want to talk about.

Snape, still staring down at you, finally sighs and mutters, "come on then". You finally look up to see him walking away towards the edge of the thick wood. You silently follow him with your arms wrapped around your torso, trying to warm up. As he leads you through the trees and up to the courtyard, you both finally arrive at the double doors.

He ushers you inside and closes the doors with a bang. He suddenly turns to you with his wand in hand and mutters a spell. You instantly feel warm spread throughout your entire body. "Oh, thank you sir." He grunts in response and whips around again suddenly speed walking down a hallway. You take that as a indication to follow.

"Where are we going?" You spoke after a while. "Your common room." He said with a hint of obviousness in his voice. Right..

As you both arrive to your common room double doors, he turns again and waits for you to say the password. You speak it aloud, the door cracks open with a creak. He swings it open without stepping inside. You leisurely walked inside and spun to look at him again. "Goodnight, Miss Y/N. I hope to not see parading around in the snow at a time like this again." And with that he shuts the door, quite harshly if you might say. As you turn to head to the dormitories, wondering how you managed to escape a punishment...

Be grateful you didn't and just go to bed..

Time skip about 3 years. Now the half blood prince era.

Sitting in Transfiguration class, now in your seventh year, you couldn't help but think back on that moment in your fourth year. It was the start of a sort of friendship you had with your professor. You knew things he liked that no one else knew, and he knew things about you no one else did. You had trinkets in his office you specifically liked, or books that you always re read when you sat in there after dinners.

You also thought about how much the wizarding world was changing, with voldemort being confirmed back, everyone was scared. Death eaters escaping, people dying. It was terrifying. The only place you truly felt safe was when you were in Professor Snape's office. It just had to be you two, reading or drinking tea talking. Being in each other's presence was enough to calm you.

As this was your last class of the day, you rushed down to change as soon as you were released. After you changed into more comfortable clothes, you sat on your bed reading a book borrowed from Professor Snape as you waited for dinner.

...

Now, sitting in Snape's office, you were feeling nervous. There was no reason to feel that way. You were sitting here on his couch, with him on the armchair reading. But you couldn't shake this feeling in your stomach. Almost like... betrayal..

You didn't realize you were sitting weird until Snape spoke. "Are you alright?" His voice rumbled calmy. Your gaze snapped from the fire over to where he was sitting. "Oh, yes I'm fine." You replied with a slight smile, and turned your attention back to the blazing fire.

What you couldn't see, is that his eyes stayed on you, narrowing. He suddenly stood up and declared he was going to put a pot of tea on.

When you still didn't reply he glanced at your form sitting still as a statue. What is wrong with her?, He thought to himself. He shook it off and went to go steep the tea, but couldn't get rid of the a feeling.

Guilt.

He hadn't done anything to her, he thought.

As he made the tea, the anxious feeling still in the out of your gut. You shook it off, thinking it'll pass. You turned to watch him make the tea and your stomach sunk as his sleeve on his left arm lifted a little.

The dark mark..

No. No. NO.

You couldn't breathe. It felt as if you were suffocating. Is he one of them? Has he killed people? Would he kill you? Oh god...

You shakily stood up off the couch without taking your eyes off him, making your way to the door when he looks at you. "Y/N?" He asked carefully. He looked down to where you were staring at, and his heart dropped. He snaps his gaze back up to where you once stood but now is replaced with an open door and no you. His pulse started racing with panic as he bolted out the door to look for you. There was no sign of you, left or right. You were gone..

A few days past and there was no sign of you. Not in classes. Not at meals. Not in the hallways. Its like you had vanished into thin

air. He asked teachers, students, everyone if they had seen you. Nothing. He finally decided to go up to Dumbledores Office, find out where you were.

As he ascended the spiral stairs, he grew nervous. What if you weren't alright, what if you were hurt? What if he never saw you again, just because you didn't let him explain.

...

As he retreated back to his office, he couldn't believe his ears. You had unenrolled. He didn't even know that was possible. He was angry, confused and frustrated that you didn't let him explain. That you didn't hear him out. As he sat in his arm chair, he looked around the room. Nothing had changed from that night. The last time he saw you.

The book you were going to read sitting on the couch, the kettle still on the stove. He blew out a breath a stood up, walking over to the opposite couch to store the book away. He flipped it over and read the cover. Your favorite book he had. He put it away in the nearest bookshelf and turned toward the mantle piece.

His gaze immediately caught the miniature globe on the left side of the frail wood. Pins sticking out of it of all the places you planned to visit after you graduated.

It made him angry. How dare you leave him with no explanation, how could you not listen to him? He always had an answer whenever you asked a question so why did you leave for this one? Didn't you know he wouldn't do something like this?

In his rage, he completely destroyed everything you had ever expressed even liking the tiniest bit. He soon realized it was almost everything, almost every trinket, many of his books, cups, quills, inks. He wanted you gone for good. If you couldn't even find it in yourself to sit down and listen for a moment, then fine.

But as the months passed, he realized, you were in things he couldn't destroy. Everytime a cool breeze would blow by he would think of you. Anytime the grass would sway, you would be haunting the back of his mind. Everytime the golden hour would start you would be there. He caught himself looking for you in the midst of students. At meals, Hogsmeade trips.

And as he sat in the headmasters office, his new position upon him. He realized...

You would never leave.

But he could also never catch you.

#severus snape x reader #severus snape #alan rickman x reader #alan rickman #pro severus snape #harry potter #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape x oc #snape x reader

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thenightfolknetwork · 8 months ago

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I am an antichrist.

The Real thing, born to a seventh virgin daughter after her soul was consumed by my father, Satan, in a ritual of fire, glory and light.

I was raised as instructed by The Book— Don't ask which Book, you don't want to know, the knowledge would melt your eardrums— to be the destroyer of the world, the prince of sins and the devourer of souls. I am the One Who Will Bring Fire to the earth, I am the One who will run the blood of innocents through the streets and boil the sea with my mere desire, I am the dark side of the moon, I am humanity's nightmare, I am—

I am 12 years old.

And I'm at school.

I just learned about ecosystems: The delicate balance of a food chain, the harmony that exists in the earth when a network of fungi extracts nitrogen from the earth and a rotting tree leaves the soil rich for next spring.

I found out about corals recently too. They are alive and an extremely complex life form for something that will never move, corals don't die as long as nothing kills them, isn't that a strange and wonderful concept?

I always wanted to be the World Destroyer.

It never occurred to me that bringing hell to earth would mean no deer or bees or coyotes.

If you increase the average sea temperature by more than two degrees, millions of corals will die. I don't know if I want to boil the sea if that's the end result.

But I am the Antichrist and I like being the Antichrist. I like to be Apotheosis, the crack in the glass, the rotten apple, the mercury in the water.

But I also like the world as it is, even if it doesn't bow down to me in fear.

What do I do?

(What do I say to my father?)

This is the problem with prophecies – they always put the subject under such a tremendous amount of pressure! I feel sure that, if your father had simply not mentioned his plans for your future, you would have grown up without these anxieties and likely gone on to fulfil your unholy purpose without a second thought, in a time frame that felt sensible and natural to you.

Instead, you've been burdened with a terrible and unreasonable amount of responsibility. No wonder you're feeling torn! This is more than any twelve year old should have to consider.

The important thing to remember is that you don't have to make a decision about this right away. You are the Antichrist and you will remain the Antichrist while you take a little while to decide the best course of action for you. The end of the world will still be there when you're ready for it.

