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a-d-nox · 6 months ago

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how can you glow up: your 1h - your look

to work off my recent post about glow ups. today i will be taking a closer look at 1h themes regarding glowing up.

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1h aries (1°, 13°, 25°), 1h mars, and/or mars aspecting asc

style

embrace boldness: strong, eye-catching styles. opt for tailored cuts, statement pieces, and/or vibrant colors like red, black, and/or deep maroon.

minimalist edge: minimalist outfits with sharp, clean lines work well. think structured blazers, fitted jeans, and sleek dresses.

athletic influences: bomber jackets, chunky sneakers, or athleisure pieces that combine comfort and power/strength.

statement accessories: leather belts, combat boots, and/or metallic jewelry.

beauty

defined features: use makeup to emphasize strong features, like sculpted cheekbones (contouring), bold brows, and/or a fierce cat-eye.

bold lip colors: reds and deep tones are perfect for making a statement.

effortless hair: low-maintenance but striking styles suit these people. try tousled waves, a slicked-back ponytail, and/or a pixie cut.

skincare for vibrancy: redness or sensitivity are common for this placement. incorporate calming, anti-inflammatory products (aloe vera, green tea, etc) while also enhancing your natural glow with gentle exfoliation.

body language & presence

command attention: walk with purpose and exude confidence in every movement.

strong posture: your body should radiates strength, so maintain good posture and carry yourself with self-assuredness.

active energy: use expressive gestures and/or physical activity to channel your energy into dynamic actions that captivate others.

mindset mantras

“my energy is magnetic."

"i am unstoppable.”

“i glow when i embrace my strength.”

1h gemini (3°, 15°, 27°), 1h mercury, and/or mercury aspecting asc

style

play with versatility: you are adaptable, so lean into styles that allow you to switch things up easily. opt for pieces that can be layered, mixed and matched, or dressed up or down. modular wardrobes and quirky accessories can also keep things fresh.

focus on youthful, playful vibes: embrace fun patterns, bright colors, or playful silhouettes. think cropped tops (careful if you in corporate - office sirens are a tiktok thing they not real lol), sneakers, and relaxed tailoring.

highlight the hands and arms: gemini rules the hands and arms, so accessories like rings, bracelets, and polished manicures draw attention to you. potentially experiment with finger tattoos (i would say only if mercury beneficially aspecting mars and pluto), colorful nail art, or layered bangles.

embrace intellectual elegance: incorporate "smart", polished touches, like well-fitted blazers, statement glasses, or minimalist yet clever jewelry.

beauty

fresh-faced makeup: aim for light, natural-looking makeup that emphasizes radiance. think glossy lips, dewy skin, and fluttery lashes. experiment with subtle eyeliner or shadow to create a playful but polished eye look.

experiment with hairstyles: don’t be afraid to try new cuts or colors. bangs, layers, or multidimensional highlights could add to your playful energy. accessories like barrettes, headbands, and/or clips can reflect your quick-changing vibe.

skin-care for a luminous look: focus on lightweight, hydrating products that enhance your natural glow without feeling heavy.

body language & presence

curiosity: you should aim for being naturally inquisitive and engaging. a warm smile (ugh hate telling people to smile more) and attentive posture amplify your charm.

express with your hands: use gestures when speaking to showcase your animated and captivating energy.

keep your energy light and flexible: you come alive in conversations and movement, so let your personality shine in how you interact with others.

mindset mantras

“i am curious and adaptable.”

“my versatility is my superpower.”

“my playfulness enhances my every look.”

1h libra (7°, 19°), 1h venus, and/or venus aspecting asc

style

classic elegance: timeless, sophisticated looks. aim for chic silhouettes, neutral tones, and soft fabrics like silk or cashmere. tailored blazers, flowy dresses, or polished trousers.

balance in outfits: libra thrives on symmetry and balance. counter balance proportions (i typically do fitted top with wide-leg pants as someone with this placement) and pair bold elements with subtle ones.

romantic details: incorporate feminine, romantic touches like lace, ruffles, and/or floral patterns. accessories like pearl earrings (my fav).

matching color theory / finding flattering colors: usually these people are in a soft palette. so pastels and harmonious shades like blush pink, light blue, or cream highlight your natural beauty.

stylish accessories: beauty is in the details. think statement jewelry, a chic handbag, or elegant shoes can complete your look.

beauty

glowing skin: prioritize your complexion via hydrating skincare. face mists, illuminating primers, and natural highlighters can give you that venusian glow.

perfecting your brow shape: symmetrical beauty is a libra venus and rising thing, so well-groomed, balanced brows enhance your natural beauty.

soft makeup: opt for soft, romantic looks: rosy blush, nude or pink lips, and neutral eyeshadow. slight winged eyeliner adds a touch of drama without being overpowering.

the art of hair: best suited in polished hairstyles. consider sleek ponytails, loose waves, or elegant buns. highlights or balayage in warm, subtle tones can add to your perceived sophistication.

body language & presence

charm: smile often (i hate when people tell me that) and project warmth. libra risings have a natural charisma that attracts others.

posture: a graceful, upright posture enhances your air of elegance. yoga or pilates can help develop this poise.

be approachable: your energy is diplomatic and magnetic, so lean into your ability to create harmony in social interactions.

mindset mantras

“i am the embodiment of beauty and grace."