As to the apocalypse itself, this is the other reason prophecies can be so frustrating. They are simply never specific enough to be helpful. Yes, you may be destined to end the world – but which world, exactly? And how much of that 'blood of innocents, boiling seas' stuff is literal, and how much is just a religious scribe getting carried away with himself?

In my experience, there are many, many ways a person might fulfil a prophecy without having to bring a fiery demise to this particular realm of existence. You might take a short hop over to another reality and destroy an uninhabited world, for example.

Alternatively, you might take your prophecy in a more metaphorical sense. “The world” we live in today is one that allows billionaires and business magnates destroy our environment in the name of profit. Perhaps you could fulfil your great purpose by destroying the social and political structures that make that world possible.

I understand your trepidation about bringing this up with your father. However, I really do think that you should consider it. Looking after you is his job, after all, and I'm sure he wouldn't want you struggling with these feelings alone. Reach out to him, and let him know how you feel.

You don’t have to decide this all at once. Whatever else you say to your father, you need to make it clear that you will not be embarking on any sort of apotheosis until you've at least finished your GCSEs. You are a child, and you deserve to have a proper childhood, whatever the future might hold for you.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

#answered #the nightfolk network #monstrous agonies

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evilasiangenius · 8 months ago

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“Do you think we’ll find him?” Crowley asked, sitting against the wall, Aziraphale’s black robe draped over his knees. The work on the mending continued; he didn’t do more than a fingerlength or so every now and again because it was so hard to work with black thread on slippery black silk.

“Honestly? I think if he appears, it will only be because he wants to.” Aziraphale had laid down beside him; unlike the angel’s casual sprawl, he laid with arms folded and legs crossed primly at the ankles.

“And so far he hasn’t wanted to appear.”

“No, I think not. I suppose he’ll appear when he wants to, and no earlier. Though perhaps he doesn’t know we’re looking for him...”

Crowley made a few more stitches, and then set the work down.

“Done? Shall we have dinner? Or would you like some tea first. Oh, or a cold drink, like a fruit sherbet-”

“No. I...” And Crowley stared at the edge of the black robe that rested on his knee, lingering. He longed to reach out to it, to clutch it close and take in the scent of cedar and lavender despite the needles still threaded through the fine cloth, and it was such a vexing, contradictory feeling that he suddenly stood up, trying to shake it off.

“What’s wrong?”

And all around him were the signs of disloyalty; his half-finished kithara, the partially mended robe, everything obscured from the eye of Heaven within a demon’s secret hiding place, hidden from even the machinations of Hell itself and he wondered if this was a temptation and maybe that didn’t matter because why tempt someone who was throwing themselves readily into the flames.

He thought about serving in Hell. It would be terrifying at first, the monstrous visages of sneering demons all around him and the tortures or threat of destruction that awaited every and any failures. He knew the disgrace of the Fall would never leave him, but it was not like he wasn’t used to it, berated into crushing shame and guilt over and over in the halls of Heaven for every failure, perceived or otherwise. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad, a minor retainer favored by a Prince of Hell, and then it could be like this always, with the warmth and heat of Aziraphale’s body pressed against his, and the touch of Aziraphale’s soft breath against his bare skin, and-

“Would you really run away with me?"

#good omens #angel crowley #demon aziraphale #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #the seventh prince of hell

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liketwoswansinbalance · 4 months ago

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Thoughts That Go Whump in the Night for Rafal

Note: I tried to find as many torture methods as I could that involved the bird motif. Do not search for these if you do not want visual representations of them.

⸻

Caught in a snare trap like a dumb woodcock à la Hamlet.

Eyes plucked out by doves à la "Cinderella."

Bird-who-was-formerly-a-ghost-boy-now-reincarnated drops a millstone onto his head à la "The Juniper Tree."

Transformed into a bird and stabbed by pins on a windowsill upon landing à la "The Canary Prince."

Chased by geese in the park.

Hitchcock-style bird attacks.

Viking blood eagle execution method. (When the rib cage was broken and opened, the lungs allegedly fluttered like "wings.")

Gibbeted in a cage.

Cucking and ducking stool.

A mock-Icarus scenario, flying too close to the sun and overheating, perhaps afflicted by the drip of burning wax.

Tarred and feathered à la American Revolution.

Bound to a rock to have his liver feasted on by an eagle everyday à la Prometheus.

Pau de arara or "parrot's perch," a stress position. (Bird sellers use it for transporting birds.)

White torture. (A form of psychological torture and sensory deprivation—everything in sight is white. Would be halfway decent camouflage, actually.)

The whirligig. (It has a whimsical name, yet it involves a spinning cage.)

Strappado or "pigeon torture."

Live burial. (Self-explanatory. Fits the vibes of TLEA.)

Second Circle of Hell. (Whipped around in an endless cyclone, representing Rafal's wind motif. That motif is actually more present in the main series than in the prequels and it featured in an OTK flashback.)

Seventh Circle of Hell. (Preyed on by harpies.)

Stymphalian birds. (Sorry to the Stymphs, but they were originally man-eating in classical mythology.)

⸻

I feel like all this shouldn't need a disclaimer, but obviously, don't try any of this at home, not that anyone could in most cases. These ideas are for strictly fictional purposes.

Also, suppose Vulcan could've used any of these? I have another post with less graphic mentions of torture here.

#school for good and evil #rise of the school for good and evil #rafal #rafal mistral #sge #sfgae #the school for good and evil #tsfgae #rotsge #rotsfgae #my post #whump #torture #psychological whump #bird motif #bird #birds #classic fairy tales #classical mythology

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miko32 · 7 months ago

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Born into the Seven Ruler's of Devildom

I was isekai'd to a world in a book. The title was "Kristin in the Harem of the Seven Demon Lords." Like its title, a human named Kristin was brought to Devildom against her will and had to survive through the temptation of the seven demon lords, who were brothers and avatars of the seven sins.

The seventh brother, Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth.

The sixth brother, Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony.

The fifth brother, Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust.

The fourth brother, Satan, the Avatar of Wrath.

The third brother, Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy.

The second brother, Mammon, the Avatar of Greed.

The first brother, Lucifer, the fallen angel, the Avatar of Pride. My father. The one who succeeded in seducing the human Kristin and impregnating her.

I was in shambles with the ending. Lucifer had kicked Kristin out, banished to the swamp and died giving birth. The baby survived and was named Leilel by Kristin, and that baby is me.

I'm Leilel Morningstar, the child of Lucifer Morningstar.

CHAPTER LIST

1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

TAG LIST (If anyone wants to be tag, just comment and tell me what you think, I will love to hear your opinion 🤗)

@f0uerleafedcl0ver , @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

Chapter 6 --- I'm still in Hell

Three days later, the students of RAD are in an uproar. Every demon has the newest newspaper. The front page is loudly written:

"MEPHISTOPHELES, THE TRUE LOYAL LORD TO THE CROWN OF DEVILDOM, DIAVOLO, CERBERUS BREEDING IS SHUT DOWN!"

I stared at the title with bored eyes. So loudmouthed. Then I read the columns.

The Cerberus Breeding. An operation built by the Demon Lord, Jezelbub, who rebelled against the crown Prince of Devildom, Lord Diavolo. For almost a decade, this operation had been going on under the noses of Lord Diavolo's reign. Entrusted to the Seven Demon Brothers, who had no result at all....

I snorted at that. It's obvious Mephistopheles is mocking the demon brothers.

The demon brothers had only found small clues, a clean scene, unreliable eyewitnesses, yet thousands of hell dog homeowners still went missing due to the operation.

Now, homeowners' pets may rejoice thanks to the greatness and true demon from the House of Lords, Mephistopheles.