“my elegance is effortless.”

“harmony begins within, and it radiates out.”

1h sagittarius (9°, 21°), 1h jupiter, and/or jupiter aspecting asc

style

go bold: embrace bold colors and lively patterns that reflect an adventurous spirit. flowing, luxurious fabrics like satin or silk mirror the abundance you bring.

elevate with elegance: invest in quality over quantity. timeless pieces, like tailored blazers or elegant dresses, will amplify your glow.

cultural inspiration: styles inspired by travel or cultural motifs (like patterns, jewelry, or textiles) resonate beautifully with this aspect. of course in a non-appropriative manner .

comfort is key: ensure your wardrobe blends style with comfort. think soft, flowing cuts or boho-chic aesthetics.

beauty

radiant skin: focus on achieving a healthy, radiant glow through skincare. hydration and nourishing products are essential.

bright and open makeup looks: go for makeup that enhances your natural warmth. think luminous foundation, bronzer for a sun-kissed look, and golden highlighter work well.

hair with movement: jupiter’s energy loves freedom, so hairstyles that are loose, flowing, or natural-looking (like waves or curls) suit you best.

body language & presence

confident posture: you have a natural charisma. stand tall and own your space to project confidence effortlessly.

engaging smile: let your smile be your signature. a genuine smile enhances your approachable energy.

generous energy: exude warmth by being present and enthusiastic when engaging with others.

mindset mantras

“my positivity is my greatest glow.”

“i radiate abundance and confidence.”

“growth and self-love are the foundations of my beauty.”

1h pisces (12°, 24°), 1h neptune, and/or neptune aspecting asc

style

dreamy, flowing silhouettes: soft, fluid clothing. opt for dresses, skirts, or tops with flowing, romantic designs. sheer or satin fabrics amplify this vibe.

whimsical details: lace, embroidery, or shimmery accents add a touch of magic to your look. layering pieces like shawls or cardigans can evoke a dreamy, layered aesthetic.

soft colors: pastel shades, muted tones, or oceanic hues like lavender, pale blue, seafoam green, and silver.

beauty

luminous skin: enhance a natural glow. use hydrating skincare and dewy makeup products, like liquid highlighters or illuminating primers.

soft, diffused makeup: focus on dreamy, blended looks. think soft, smoky eyes, blush with a watercolor effect, and sheer lip glosses.

hair with flow: loose waves, soft curls, or tousled styles. hair accessories, like pearl clips or headbands, add a whimsical touch.

body language & presence

graceful movements: move with calmness and fluidity. practices like yoga or dance can enhance your poise.

mystical energy: lean into your mysterious vibe by being introspective and allowing your presence to speak louder than words.

soft gaze: your eyes are likely a standout feature. enhance your connection with others through warm, soulful eye contact.

mindset mantra

"i radiate beauty and grace effortlessly.”

"my creativity is my greatest assets.”

“i glow when i align with my inner magic."

1h ruler in the 4h

style

comfort meets elegance: blend cozy and chic. think knitwear, flowy fabrics, and soft layers that make you feel at ease yet polished. fabrics like cotton, linen, and cashmere resonate with the homey yet refined vibe they should aim for.

heritage-inspired looks: incorporate cultural or familial influences into your style, like heirloom jewelry, vintage pieces, and/or traditional patterns.

neutral/earthy tones: soft, calming colors like beige, cream, sage green, or light blues create a harmonious, approachable aesthetic.

classic, timeless staples: opt for timeless pieces that feel like a second skin, like well-fitted jeans, crisp shirts, and/or a versatile trench coat.

beauty

natural glow: emphasize a fresh, radiant complexion. focus on nourishing skincare and light, dewy makeup that enhances your natural features.

relaxed hair styles: loose waves, soft braids, and/or simple updos work well; they reflect their easygoing, comforting energy.

soothing beauty rituals: prioritize self-care routines at home, like face masks, at home manicures, or aromatherapy.

body language & presence

grounded confidence: project a calm, steady presence that reflects your inner security.

emotional connection: share your personal story or background when appropriate - it can make your presence more relatable and magnetic.

warm, inviting energy: your glow-up is amplified when you make others feel at home around you.

mindset mantras

“my glow begins from within.”

“i balance comfort and beauty effortlessly.”

“when i feel at home in myself, my light shines everywhere.”

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return to nox’s guide to metaphysics

return to nox's hypotheses

#astrology #astro community #astro placements #astro chart #natal chart #astrology tumblr #persona chart #astro notes #astrology chart #astrology readings #astrology signs #astro #astro observations #astroblr #venus persona #venus persona chart

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arisoracle · 1 month ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚♡ PICK A PILE: characteristics of your future spouse

take a moment and focus on one of the three images, whichever one you are drawn to, choose it. down below will be the details of each image left to right respectively.