"IS SHUT DOWN!" shouted from the picture of Mephistopheles in front of the warehouse.

"Hm," I mumbled, feeling a little satisfied that Mephistopheles' hatred toward the Demon Brothers ran so deep that he wrote about them being deemed as useless. I smirked, then neatly folded the paper and carefully put it in my satchel, making my way to the colosseum for Mephistopheles' award.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"GIVE IT UP FOR MEPHISTOPHELES!!!"

I covered my ears, laughed, and clapped my hands with the other students as they cheered and chanted Mephisto's name as he ascended the stage. Pride evident in his steps and a big smile adorning his face, he laughed and waved at the crowd. Diavolo accompanied him, shaking his hands, while flying cameras with bat wings captured their photo.

"Demons of Devildom, may I present," Diavolo gestured to Barbatos, who was carrying a big red box. It opened to reveal a golden crown of thorns. "The Bright Thorn of Devildom!"

The crowd gasped in awe at the magnificent crown and clapped their hands. I too was amazed. The crown was only bestowed upon the most devoted demons who had contributed to the Crown Heir of Devildom's works. I don't know if the Seven Brothers had ever receive this. Did they?

Wow. Just my information could lead Mephisto to receive this? I need to ask for more favors from him.

Diavolo then crowned Mephistopheles. He thanked his Lordship, and Diavolo allowed him to take the podium for his speech. The crowd cheered as Mephistopheles did.

Mephisto raised his hand to silence the crowd. "Now, all students of RAD, I could not be credited for all of this," Mephisto said. "For it is the loyalty of our Crown Prince, Lord Diavolo, that has pushed me to the limit. As such..."

Mephisto continued, bragging about his loyalty, all for the glory of Lord Diavolo. I shook my head. The book talked about Mephisto being absolutely in awe of Diavolo. Seeing him in real life on stage, green eyes sparkling with admiration, like a kid looking up to his idol. It's kind of cute.

...

What the... What am I thinking? I shook my head. Maybe because the adult mind inside me. I may be thirteen, but added with my first life, I should've been thirty years old at least. So I'm way much older on the inside. I huff through my nose.

No Leilel, not with a demon. Never with a-

Suddenly, my body shivered in a different sense. I look up and my eyes caught the demon at the far corner of the stage, Lucifer. His deep red eyes bore into me.

It's like an arrow shoot right into my chest. I held my breath in fear, feeling like a predator being cornered by its prey. Lucifer red eyes look deep into my soul, sucking all the life in me. I clench my fist at my side and move away, slowly. Away from his peering gaze and turned back. I sneaked out from the crowd, exiting the colosseum.

I didn't feel his stare again, but maybe that's just wishful thinking.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

I decided to hide in Mephistopheles' office. I'm sure he won't mind. We still had some business to do. Like changing my shackle. My wrist felt heavy and felt like being cut off. Mephistopheles has to change the term on the seal he put on my wrist. Soon, it'll be a protection spell.

I was almost fell asleep on the expensive vintage couch, when the door of the office bursts open.

"Forgive me, fellas, I have business to take care of." Mephisto says to the demons who had come to admire him. He must have noticed me and kept the door ajar to hide me.

"Aww, Mephisto, another work to do?"

"You’ve solved one of the highest operations, and you're still gonna work?"

"Celebrate, man!"

"I’m sorry, it's just this one deal I had to take care of. Goodbye!" Mephisto slams the door. He sighs and turns at me with a smile. "Now, where were we?" he stride around the room and takes a seat across from me. Unlike the other day, his smile is genuine, like a salesman to his biggest client. His eyes lit up. "Oh! I forgot! I should offer my guest a beverage!"

He starts to stand when I stop him. "No need, let's discuss our deal first."

Mephistopheles stop and sighs as he sits back. He doesn’t seem to like this. Well, he was cocky enough to accuse me of being one of the rebels. Mephistopheles leans forward, hands folded over his lap, and say the demon's magic word. "Well, what do you desire, Lami?"

I bit my lower lips, remembering Lucifer's red eyes at the colosseum "First of all, did you tell Lucifer about me?"

"Wha-no!" Mephisto huffs, leaning back on his coach. "I kept my promise!" I glower at him. Mephistopheles pursed his lips and asks, "Still, I wonder, why wouldn’t you take any credit for this?"

"Because that’s where our deal will be." I answer and lean forward. "I want your support and protection from any demons in this school who would bother my school life, and that includes the seven lords."

Mephistopheles' eyes widen, and he strokes his chin in thought. "The other demons, I get that. But why the seven lords?"

I almost rolled my eyes. Still suspicious, huh? I can't tell him that I'm Lucifer's daughter that he might put me through torture and kill me. Guess I have to pull out my trump card. "Let’s just say I don’t have any faith in any of the former angels who call themselves demons."

Mephistopheles whole body flinch in surprised. He blinks, and suddenly laughs. "Aha ha! Is that so? Well," Mephistopheles chuckled, hand over his chin. "We have the same thought, Lami."

No, we don’t. I just know that from the book. I smile back. "Oh, we do?" Mephistopheles nods, leaning on his hand as he gives me a smile. It felt, genuine and cute. I cough. "Anyway, I will only need your protection until I can get into the exchange program."

"The exchange program?"

"Yes, I plan to go to the human world, to tempt humans. It has been my dream since I was a little girl."

"Ugh, such a common dream for demons," Mephisto mumbles.

I ignored his comment. "So, do we have a deal?"

Mephisto smiles at me and again pulls out his gloves, offering his right hand. "It's a deal."

Once we shake hands, the seal on my wrist glows, changing our contract. He lets go to let me look at my wrist with the newest seal. My protection, my promises of the future. Now, I’ll just wait for time to go by. Then I’ll be in my real world, the human world.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

That night,

"Give me my money back, scumbag Mammon!!!"

"Why don't ya just shake me, maybe I'll rain money from my pants!"

The avatar of envy did so, shaking the second-born with all his might. Mammon shouted at his brother to stop. They both continued to shake each other off.

There was a meeting between the demon lords in the council room of RAD. All six demons were seated together at the round table. Satan read his book despite his rowdy brothers. Asmodeus hummed while looking at himself in the mirror. Belphegor slept on the table while his twin brother Beelzebub chewing candy.

Then, the first-born stepped in, Lucifer. Mammon and Levi, who were still bickering with each other. Two fists smacked on top of their heads.

"Ow!"

"Hey! What's the big idea?!"

They both flinched under Lucifer's red eyes. "Be quiet!" He commanded and sat in the middle. "The meeting starts."

Satan was the first to speak.

“I have collected the necessary curses for the demons responsible for the Cerberus Breeds. All the most torturous curses, even the deadliest ones." Satan let out sinister laughs.

"Hold your horses, Satan," Asmo hummed to his brother.

Beel raised his hand. "Lucifer, what will happen to the dogs that were used?"

"Diavolo has decided to keep the dogs and treat them. I had Levi find some professional demons to handle this," Lucifer replied, turning to the third-born.

"Oh, oh yeah, here," Levi handed Lucifer the papers. The first-born looked through the papers and then back to his brothers.

They continued discussing shutting down the operation. The talk between them smoothed down into a debate about how Mephistopheles found the first base operation.

"I mean, the guy could have just happened to come across it," Mammon said.

"Are you really that much of an idiot?"

"LOL, LOL," Levi exclaim, typing to his D.D.D. "Mammon said. "Mephisto finding it was a 'coincidence,' so stupid! And tweet!"

"Oi! Why do you have to tweet that?!"

"Levi, you're not supposed to tweet our meeting,"

"That's what worries you?!"