❦ image 1, the mentor: you’re going to meet this person in some kind of mentoring setting. they could be a coworker who is very experienced in their field, or someone a little bit older than you and more knowledgeable in certain aspects in life and may guide you a lot. this person is also very romantic, they may show their love through love letters and writings. you’ll get random messages from them throughout the day, and they will be thoughtful ones like “i appreciate the way you do xx for me.” this individual very much so says what’s on their mind and isn’t afraid to express it, def not the nonchalant type. even in many years of your marriage i feel like this person will keep the spark alive between you two through romantic spontaneous dates, and more. people will see you guys are in love many years down the line. this person is someone who enjoys going out and having a good time, and may be on the extroverted type im getting ENFJ vibes from this. this person also notices small details about yourself, what you like and dislike and will use it to their advantage too. like if you get in an argument, they may do something or bring something you really like to make up for it because they’re very observant.

❦ image 2, the lover: this person lives for love and loves love. they may come into the connection a bit inexperienced when it comes to romance or have a very innocent and lighthearted view when it comes to love. but they love very deeply, and are extremely romantic sometimes to the point where you feel like they may use their connections and romance as an escape from the mundane things in their life. this person is someone who will be very passionate and a bit possessive over you because they may feel like they’ve never been in this kind of connection before, and their passion will be very seen and shown. it’s giving scorpio vibes. the only issue is, they may have such an idealized version when it comes to love that when issues arise they may not know how to deal with it and get a bit on edge. this is something which can be dealt with as well. they are someone who will be very attracted to you and bring it up a lot towards you and you’ll be very drawn and engaged to them physically on many levels. i feel like this person is really poetic too, and sweet with their words. they may like be really good at calming you before going to bed, because you may feel very comfortable and peaceful in their energy.

❦ image 3, the monk: this person has a really serious and old soul. similar to pile 1, they may be someone who is older than you and they take their spirituality really seriously. in life, they may have gone through things and many experiences in life and will help you guide and navigate serious situations. they are someone who will give you a lot of serious advice on matters, and this person is loyal to the T. they could have serious capricorn/ virgo in their chart. they are someone who has a strong involvement to giving to people in their community and they will also be very giving towards you and make sure you are very taken care of with your health and everything else. im kind of getting the vibe that whatever you want this person will give it to you, and will be very particular on your health and doctors appointments. the only thing is this person is not very good with expressing their feelings and love through words, but will rather do it through acts of service and time spent. this person is quite traditional as well when it comes to marriage, and prefer a specific structure and routine in their life. but any issue you may have in your life this person is really smart and will help you fix basically anything. i also am getting they are really admired amongst everyone in their community, and well respected.

#future spouse #tarot community #tarot #tarot reading #tarotreading #free tarot #divination #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a photo #future spouse reading #tarot readings #tarotcommunity #tarotblr

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drarry-soulmates · 6 months ago

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Thoughts on drarry

I didn’t like Draco before reading the books. In the movies, they just portrayed him as a bully so I didn’t care for him. In the books he def hits different. :‘V

I mean, he’s still a “bully” in the sense that he messes with Harry, but he’s not actually bullying Harry. He picks on Harry, in the same way you’d mess with your crush, and Harry can more than hold his own. Harry even scares him:

“Missing your half-breed pal?” he kept whispering to Harry whenever there was a teacher around, so that he was safe from Harry’s retaliation.

So… he was scared but so gay, he couldn’t resist becos this is literally the only way he could keep Harry in his life. x’D Imagine being afraid of your crush’s wrath but you just.. can’t help it lol >///<

And literally picking on Harry is the only way he can continue to talk to Harry because after the rejected handshake (and being in different Houses), Draco is too prideful to grovel for friendship. Harry basically condemned their relationship to schoolyard 'enemies’ who will risk their lives again and again for each other. Who’s mutual obsession becomes so obvious that everyone just knows that they look out for each other, despite outwardly acting like they hate each other. When other characters can see it, you know it’s real.

Despite being schoolyard 'enemies’, Harry absolutely falls for Draco so hard. Harry can’t ever stop staring at Draco no matter what Draco is doing (whether he’s acting suspiciously or just eating his lunch), and Draco likewise cannot stop watching him. Draco can’t stop talking about Harry either, in the same way when you have a crush, you can’t stop talking about that person. When i have a crush, i am talking about them literally nonstop. Every little thing your crush does is absolutely fascinating. That is Draco with Harry. Draco’s dad had to tell him to shut up about Harry LMAO. Draco not realizing how obvious he is being:

“… everyone thinks he’s so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick �� ”

“You have told me this at least a dozen times already,” said Mr. Malfoy, with a quelling look at his son.

Like, bruh, just pls STFU XD it’s no wonder Voldemort became suspicious of his feelings for Harry:

"He did not come and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has decided to befriend Harry Potter?”

lmaoo.

And of course how Narcissa just assumed that Harry, a kid who she must’ve known wasn’t exactly friends with her son (them being on opposite sides of the war) would know or care to take notes about the whereabouts of her son in the middle of a goddamn war:

“Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?”

The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from his ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded his face from the onlookers.

“Yes,” he breathed back.

And of course she was right. Harry did know. In fact, both of them had just finished saving each others’ lives.

Yep.

Harry saved the life of a Death Eater. In the middle of the war. Against Voldemort.

At a time when the less Death Eaters there were, the better. Even Ron had thought Harry was being ludicrous for going back in the fiendfyre that Draco’s friend started in an attempt to kill them:

“It’s — too — dangerous — !” Ron yelled, but Harry wheeled in the air. “IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I’LL KILL YOU, HARRY!” roared Ron’s voice.

Harry risked his FRIENDS’ LIVES.

For Draco.

Draco, who had at this point, openly admitted to being a Death Eater. Draco, his supposed sworn enemy in school and outside of it.

Harry could care less about Goyle or Blaise, he was all about saving Draco. Harry didn’t even notice that Crabbe was long gone at this point LOL.

And right before the fire, Draco did the same for him. After Draco confronted Harry instead of surprise attacking him (knowing full well that Harry is too formidable in an open confrontation), Draco refused to let his friends hurt him as Crabbe was about to unleash a non-killing hex:

STOP!” Malfoy shouted at Crabbe, his voice echoing through the enormous room. “The Dark Lord wants him alive —” “So? I’m not killing him, am I?”

And then: “Don’t kill him! DON’T KILL HIM!” Malfoy yelled…

Draco NEVER yells. Ever. He is always so calm and collected (when he’s not obsessing over Harry). So this is honestly incredible to me that he is yelling….. He is straight-up panicking because his friends might hurt Harry.

And then of course in Malfoy Manor, even at great risk to himself and his family, he doesn’t reveal Harry’s identity. When asked if Harry was in fact Harry Potter:

“I don’t know,” he said…

Although he has no problem giving away Hermione or Ron’s identity.

Look, Draco, isn’t it the Granger girl?” “I … maybe … yeah.” “But then, that’s the Weasley boy!” shouted Lucius, striding around the bound prisoners to face Ron. “It’s them, Potter’s friends — Draco, look at him, isn’t it Arthur Weasley’s son, what’s his name — ?” “Yeah,” said Draco again, his back to the prisoners. “It could be.”

Draco had never been just another Death Eater to Harry. Draco was someone Harry had grown to fall slowly in love with over the years, despite their animosity. And Draco, for his sake, had fallen so hard for Harry, THE sworn enemy of Voldemort.

In the books, he and Harry are obviously hopelessly in love with each other. Countless passages showcase their obsession, including Harry’s constant thinking about Draco’s looks, like his eyes or his hair, or his smirks (Draco’s version of winking). Harry doesn’t think about anyone’s eyes as often as he does Draco’s (Ginny’s eyes we only know are brown.. What shade? idk, DRACO’S EYES HOWEVER). He knows Draco so well, which is shocking because they’re not even friends or in the same House. He knows Draco better than he knows all of his actual friends, except for Ron & Hermione.

He can read Draco so well, even though Draco is a pro at Occlumency because he had learned from a young age to shut down his emotions and present a cold, strong exterior. This again, goes back to his pridefulness due to his rough upbringing under Lucius. But Harry can see through that. And Harry is likely one of the very few that can. (On a side note, Tom Felton said that if Draco had been raised by Hagrid, he would’ve turned out much differently, even been perhaps a hugger. lol.)

Draco’s obsession, then, is even more incredible when you consider that he is actually really good at hiding how he feels. But with Harry, he just cannot for the life of him, hide it. You can’t help who you love, after all. Despite Draco’s obsession being more obvious because he’s just so damn aggressive with it, Harry’s tiny, shy expressions are utterly endearing…. like that time Draco was in the middle of an OWL exam and Harry merely *walked into the room*:

Harry distinctly saw Malfoy throw a scathing look over at him; the wine glass Malfoy had been levitating fell to the floor and smashed. Harry could not suppress a grin.

How adorable is that?!?!?! (from BOTH of them!!!! you’re really telling me that Draco went from getting an O to an E grade in his Levitation portion of the exam just becos of Harry lol. and Harry’s tiny little shy smiles aweee) *squeals* and what’s more:

Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Harry’s way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.

“Shove off, Malfoy,” said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.

Harry just stayed quiet. How gay is this scene? Like, a guy who’s blocking your path is a total romance movie trope LOL. I’m just imagining Harry standing there blushing. >///< Ron is often a cockblock, ngl (more on that in my analysis of DH). Harry’s personality in the books is pretty outgoing, and he most definitely has a temper too, towards others. But when it comes to Draco, it’s Ron that gets overly aggressive, even when Draco isn’t messing with Ron. In fact, often when anyone talks badly about Draco, Harry doesn’t. He does talk non-stop shit about Umbridge, Snape, or Rita Skeeter, but not Draco lol……. He hates Snape too, and often compares Snape and Draco, as he thinks about how he hates Snape far more than Draco lol.

Snape had emerged from the staircase leading down to his office, and at the sight of him Harry felt a great rush of hatred beyond anything he felt toward Malfoy…

Even though Draco messes with him far more than Snape does. He loves the attention he gets from Draco, so much so that once Draco has his own shit to deal with in HBP and stops messing with him as much, Harry takes to literally *STALKING* him with a magical map all around the school………….

Despite his determination to catch Malfoy out, Harry had no luck at all over the next couple of weeks. Although he consulted the map as often as he could, sometimes making unnecessary visits to the bathroom between lessons to search it, he did not once see Malfoy anywhere suspicious.