BANG!

The demon brothers turned to the door, where two human exchange students stood.

"Hi, everyone~~" Carina greeted. The other human, a plain boy with glasses and pale skin, lifted his hand.

"Hi, sorry to bother you,"

Lucifer groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you two doing here?"

The boy frightened as he hid behind Barbatos who escorted the two humans. Barbatos explain. "Forgive our interruption, but Carina refused to go home until the brothers are done."

"I-I..." the boy stuttered. "Didn't want..."

"Awww~ Mathieu, are you gonna keep hiding behind Barbatos?" Asmo stood, leaning over the table with a mischievous smile. "He's also a demon too, you know?"

Mathieu shrieked and jumped away from Barbatos. Barbatos only smiled.

Lucifer's eyebrow stress became more evident. "Aren't you responsible for tonight's dinner, Carina? Don't be selfish and go home."

"Awww... I can't just leave you all behind~~" Carina pouted, putting on her puppy eyes. But none of the demon brothers swayed, giving Carina a dead look. Mathieu gulped down his throat, Carina blinked at the brothers, confused by their response.

"Why don't you all have a meal here?" Barbatos suggested. "It has already passed dinner," He checked his watch. "There may be leftover from the cafeteria. I shall fetch some food from there."

"Oh yeah!"

"You're the demon, Barbatos!"

"Bring back at least a hundred dishes, please."

"We are quite famished, thank you very much, Barbatos."

Barbatos nodded and was about to close the door when Carina stopped him. "Tha-thank you so much, Barbatos." She had a shy smile, blushing cheek, fiddling with her fingers.

Barbatos stared at her, and gave his cold-butler smile. "Of course," He closed the door a bit hard in her face. Carina gasped, offended, and stomped her foot.

She looked over at the brothers. Now Mathieu was in the center of attention. The demons were asking Mathieu's opinion on how Mephistopheles found the warehouse.

"I-I-I mean," Mathieu stuttered, fixing his glasses. "Meph-Mephisto? Could've... found the spell? (Was it a spell) That mirrors are the hideaway (somehow), that-that's how he found it, right?"

Satan nodded. "Okay, but... How did he find the right spot where the mirror is?"

Mathieu shrugged. "I-I-I really don't know, why not, ask him?"

"Hah!" Belphegor exclaimed, startling Mathieu. Belphie's expression was bored as he leaned on his hand. "That guy has loose lips, but when it comes to this, he was very secretive,"

"Yeah, even to Lord Diavolo." Beel said. "It was very surprising,"

"What if it wasn't him?" The brothers stopped and turned to Lucifer, who stated his opinion. "I suspect that he was helped by another demon."

Satan scoffed. "Aha! Are you going to be suspicious of him every time he does something good for Diavolo?"

"What is that supposed to mean, Satan?"

"You know what I meant. You don't like that Mephisto solved this and not you."

"Actually," the brothers turned to the voice belongs to Carina. "Three days ago, I did see a particular demon walk into his office a day before Mephistopheles busted the warehouse."

"Huh?"

"What did she say?"

"Stupid Mammon, are you deaf now?"

"Hey!"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, pondering Carina's words. "Who is this demon?" he asked, almost commanding.

Carina looked surprised, hand over her mouth. "Lami, that new demon. I wanted to be her friend, so I followed her. That's when I saw her went into Mephistopheles's office." Carina gasped and changed her tone to dismissive. "Ah, but, this is just a theory, she could've just wanted to join the newspaper RAD, right?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. If the demon swamp wanted to join, Mephistopheles would never consider it. He wouldn't even let any lower demons step into his office. Lucifer turned to the second-born. "Mammon, you are in the same class as her, yes?"

Mammon looked sideways. "Uuuh, yeah?"

"Keep an eye on her."

"Huh? Why me?!"

"Idiot, you're in the same class as her." Lucifer exhaled. "It is best to keep an eye on new demons; we never know whether they are loyal to Lord Diavolo or not."

Mammon pout, grumbling under his breath. "I don't like her!"

"Huh? First week, and you already don't like her?" Asmo chuckled, eyes flirting. "Fufufu, what did she do, is it scandalous?

Mammon glared disgust at Asmo, then looked at Mathieu and Carina. Mammon slump down into his chair and whispering. "Because she is supposed to be the new demon, not her."

The brothers were quiet in the room. Mathieu could feel the change and remained still like a rock. Carina scrunched her eyebrow in confusion.

"Mammon." Leviathan leaned forward. "You know that we're still looking for her,"

"And we will not stop looking for her," Lucifer said the final word. The brothers humm agree. Leaving Mathieu and Carina out of the circle. One of them is very upset.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The moon is at its lowest peak as I walk back to my dorm room at ten pm. Ten!

"Urgh!!!" I grumble under my breath. That history teacher is so petty, putting me in detention for a week! A week! Petty demons! They're the worst kinds of creatures. I hate, hate, hate them!

My eyes spot a 666 leaf clover. The green color reminds me of Green Blops. If he were here, seeing me angry, he would've faced me, with his arms crossed and looking at me.

I sigh and begin my ritual. Take a deep breath and let go. I did it again.

When I was a child, I had my moments of tantrum. Even with a mind of an adult, you can still get mad like a child. I refused to eat anything the Blops gave me, which made Red so sad. I was violent with Yellow and Orange, I didn't see they were hurt. I was pushy and annoyed with Green and Purple. I rejected everything nice Pink gave me. Until it hit the limit when Blue was scolding me, I shouted at him that I hate him because he's a demon.

I remember Blue's face when I said that. He was shocked, really shocked. When I thought he was gonna punish me, his face got neutral, no smile, no scowl, nor glare, nothing. Instead, he turned his back away and ignored me. I was surprised but decided to ignore him too. It went on for a week, with all the six Blops following after Blue. They still gave me food, bath, and clothed me. But there were no kisses and hugs, the Blops wouldn't play with me, they wouldn’t talk with me. They just left me alone. On the seventh day of the week, I cried so loud, asking for forgiveness.

Of course, the Blops quickly forgave me. There were kisses and hugs and how awful it was for the Blops to hold back. Blue told that every Blop understands. The shout, the violence, and the hate towards demons are just anger I kept inside for Lucifer.

So I told the Blops everything. From the memory when I was a human, to be reborn as Lucifer’s daughter, and asking why am I put into this situation. There are so many humans in the world, and I was the one who isekai into an awful unfortunate character.

The Blops didn’t understand, but they still love me the same. In fact, they love me more than ever. So did I.

Green then taught me how to meditate, to control my anger, and not to bottle everything in me. The Blops told me to tell them everything that is in my heart. And I always did, and the Blops always comfort me.

I open my eyes, feeling a bit relieved. I decided to let the teacher have it my way. It doesn’t matter if I had a week detention. On weekends, I’ll be back in my cabin with my Blops, talking bad things about Miss Vile.

Ufufu. I’ve already imagined Pink and Yellow when we gossip.

I had a smile as I walked in the dorm building. I reached my room with a hum and placed my hand on the doorknob.

BANG!

"Hello, little demon~"

Someone grabbed my mouth and slammed me against the doors. My eyes widened as I recognized who it was. It was the same demon who walked me to my room on the first day. My body froze.

"Ahahah, it's so easy to munch little demons like yourself," the demon licked his lips with a twisted smile and lustful eyes. I shivered in fear, my mind went blank. "Already excited, heh? How about we do it in your room?"

His words snapped me out of my entrance, and I struggled. He strengthened his holds, nails digging into the skin of my shoulder. I scream under his palm.