Lmao. Remember, at this point, he still had no concrete evidence Draco was doing anything sus. None of his closest friends who had both been witnesses to Draco’s supposedly sus activities agreed it was anything worth worrying over. But nope, Harry can’t drop it. It’s to the point where even Arthur Weasley knows about his crush……

“I think you missed something,” said Harry stubbornly.

‘Well, maybe,’ said Mr Weasley, but Harry could tell that Mr Weasley was humouring him.

lmaooooo. Arthur’s reaction to his baseless accusations towards Draco was hilarious. x’D It’s truly fascinating how the adults around them just know. Both Draco’s parents and Voldemort, just as Arthur knows for Harry.

The story of Harry and Draco is an accidental horribly tragic love story for both repressed gay boys who are too afraid to actually admit how they feel. :( Their untold love is truly the epic forbidden love story of the entire goddamn series. It had the best most perfect build-up and chemistry, and JKR just like, totally overlooked that due to her irrational dislike of Draco Malfoy for some reason. 😮‍💨

Welp, that’s it for now. I’m in the middle of getting through HBP with my notes. I’ll make a new post once I finish taking the rest of my drarry notes with the series. I still had a ton more to say about DH but i’ll leave it for once I’m actually finished with the DH notes.

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #harry james potter #harry x draco #drarry meta #drarry thoughts #<3

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themisplaceddemigod · 1 year ago

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i'm immortal, i can wait

PJ!Apollo x F!Reader

summary - Apollo has loved you since he first saw you, but he's had to wait several years before he could make such a confession. Especially since you're the child of his scariest uncle, Poseidon.

warnings - Apollo is his own warning. that and his haikus, also i am KEEPING JASON ALIVE in the Trials of Apollo part of this (curse you Rick)

He met you in person when you were fourteen.

Westover Hall, you had been summoned to collect two demigod kids with your brother Percy and friends Annabeth and Thalia. The mission turned sour, Annabeth was kidnapped, and Artemis saved the day before calling him to give you all a lift back to camp.

Both of you could remember how red your face turned when you'd seen him, and he wouldn't tell you but he'd heard you talking about how hot he was with Thalia. It boosted his ego (which quite frankly does not need any more boosting), and he was smug the whole ride.

"Percy, you never told me you had a sister!" He spoke so loudly the whole bus could hear him.

"Um, because we've never met in person?" You brother suggested, a little nervously. Apollo was pretty chill, but that made him even scarier.

The god of the sun just laughed, before turning to look at you. The way his eyes roamed your figure felt less-than-innocent, and your face flushed as you yet again turned a bright shade of red. You couldn't believe the Apollo, the hottest Olympian, was actually staring at you with interest. Like he found you pretty enough to be stared at.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" He smiled flirtatiously, earning some aggressive threats from the Hunters behind you, which he ignored. "Just kidding, I know it already. (Name), right? Pretty name."

You felt as if you might explode. From embarrassment, from being flustered, you didn't know. Maybe he was toying with you, as gods tended to do, but then he looked at you again and genuine interest and attraction glimmered in his stunning blue eyes.

"Thank you, Lord Apollo," you stammered out, unsure of what else to say.

"So shy," he teased, grinning, "Cute. I like you."

Of course, he had to restrain himself from charming you entirely, since you were still a minor. Poseidon would have his head if he touched you at this age, so he decided it was best to wait a few years.

Those few years were full of struggle and pain for you, losing so many friends in the battles with Kronos and then Gaea. Apollo almost intervened just to comfort you several times, but was stopped by his sister convincing him to give you a few more years - and also reminding him that the Olympians could not intervene.

But you grew into such a beautiful, smart, brave woman - and extremely sexy, but he would have to keep that to himself - and Apollo felt lucky to have watched this growth. It made his attraction to you all the more prominent, and he began to feel something he hasn't felt in centuries - genuine. true love.

And it scared him.

His past lovers that he had really, truly loved had both been killed in gruesome ways. He was afraid of what being with him would mean for you, but ultimately decided on getting Poseidon's permission first.

The god of the sea said no.

Then came his trials.

The first demigods he went to were you and Percy, of course. Since he was stuck with an infuriating little girl, he hoped that you might tag along on his perilous journey to make it a little better.

To his delight, you agreed.

"What's so funny?" He demanded when he caught you snickering during a break from all the running.

"You," you laughed, "Never thought the god Apollo would be reduced to an average teenage boy with acne." You laughed even more at that, and he pouted, but enjoyed hearing you laugh nonetheless.

His first sign that you might have a crush on him too came when he mentioned he'd turned some gossipers into ravens just for telling on his previous cheating girlfriend. The mere mention of his ex-girlfriend seemed to irritate you, and Apollo was amused.

Though his turn for jealousy came when he noticed how close you were to Jason Grace. He couldn't do anything, though, so he watched miserably as you got along with the son of Jupiter so well that any outsider would think you were dating.

"What's with the pout, then?" You had asked him when you noticed how upset he looked.

"I am not pouting!"

"Yes you are."