"Stop struggling, you bitch!"

I panicked and grabbed his arm holding my mouth. Then I saw. A purple glow flashed before us.

“Argh! What is this??!”

He let me go. I felt power surging through from Mephisto’s mark on my wrist. Like an ocean wave, the surge power pushed the demon far away to the end of the hallway into a window that was suddenly open by itself, and he went flying.

I watched as he faded away. His scream became distand. I gasped for breath and went fumbling with my keys to open my bedroom door and crawled inside. I closed the door with my back. It took forever with my trembling fingers to lock the door, twice. Then, I screamed and cried on my knees. I didn't care if any demons heard me. Hell, they might have heard and wouldn't care a thing.

Thoughts flooded in of what could've happened. That demon was really going to molest me. I could've-

I felt my stomach churn, and I threw up on the floor. All the contents from my stomach was emptied. When it was over, I stared at the leftover food I had this evening. Then I cried and lay beside my own retch. I didn't care about the smell. I only wanted my trembling body to subside.

This was a reminder that I was still in hell.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The next morning arrived, and I felt terrible. I had a headache, stomach cramps, and was in a completely rock bottom mood. I really didn’t want to go to school, but I had to since it's still the first week. I couldn’t afford another bad rap with a teacher. In fact, they might use this to bully me. Mocking my background. I really had enough.

Fortunately, no demons were talking about last night. They might not even care or might be too busy discussing Mephistopheles' success and the exchange program. Lucky me.

All day, I kept my head down and stayed alert, hoping I wouldn't pass by that demon from last night. There’s no way he would let go of what happened. In fact, he must've planned something to torture me. Maybe giving me a cursed object? Hypnotizing me, drugging me—anything could happen!

I felt like throwing up again, but I held on with my hand over my mouth. I hadn't eaten anything this morning, but my stomach felt sick, like when you ride a roller coaster after eating.

Half the day had gone by, and it was lunchtime. I was walking in the hallway between students toward the cafeteria.

"Agh!" I felt my cape being pulled back. My foot almost lost its balance, and I looked over my shoulder, my body freezing.

"What are you doing?" Mammon asked with a smirk, as if he had caught me stealing a cookie jar.

"I... wha!" I yelped. Mammon pulled me forward by my red cape. "Hey!!!" I protested as I tried to keep my feet on the ground. Then I felt someone grab my arm.

“Mammon! Don’t pull her like that!” Carina protested, pulling me toward her. I leaned backward while Mammon still grabbed my cape. My posture probably looked stupid, as all the students were watching us.

“Argh! Shut up, human!” Mammon pulled my cape again.

I grabbed my cape, begging him. "Wh-what do you want from me?!"

Mammon frowned, looking at me as if I’m stupid. My heart twisted with fear. If Mammon had figured me out, this might be why he's bothering me right now – he's going to act all obsessed with me. My brain imagined all the possible ways this could go.

"Wait! Please, just," I stuttered, frantically looking around the hallway for an escape. "Please, let me go," I pleaded, holding back tears. Mammon tilted his head.

“Mammon, come on, don’t pull the poor little girl,” Carina said.

I glanced at her smiling at me. She reminds me of Kristin. Even in hell, she still tries to be nice to everyone. To a demon. I gulped down my throat. Both of us are poor, unfortunate souls. Doomed for a lifetime of torture from the demons here in Devildom. But unlike Carina, I’m going to survive. I’m going to survive from this dem-!

Mammon released my cape. I gasped as I was released. Mammon stared at us, hand on his hips. I took a deep breath and tried to think of an escape. If I ran, Mammon would catch me for sure.

"Let's go, I'm hungry!" Mammon exclaimed and walked away.

“Come on, Lami!” Carina still grabbing my arm, pulling me forward. My body is still completely stiff from the shock and I just followed. But, if there is a slight opening, I’ll run like hell.

#obey me shall we date #om #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me self insert #isekai #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mephistopheles #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #bornintotheseven'srulerofdevildom

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pleasestaywithmedarling · 4 months ago

Text

Sin of Purity, Purity of Sin: Part XXII

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see end note for content warning

Anden flinched as the final crack of the whip resounded through the chamber. He felt pathetic, clinging to Kiri like this; he had no reason to feel so horribly afraid as he did, not when he stood unbound and unharmed. The First Prince himself had voluntarily taken the lashes. Yet with every stanza of Prince Firon’s prayer, Anden felt his whole body tense with dreadful anticipation. An icy blast of terror would freeze his core just before each flick of Emitis’ wrist, and each time he instinctively braced himself to try to hold back his cries against the new explosion of pain. But the pain never came, and the cries he heard were not his own.

Kiri shouldn’t be here. It was bad enough that she’d always heard everything that happened during this ritual from her cell; he didn’t want her to have to see it with her own eyes. The prince’s back had been torn to mangled, bloody ribbons of flesh. In one place at his shoulder, a patch had been torn almost completely loose and now dangled there by a thread of skin. Anden didn’t look at Kiri—he couldn’t tear his eyes from the scene before him—but with each strike of the whip her hand spasmed in his, and by the seventh it shook ceaselessly. No, she should not be here to see this. But she was the only thing keeping Anden from mindlessly lashing out in this senseless fear that he could not seem to shake.

At last it was over. Prince Firon’s men swiftly helped him to his feet, and supported him as he slowly crossed the room to stand before Anden. The prince reached over his shoulder, grimacing at the pain, and his hand came back dripping red. Taking Anden’s hand, he swiped the back of it with a bloodied fingertip, and the ritual was complete. He gave a deep nod to Anden, just as he had to Kiri.

For a single breath, somewhere beneath the frigid layer of fear Anden’s anger suddenly flared hot. Who was this man, that he would come down from his life of luxury to play at suffering for one night? Did he expect gratitude for sparing Anden a single beating, before sitting back in two days to watch him and Kiri sink to their deaths?

But when Firon lifted his head, his dark eyes bore into Anden’s with such sorrowful intensity that Anden nearly took a step back. He felt strangely seen, though in what way he couldn’t have said. All he knew was that he had no idea what the hell was going on, and that worried him. His grip on Kiri’s hand tightened as his mind raced to try to make sense of the man standing before him. Before he could make any headway, though, the prince was being helped to lay down on one of the stone tables. As the healer priestess immediately set to work repairing the damage, Anden and Kiri were roughly separated and herded back to their cells. Emitis’ glare followed them, and Anden feared that the night hadn’t truly ended.

Voices drifted in from the outer chamber as the prince’s wounds were tended, but he couldn’t make out the words over the sound of his own heartbeat. Lately the night rituals had been leaving him so utterly spent, that afterward he’d soon slip into unconsciousness. That night, though, some base instinct within him refused to recognize that the immediate danger had passed—every muscle in his body still held taut with anticipation of the pain that had never come.

“Anden?”

He blinked. The voices were gone; he and Kiri were alone once more. She had curled herself tightly into the back corner of her cell, looking as small as he felt. It was only then that he realized he was still standing, rooted to the same spot where he’d watched the guards lock him in. He should be exhausted, he should be hurting—gods, he was always hurting—but he felt nothing beyond dread. Mechanically, he lowered himself onto his pallet. He tried to ignore how wrong it felt, sitting in the stillness of the chamber when all of his senses were screaming of danger.

“Are you—” Kiri started to reach for him. At the sight of her own hand, though, now bound tightly in that awful mitt, she quickly tucked it back out of sight beneath her legs. Drawing her knees even closer to her chest, she asked, “Are you alright?”

He swallowed hard. “Emitis’ll be back tonight.”