You stepped closer, and your intoxicating scent filled his nostrils. He felt like a schoolboy with a massive crush, just you being that close scrambling his thoughts and making it difficult for him to answer.

"Alright, keep your secrets," you laughed, then walked away, and Apollo was left disappointed.

He was not even going to talk about the whole thing with Reyna. You had suddenly gotten so angry with him after that, you hadn't spoken to him for two days - unless absolutely necessary. It hurt, but he knew you must have been even more hurt by what had been implied.

The end of the trials eventually came and relieved all of you, the defeat of the Triumvirate taking a great weight off the world's - and yours - shoulders. Apollo disappeared after he went to fight Python, and for two weeks you heard no word from him or Olympus.

Then suddenly he was in the middle of camp, spouting the worst haikus you had ever heard in your life. And that was saying something, since all his haikus were pretty terrible.

"Like captured water

You hold me in your cupped hands

I flow on your palm."

Your jaw dropped. That was even worse than you assumed it would be, especially since he chose to center it around the fact that you're a daughter of Poseidon.

"Lord Apollo-"

"See what I did there?" He winked, coming up to you with a cheerful grin. "Did you like it?"

"Well-"

"Fear not! I have another one prepared that is sure to woo you."

Your face flushed, "Please don't say "woo", your kids are listening!"

He was already reciting his next haiku.

"You shatter my sleep

All milk-need and petal lips

You smile and I melt."

You frowned in confusion, "What does that even mean?"

"Aha! See I knew that was the one!"

"I didn't-what?"

He ignored your puzzlement in favour of coming so close to you his overwhelming godly power almost made you pass out.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around for two weeks," he apologised sincerely. "I was in a coma. I swear on the River Styx that it's the truth. But I came here as soon as I woke up, for you." He grinned like that was the best confession he could muster.

"Are you serious?" You breathed out, unable to believe what you were hearing.

"Technically I wanted you when you were fourteen, but that would have come across as creepy apparently," he informed you, "So I had to wait a few years until you turned the right age. That was okay with me, I'm immortal, I can wait."

Your jaw dropped further, "Are you, um-is this-?"

"A love confession? Yes!" He gleefully exclaimed, as if it were perfectly normal for an Olympian to invade camp and profess his love for a demigod.

The entire camp was silent, except for the Aphrodite girls who seemed to be glaring holes into you while trying to curse you - fortunately only the Apollo kids (ironically) had the power to curse a person to speak in rhymes.

"And what did...what did my dad think of this?" You cleared your throat, slightly nervous.

"Oh he was against it at first," Apollo admitted, "BUT he came around. It seems the trials proved a lot more than I thought."

"Well, uh, that's great," you half-smiled, not sure why you felt a sense of dread. This should be the happiest moment of your life.

Apollo's smile faltered, "Do you not-"

"No I do!" You quickly cut him off, sparing him the embarrassment of being rejected in front of a few dozen kids MUCH younger than him. "It's just...you're a god..."

He sighed, "Let's go take a walk."

A few minutes later you were away from prying eyes, sitting by the lake since it always calmed you down. Water soothed you, as cliche as that is for a Poseidon kid.

"I'm just worried," you started after a few minutes of silence, "You know, about all your mortal affairs and having demigod children and all that." You sighed. "I know it's silly. But I just don't think I can go through with it knowing that."

He frowned, but understood, "I can always stop-"

You laughed bitterly, "All the gods promised a woman what. Zeus promised Hera, but there's Jason and Thalia. Poseidon promised Amphitrite, but here Percy, Tyson and I are. It's in your nature, you can't help it."

He felt offended by that, "Yes well, none of them had the displeasure of being turned into mortal for a few months. It changes a god, you know."

You turned to look at him, "Are you really sure about this? That this is what you want? I'm what you want?"

"I've waited for you since you were fourteen," he reminded you, "Of course I'm sure." Despite your reluctance, he took your hand. "Please, just give me a chance."

You thought it over for a moment, before smiling softly, "Fine. You have your chance. But the first mortal affair you have-"

"I won't need them," he smiled, moving closer, "You can have all my children."

Your jaw dropped at his blatant suggestion, a deep blush forming on your cheeks, "Are you crazy?! I can't-"

"You can," he leaned in even closer, "Once I make you immortal."

You started stuttering and stammering just then, uttering some kind of incomprehensible nonsense that the god of the sun just laughed at. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, before finally leaning in and claiming your lips.

He had waited long enough, now he was going to kiss you every chance he got.

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo hoo #hoo #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #toa #apollo #pj apollo #apollo x reader #apollo x you #pj apollo x reader #pj apollo x you

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feyascorner · 1 year ago

Text

6 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You remember how the sunlight glistened against his skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press the sharp end against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 6.4k words,,,tav is better than me i would've thrown hands like twelve years ago,,,I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WROTE THIS IN LIKE TWO DAYS???? also thank you for all your comments they really motivate me to write!! so have this monster of a chapter early as thanks!!

"You'll kill them, Astarion," you mumble. "They might not have had the power to help you, but they're still your siblings. I don't want them to die hating you."

"They're not my siblings--not really. I don't care what they think of me. Hells, they could haunt me even in the afterlife, as annoying as that would be, but they're no innocents either. They've brought in as many souls as I have," he responds, his jaw visibly clenching at the thought. "I don't care if all seven thousand of them die hating me as long as you're here."

And while you feel flattered, you can't disregard the worry driving a hole through your conscience. Ever perceptive, he lifts a hand to brush stray strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips tracing your jaw. His voice is but a hushed whisper.

"You understand, don't you, my love? It would set me free--after two hundred years of forcing myself through hell--I can finally free myself from Cazador," his tone sours at just the mention of his master's name, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, drawing your attention back to him.

"It is what you want for me, no? For me to be happy?"

It is what you want. Just not like this.

Music was your way of releasing the mountain of feelings you kept locked away in your chest, waiting for the right person to recognize them for what they are. You’d hoped someone would understand the meaning behind your lyrics without you telling them outright, and they’d know what it truly meant to you. And for a while, you’d believed Astarion would be the key to this safe.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“While I usually entertain your certainly out-of-the-box plans, this is bordering on just foolish, I’m afraid,” Gale sighs, eyes tracing you as you pace around the house, stuffing every possible weapon and healing potion into a brown sack. Despite his insistence, you ignore him, testing the blade of a knife against the edge of the table. It’s not entirely dull, nor is it sharper than the dagger in your drawer, but it’ll have to do. “Simply charging into the tavern won’t do much good if you’ll be overwhelmed in number anyway.”

“I know what I’m doing, Gale,” you hiss, snatching an Alchemist’s Fire and shoving it a tad too hard into your bag. He tenses. “If they want to talk to me so badly, then I’m not waiting around for them to attack another one of my friends—I’ll go to them.”

“Yes, your determination is certainly praise-worthy, but can we please just sit down and think this through before running into a battlefield with a few knives? This is basically a suicide mission.”

“The wizard is right, even if it’s hard to believe,” Lae’zel announces from the corner of the room, wiping a cloth on her sword. “When I arrived, they’d already fled. They could be anywhere by now, and they’ve had more than enough time to plan another ambush if we were to charge now. We must be smart about this. I am a warrior, but I am no fool.”

“I’ll go by myself,” you say, a sense of finality in your voice. “They already showed what they’d do if someone they didn’t want to talk to approached them. I’ll just talk to them.”

Gale stares with lidded eyes. “So why are you packing so many explosives, exactly?”

“...Precaution?”

Silence befalls the room, and you take it as a sign to finish your preparations. All you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the rain falling against the windows of the home. The lot of you had somehow managed to stabilize Shadowheart by the time Lae’zel returned, and while she’d been conscious earlier, you insisted she rest before she consumed herself with the investigation again. You didn’t miss the way she limped back to her room with little to protest against you.

“Take the spawn with you.”

Two jaws drop at the words, the only one remaining fixed belonging to Lae’zel.

“The kainyank is living here to help. Not cause more problems for us. And so far, he’s only done one of the two things, and I’m dangerously close to turning to my blade if he doesn’t choose otherwise,” she says. “The spawn are searching for him, too. If blood breaks out, you must use him to flee safely.”

Gale blinks. “As in…use him as a body shield?”

“What else is he good for?”

While the wizard seems positively appalled, you can see the contemplation flicker in his eyes before he shakes his head. He's always been more considerate than the rest of you. “No, Tav would never agree to such a-”

“Okay.”

They both whip their heads toward you, and you avoid their piercing gazes, staring down at the dull blade in your hand. “It might help, too, if we find out why they want him. There are nearly 3000 spawns in the city—we can’t kill all of them, at least not immediately. It’d be best if we convinced them to leave, and the best way of doing that is to understand what they want in the first place.”

Lae’zel narrows her eyes. “Then you must swear it. Swear that if Astarion were to face risks, you will leave him behind. If he were to turn on you, you slice through his throat without a second of hesitation. He is there to aid you–nothing else.”

“I will,” the words feel hot on your tongue.

And so, you soon find yourself standing in front of his door, hand reaching for the door handle. There’s a slight pause right as you touch the cool metal, but you bite your tongue and shove it open, praying he’s still not as ravenous as he was a few hours ago. And much to your surprise, he appears wholly composed.

He lowers his book to his lap, eyes training themselves on you as they dart from your bag and then back to your face. The window’s wide open, bathing him in the moonlight, with dark curtains tied to the wall to keep them from obscuring his view of the city. He raises a brow. “What could you possibly want from me at two in the morning? Come here for a cuddle?”

You’re scowling again.

“I need you-”

“I’m flattered, but I fear you may stab a butter knife into my eye, so I’ll have to decline.”

“Not like that.” Your frown creases deeper at his smug grin. “We’re going to the Blushing Mermaid to find the spawn.”

“Just us?”

“They want to see us.”

“And if I refuse?”

The answer is almost immediate, cutting through the atmosphere like a knife on bread. “I hear the bloody bedrolls in the Duke’s dungeon are very comfortable.”

He drops his smile at this, and a tiny spark of pride puffs your chest. He seems to weigh his choices before snapping his book shut and standing from the bed, snatching a comb from his bedside table before pacing up to you, pocketing it behind him.