“Probably,” she agreed in a whisper.

“He’s fucking pissed.” The chilling truth of the statement, and everything it implied, froze him down to his core. Anden didn’t know why a prince would insist on sparing him that night’s flogging, but it hadn’t been much of a mercy to enrage the High Priest the way he had.

Anden squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the pain that his body was still certain would explode through him at any moment. Gods, he just wanted to get it over with.

“What can I do?” Kiri’s voice shook. “What can I do for you?”

Shame welled up thickly from his core, to know how weak he must look to her. She’d already been in such a fragile state even before witnessing the brutal effects of the barbed whip; he should be the one taking care of her. But he could scarcely feel the guilt beneath the fear that held him fast in its frosted grip. It was all he could do to cling to the sound of Kiri’s voice.

“Could you, uh—” He took in a shaking breath. “Could you sing for me?”

A moment passed, then another. Just when he began to wonder if he’d asked too much, a low, quavering note swept softly through the chamber. He quickly recognized the song as a favorite of hers, a gentle ballad in the Koric tongue. Slowly, slowly, he allowed the sloping melody to wash over him. As its ending carried over, looping back to begin over again, again, and again, he could feel the icy dread within him begin to thaw.

And then a loud creak rang out from the outer chamber.

It was a twisted relief, to finally have a source of danger there to match the fear that had been coursing through him all night. This, he could make sense of; what he could make sense of, he could manage. He opened his eyes at last, his mask of proud defiance already sliding into place.

Emitis strode into the inner chamber, his robes whirling out behind him. “How wonderful for you both, to have enjoyed the favor of His Highness the First Prince.” He smiled at each of them in turn, and Anden fought back a shudder. “I do hope that you have been making the most of this reprieve. You will need your rest. Tomorrow is Midsummer’s Eve, after all, and that means tomorrow night I must offer my own prayers to Vato as His chosen High Priest.”

Anden’s pulse quickened. One final night of torture, then—he could handle that. He could. He just wished he didn’t already know that this one would be so much worse.

“I have much to pray for,” Emitis continued, his gaze hardening. “This year more than most. Never in all of my years of service have I seen such willful, selfish rejection of the will of Vato. I expect such behavior from any Vessel of Sin.” He looked, sneering, down his nose at Anden. “After all, Vato selected you for this role precisely because of your own abject worthlessness. But you,” he said as he turned furiously to Kiri, “have been an absolute disgrace. You were supposed to be the very best the kingdom had to offer, a true and perfect sacrifice. But look at you. Multiple escape attempts, more lies than I can count, seducing a guard sworn to Vato’s service—”

“No,” Kiri whimpered, and the sound pierced straight through Anden’s heart.

“—only to kill him when he caved to your own temptations—”

“Fuck you,” Anden seethed, and Emitis’ eyes narrowed.

“—and you’ve shown more devotion to that contemptible piece of filth,” he spat out, pointing to Anden, “than to the just and mighty god to whom you once pledged your service.”

Kiri stared up at him, a strange glint to her cool brown eyes that Anden had never seen before. “If Vato is as you claim,” she said softly, “then Anden is far more worthy of my devotion than He ever was.”

For the smallest flicker of a moment, Anden was entirely transfixed by the subtle squaring of her shoulders and the quiet fierceness of her upturned chin.

She’d never looked more beautiful.

Then Emitis turned on his heel and stalked out of the inner chamber without a word, and the reality of what she’d just done made his stomach drop.

By the laws of not only the temple but the kingdom of Ilyrna, blasphemy against Vato could be punishable by death.

“Kiri—” he choked out.

She’d realized it, too. Tremors began to wrack through her body—even her hands, which she’d vigilantly kept hidden ever since they began binding them in those terrible leather mitts, were flapping at her sides. “I’m sorry,” she gasped out. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t—I shouldn’t have—”

She should have said nothing. She should have never loved him, she should have hated him, or he should have never loved her, he should have stuck to keeping her at arm’s length like he’d warned himself to back when he’d first met her in this awful nightmare—anything that might have prevented her from even thinking such an offense.

But even as his heart shattered at the sound of her sobs, a grim acceptance settled over him. What happened could not be undone. He loved her—gods, he loved her—and that she loved him in return was nothing short of miraculous. And he knew, as he had long known, that he would willingly go through all the ten hells for her.

He just hoped that he wasn’t about to watch her go through them alone.

“It’s okay,” he breathed. “It’s okay.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. But I—I meant it. I shouldn’t have said it, I’m sorry—I’m so sorry! But you have to know—you have to know that I meant it.”

His chest tightened painfully. “Kiri, I—”

“Not another word!” Emitis hissed as he swept back in through the open doorway. “If I had enough time to find a worthy Vessel to replace you, I would have you executed this instant! And I very well may decide to do it anyway if you don’t start doing exactly as you’re told.”

Anden should have been relieved. She would be punished—severely, he was sure—and he along with her. But she wouldn’t be killed. She wouldn’t be killed, they would both survive till Midsummer, and that was all that mattered. They would survive together, and they would escape. He should be relieved.

But gods, he could have lost her. His blood ran cold at the thought. For the second time in only two weeks, he could have lost her. And he wouldn’t have been able to do a gods-damned thing to stop it.

Not daring to make a sound, he could only watch helplessly as Emitis unlocked the door to Kiri’s cell. “Stand,” he ordered, and once she’d scrambled to her feet he held up a small object—Anden could only see that it lay nearly flat in his palm and gleamed metallic. The High Priest flicked open the lid of a tiny jar, and a sharp, unnatural odor instantly filled the chamber. After pouring its contents in a curving line around the edge of the metal, he carefully flipped it over and did the same to the other side. “Open your mouth.”

With only a small whimper, Kiri complied. Anden’s jaw clenched reflexively as the plate was pushed entirely inside her mouth. She jerked her head back with a hideous retch, but Emitis merely backed her against the wall to pin her in place. He shoved two fingers between her teeth and adjusted the monstrous bit, and when he was satisfied with its placement he commanded, “Bite down."

Though she whined as he tilted her head back, she held perfectly still as he held the jar over her mouth, pulling at her bottom lip and pouring a thin line across it. “Close. Now hold that, while our Vessel of Sin counts for us.” He turned to Anden. “Three hundred. Slowly.”

Anden swallowed hard, and began counting. By seventy-eight, Kiri’s breathing had grown even more panicked, her nostrils flaring wide with each quick inhale. By one hundred ninety-four, her bound fists were tapping an erratic rhythm at the wall behind her. By two hundred sixty, her eyes had widened in alarm as a high-pitched, wailing hum was torn from her with each exhale. But she did not dare open her mouth. And Anden did not dare stop counting.

“Three hundred,” he choked out at last, and the words tasted like ash.

Emitis took her by the jaw, probing at her lips and all along her cheeks. “Now open,” he commanded, but Kiri only whined. Then suddenly he struck her across the face and she fell against her cell bars with a hummed shriek. Anden lunged at his own bars, gripping tight to them as he swallowed back his outraged cry. Kiri was fully sobbing, but aside from a slight quiver of her lips her mouth remained solidly, horrifically shut.

Satisfied, Emitis stepped out of her cell and locked her in once more. “I shall think of a suitable punishment for you both tomorrow, but in the meantime I will rest well knowing you have spoken your final blasphemy.” Anden watched as Kiri slid down the length of the bars to curl into a ball on the floor, her muffled cries growing hysterical. How was this cruelty not already punishment enough? But he bit back his fury as Emitis exited the chamber.

As soon as they were alone, Anden forced his grip on his bars to relax, only to realize his hands were shaking. His whole body was shaking, a cold fear quaking through him violently. All sense drained from him, until the one thing he knew that he had to be with Kiri.

He hastened to crawl across the floor of his cell and pry up the loose floorboard. Key in hand, he knelt by his door and thrust an arm up between the bars, and after several minutes of fumbling the door swung open and he fell sprawling into the narrow hallway. Scrambling across it to Kiri, he reached through her cell bars and took her face in his hands, seeking to comfort himself just as much as her. He ached to reassure himself that she was real, that they were both still there together, alive if nothing else.

She did not meet his gaze, but she leaned into his touch as he clumsily brushed her tears away and murmured nonsensical apologies and assurances. Between her lips he could see the crusted white line of whatever had been in that jar, keeping them fused together—he shuddered, knowing that her teeth must be similarly soldered to that small metal plate cleaving her mouth in two. He tried not to think about the fact that he had no idea how they were going to remove the strange white substance, or dissolve it or whatever the hell they would need to do to keep her from dying of thirst in three days.

Tearing his eyes from her mouth, he took her hand and made quick work of unbuckling the leather pouch that encased it. The moment it was free her hand flew to her mouth, pulling at it desperately even as she let out a strangled, pained yelp.

“Don't,” he admonished, as gently as he could manage while fighting back his own panic. He pulled her free hand through the bars and pressed it against his chest. “Just breathe, okay?” She nodded shakily, fisting his tunic like it was a lifeline while he worked to free her other hand. As soon as he was done, they both reached for each other in a tangle of hands and arms and iron bars, desperately clinging to whatever part of one another they could reach.

Kiri was still crying, and still would not look him in the eye. Again and again he told her that she’d done nothing wrong, that they would be okay. He was angry with her—gods, was he angry that she’d let herself talk back like that, about Vato no less. And why, because Emitis had scolded her? Because he’d said Anden was filth? Nothing could be worth her saying something as dangerous as she had—Anden knew he wasn’t worth it, certainly. But that was the last thing she needed to hear just then, and all that really mattered was that they were both alive. He certainly had no room to lecture her, anyway, not after the dozens of beatings he’d earned with his own ill-tempered tongue.

And far stronger than his anger was the icy terror that encased his lungs, so tight and cold that he didn’t know how he was breathing. He could barely hold himself up, could barely think straight. All he could seem to do was hold on to the woman he loved, to the small semblance of safety her touch brought.

What the hell was wrong with him? The First Prince had been tortured, Kiri’d had her mouth sealed shut—all night, Anden had simply stood by and watched as others were tormented. Nothing had happened to him, so what right did he have to fall apart?

He shifted to sit with his back to the wall, his right side pressed up against Kiri’s bars. Gently pulling her to sit beside him, he eased one arm through and slipped it around her shoulders. “You should sleep, if you can,” he offered, and at her hum of protest he insisted, “I’ll go back soon, I promise.” For a long moment it seemed she would not relent, and it was on the tip of his tongue to admit the truth: that he was at her side not for her sake but for his own. That for reasons he didn’t understand, didn’t want to understand, he was too damned scared to be alone just then.

Gods, he was so fucking scared.

But just before he resorted to such a shameful confession, she nestled into his arm, reaching to clasp his other hand in her own. For as far into the night as he dared, he watched over her as a fitful sleep claimed her. He held fast to her hands whenever she reached to claw at her mouth, and murmured soft promises he didn’t know if he could fulfill whenever her soft whines threatened to grow into screams.

He told himself he was there because she was so terrified, until he almost believed it.

Okay I know I've said this for past, like, three chapters? But we really are getting close to Midsummer! I think!

tag list: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @little-peril-stories @monarchthefirst

@emmettland @whumplr-reader @scoundrelwithboba

Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

content warning: captivity, religious abuse, restraints, torture, flogging, mention of attempted sexual assault

#whump #whumpblr #whump fic #whump writing #captivity whump #fantasy whump #religious whump #multiple whumpees

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chussyracing · 3 months ago

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Last lap commentary of Monza GP 2024 by Števo Eisele, Josef Král and Pavel Fabry:

the whole english translation inspired by @sedicii is under the cut!

ŠE: We’re in the last lap, friends. Charles Leclerc in a Ferrari, again it reminds me after the amazing but truly unbelievable win in Monaco, when he overcame a huge curse, a jump into the sea followed. I have no idea what kind of surprise they could prepare here in Monza, if he doesn’t jump into the crowd, because on the finish line straight, I already see the huge Ferrari heart, the huge fan signs. Charles Leclerc experienced this here in 2019 season, it was his second career win. And in this moment Charles Leclerc is already in Ascari Chicane and he is aiming for seventh career triumph. Tifosi can feel it, friends, there is only one last turn in front of Charles Leclerc, who is heading for – dare I say – surprising triump on home soil. Almost unblievable stuff and in a moment it will be reality, the Monegasque Prince is conquering Monza. Italian Monza was a witness of a magical performance.

ŠE: McLaren absolutely and totally messed up, Piastri and Norris will have sour faces on the podium but all the attention and ovations will be dedicated to this man, Charles Leclerc wins second Grand Prix in 2024 season, after Monaco, it is the second sweetest victory on home soil and tifosi clap, marvel and it will surely come to tears of joy as well. I am looking at Pepa [Josef Král, also a Ferrari driver].

JK: (laughter) The tear almost slipped off but hats off to Charles because this was legitimately his race, his achievement, what he showed – and i reminded that many times – that we need to wait till the end of the race, that Ferrari might go for this surprising strategy and they can take it away from everybody, but really hats off to Charles at how he managed to drive it to the end. When we see the stands, I think they will all be gone. He made no mistake and he stole it from anyone else.

ŠE: And especially from McLaren. That will be one hell of a debriefing when they analyse this Grand Prix. How they threw away another win, I don’t know what number this year.

[Charles and Bryan and Fred team radio]

PF: No need to translate, right?

ŠE: Not that we know Italian.

JK: Charles thanked everyone, the whole team for conquering Monza, so he‘s absolutely delighted, of course that the upgrades worked, that’s an amazing work of the whole team.

PF: Didn’t Bedenetto Vigna speak for a while there, gratulating Leclerc on the radio?

ŠE: For sure there was Fred Vasseur.

PF: Uh huh.

ŠE: He congratulated Charles Leclerc even for the triumph in Monaco. Leclerc thanked the team in Maranello for the upgrade which worked fantastically. And it is a good message for the rest of the season, friends. Again we were saying that McLaren has it in the bag, all chill, but the nerves will be there. Piastri looked all set for the triumph, but they used what? Papaya rules and those led them from front row lock out to p2 and p3 today.

ŠE: Charles Leclerc, on totally destroyed 38 laps old hards brought once again the joy and love to Ferrari to Monza, to a circuit where in the last 15 years, Ferrari got only two triumphs and that is just Leclerc today and in 2019.

[Charles radio]

PF: And the appreciation of the strategy and how the car worked today very strong, grazie, grazie, grazie.

JK: I really like when you don’t have the car to be winning titles, you win Monaco and Monza.

ŠE: Not too bad.

JK: Not too bad, exactly. Maybe that was the strategy Leclerc appreaciated? No, of course he meant today’s strategy.

ŠE: But last week Alonso in an Aston said that in the nearest GPs, we will have to keep an eye out on Ferrari and we looked at each other like „what does he know again that we don’t“ and her eis reality, because I would like to stress this, Ferrari today won thanks to its speed, strategy and a fantastic driver, no safety car, no weather, no luck, Leclerc achieves another fantastic, fabulous triumph, he is defeating an almost undefeatable McLaren!

ŠE: In a special overall, race suit, with a special livery and carbon number sixteen.

[mechanics chant „un capitano“ at Charles]

ŠE: Charles has a nickname captain too? That’s not a very popular nickname in Slovakia [political joke]. Leclerc is receiving congratulations, from his brother as well of course.

ŠE: All weekend, he had to answer questions „what about next season? what about Lewis Hamilton?“ but this is how you get fans, this i show you get trust in your own team and look at [McLaren] at the sour faces. Well, thanks, guys.

PF: Well, today, papaya is just a faint shade of red.

#e #comms #monza 2024

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marine-indie-gal · 15 hours ago

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The Sandy Cheeks Movie was such a Wasted Potential of a Disappointment, I knew that after seeing sooo many Critical Reviews of its Recent 4th Movie, it failed to become my Guilty Pleasure as it's defiantly My Least Favorite SpongeBob Movie out of the Films (even if we're getting a New Lore of the Cheeks Family with Redesigns like with Patrick).

Although while I do have mixed feelings on the Family Members getting Redesigned everytime a New Episodic Story shows up, I'm always open for closest inspiration for Fan Redesigning in the Near Future.

Anyway, since The Sandy Cheeks Movie was such a waste for Me (which I feel bad for one of the Characters for getting their own Spinoff after Patrick's), I'd figure why not draw something of a Twist based on SpongeBob's Recent Fairytale Adaptations in its Fairytale Anthology where if their Genderbend Snow White take had its own Prince (or should I say, "Princess" since Sponge is Snow White) if they were to replace the Seventh Dwarf Jellyfish with Somebody Else.

Ngl, I was kinda disappointed that their Snow White adaptation didn't feature the Love Interest type (since the Franchise's version is a lot better than whatever the Hell the Garbage Disney Remake will be), so I twist and turn Sandy into the Prince archetype (inspired by Classic Disney's Version, Florian). While I personally loved their Snow White retelling, I think it could've been Another Spandy episode.

SpongeBob SquarePants (c) Stephen Hillenburg & Nickelodeon

Snow White (c) Brothers Grimm

#spongebob squarepants #spongebob #spongebob fanart #spongebob squarepants fanart #spandy #sandy cheeks #sandy spongebob #spongebob sandy #sandy cheeks spongebob #spongebob sandy cheeks #spongebob x sandy #sandy x spongebob #snow white #snow white and the seven dwarfs #fairy tale #brothers grimm #grimm fairy tales #snow yellow and the seven jellies #snow yellow

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swallowedbyfandom · 10 days ago

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Anthony,

How do you know if your wife is merely being overcome with pregnancy hormones or being possessed by a literal demon? I am asking for a friend. Please don't send the church to my home.

Inquiring,

Col

Brother,

Your humor leaves much to be desired. I can assure you Penelope is not possessed. She is currently behaving no differently than before. At most I have noticed her patience for stupidity is greatly diminished. However her last speech for Parliament was so chastising Prince George actually blushed and everyone was too ashamed to vote against my bill. So, I consider her limited patience a win. Our seventh in a row, if you were not keeping count.

Winningly,

Ant

Anthony,

This is not a jest. I am being serious! My calm, loving, glorious wife is behaving like the unholy cross of a succubus and a wrath demon. Here is a list of what I have noticed so far.

-My wife no longer makes sweet tender love to me. She uses me like I am some two pence back alley whore. She will not even cuddle me after! She demands we bathe immediately as the smell of my sweat is most offensive to her.

-The food combinations she consumes are horrifying.I am forced to endurecrimes against food so ghastly, they could only have been thought up in some hell dimension. Ant, she topped her chocolate cake with picked onions and ate her venison coated in marzipan! She dipped her biscuits in gravy! I cannot even stomach looking at some of the things she has the cook put together long enough to identify what they are supposed to be.

-She tried to stab me with at fork when I reached for the last butter biscuit. She didn't even look remorseful about it! She claimed I was trying to starve her baby. She ranted for over 30 minutes about my cruelty in putting another one of my "gigantic babes" in her belly, only to try and stunt that babes growth by starving it.

-She is terrifying. I cannot emphasize enough how scary her temper is. She made one of the midwives quit by calling her an "oppressive cunt."

-When I kiss her sometimes my lips will tingle and burn for minutes after. Not a sexy tingle and burn but a lips on fire sensation.

-I tried to gently wake her from a nap and she growled at me then throw a book at my head.I just wanted her to enjoy the gardens with me while the sun was shining!

So you see I have reasons to be concerned. She did not undergo so severe a change when she was carrying the twins. Aside from nausea, forgetfulness, and exhaustion she was the picture of serenity. While her last two months involved a great deal of tears, that was due to her frustration and discomfort.

Her personality has been so greatly affected by this pregnancy. What am I to think? Either she is possessed or she is carrying the Antichrist. What other explanation can there be?

Living in fear,

Colin

Brother,

Every pregnancy is different and affects the mother differently. Kate was an absolute terror when she carried Edmund and she was only slightly calmer when she carried Miles. What you are experiencing is normal. You just got lucky with the twins. Please allow to alleviate of your concerns.

-If your feelings are hurt that your wife is not whispering poetry while you are both abed, tell her. If you and your wife are in love not matter how vigorous your relations are is still considered lovemaking. Do you think I love my wife any less when we sneak off for a quick and rough tumble? Of course not! Would you rather she lay there like some dull placid society chit? Pregnancy makes most women particularly insatiable, her wanting to couple frequently is not her treating you like a back alley whore.

-I have fenced with you on many a hot summer day. I hate to reiterate this, but you do get quite ripe brother. Extra caution with your hygiene after lovemaking is a small price to pay to have the women you love carry your child. Does she cuddle you after bathing? Is so stop whining. If not, ask her to hold you. You know pregnancy makes a ladies sense of smell more sensitive it was stated no less that twelve time in that book.

-Colin, you have often turned my stomach with your table manners and the sheer volume I have seen you devour. You have no room to judge anyone, especially not the woman graciously carrying my next nibling. If the meals she eats offends you, don't look at them. The fact that she is willing to eat anything right now is just proof that she is carrying your replica.

-You have stabbed Daphne and Gregory at least once that I know of. You actually managed to stab Benedict twice with a fork over food. I recall you trying to bite Eloise once in a battle over imported macaroons. So Penelope stabbing you with a fork over biscuits just proves paternity. I would stand before the King and testify to this. There was never any doubt but if there was this would negated it.

-Penelope has always been terrifying. You were just too stupid and lovestruck to notice. You do not need to worry about it overly much. This is not a new development. Congratulations, you are finally wise enough to be wary. If she felt so offended she called the midwife an oppressive Cunt, I am sure she deserved it. Get a better midwife. Penelope is not one to lash out with reason.

-Your lips are on fire because Penelope has been eating sweets from Indian Kate gave her. They contain an insane amount of Capsaicin.

-Never wake a pregnant woman. If you must be prepared to dodge. Kate threw an oil lamp at my face the one I accidentally woke her. Daphne threw a plate when Simon interrupted her nap time.

For shame brother, your wife is not possessed. Your child is not the Antichrist. Penelope seems perfectly normal to the family and I. You are mentally unwell. You should definitely fix that.

In conclusion, you are just suffering from cuddle withdrawal. Symptoms include: hysteria, depression, and whining.

Your wisest brother,

Ant

#bridgerton #unhinged bridgertons #anthony bridgerton #unhinged colin bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgertons being bridgertons

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