"A comb?"

He shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I doubt you’ll be giving me a weapon of any sort, so I must make do.”

You don’t correct him.

As the two of you make your way downstairs, you hear your other companions speaking.

“I didn’t expect you of all people to defend Astarion,” Gale says in disbelief, still comprehensive as Lae’zel poorly cuts up slices of an apple.

“I am doing no such thing, istik,” she mutters. “I am giving him a choice. Either to pick up his dead weight and prove his life is worth more than the dirt on my shoes or die at my hand.”

The walk to the Blushing Mermaid is painfully awkward. To you, anyway, because he seems positively unbothered the entire time. Seeing him leisurely follow behind you is irritating—and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit.

By the time you survey the area around the tavern, you’ve discerned they must be inside, considering there are no ambushes awaiting your arrival. While it’s a relief, it also increases the anxiety of what lies inside the tavern itself, and you confirm your knives are at your disposal if it were ever to come to that. You sincerely hope it doesn’t. Astarion sighs dramatically for the umpteenth time as you approach the front doors, and you finally snap to look at him with a glare.

“Will you stop breathing so damn loud?”

The change in your attitude toward him is apparent, but he doesn't seem to care. If anything, he seems more pleased with you than he was before every time you shoot him an annoyed glance or something along those lines. He responds with lazy answers, but it's better than the bitter ones he gave you before.

You're not terribly surprised, though. He's always loved pissing people off for his own entertainment, and it would be an understatement to say that he's been somewhat successful with you.

“I’m not breathing, my dear. I don’t need to, remember?”

“Then what is your problem?” you hiss between your teeth. “Are you trying to wake up the entire city with your insistent groaning?”

“Must we do this tonight, of all days? Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?”

“No!” you say in exasperation. “That gives them too much time to heal and recover from Shadowheart and Gale. It has to be tonight, just in case they do decide to fight—then we’ll have an easier time because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s just us two!”

He sighs again, and you swear you might pluck a strand of his hair for good measure. And just as you shove past him and reach for the door, he clears his throat again. Loudly.

“For God’s sake, what?” you nearly yell.

He smiles at you, pointing at the front door. “Well, if we’re looking to avoid an ambush, perhaps we should find another way in than the main entrance. Unless my prior knowledge as a rogue proceeds me.”

You blink. You recognize the validity of his statement and feel your face flare, and you immediately march past him again—the other way this time—and search for the nearest wall you can climb up to the roof. You hear him snicker, but you do your best to ignore it.

Somehow, you manage to climb in through the window, admittedly a lot louder than him, but you don’t think it’s fair to compare yourself to him when he has footsteps lighter than a child’s. Hidden behind one of the tables, you peer into the rest of the tavern, which is completely empty save for the bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. You turn to signal to him that the coast is clear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Immediately, your face drains of color.

“Right here, darling.”

He drops down from seemingly thin air, and you gasp, nearly letting out a shriek if it weren’t for your hand covering your mouth. He grins at that.

Bastard.

“There’s nobody in the entire building–at least, not visible to the eye,” he confirms, glancing around the room.

“How do you know that?”

He points at the ceiling, and your eyes follow it. “Someone decided to build such useful beams on the roof. You can see the entire place from up there. Care to take a look?”

While you would have thanked him if he had been any other person, you only march straight by him. “Don’t do anything without telling me first.”

“No ‘thanks, Astarion’?” He quirks a brow but huffs when you ignore him. “Very well then, my liege. No need to acknowledge a humble servant such as I. But I shall let you know when I’m about to take any questionable decision.”

You’re starting to wonder if his presence is worth the headache it gives you.

Pacing around the tavern, it seems all too normal. No blood splatters against the wall, no broken chairs—hells, even the booze cups look clean, which is a rarity for the Blushing Mermaid. You check each room, inspecting down to the last cups in case there are traces of blood in them, but to no avail.

It’s like there was never anyone here.

“You look like you’re having trouble, my dear,” Astarion clicks his tongue mockingly, leaning back in one of the more luxurious chairs he’s decided is his own.

“Considering the only company I decided to bring along is lounging around like a bum, I’m not surprised,” you say back, now searching the smallest cracks in the walls for some sort of secret passage. It’s strange. Even though your companions had spoken of the bodies they encountered when facing the spawn, there’s not a single speck of blood in sight. Neither is there anything outside but the whistle of the wind.

“This particular wall must be quite fascinating.”

You fight the need to groan and whip around to snap at him, but he’s suddenly just a foot away from you, staring at the spot you’d been squinting at. Gods, you hate how quiet he is when he walks.

“As wonderful as it is getting a fresh breath of air,” he feigns disappointment with a half-hearted sigh, turning to walk toward the entrance. “I believe we’ve done what we can. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d love to return to my book–”

The wooden floor underneath him creaks. It sounds hollow.

As if there’s something underneath.

“The basement,” you blink, eyes wide. “The hag’s lair.”

He stares at you as if you’ve taken too many mushrooms. “It was sealed up after we rid of that dreadful woman. Good riddance, too, I mean, I’m not particularly fond of children, but eating them, even I wouldn’t be able–”

You rush toward the very corner of the tavern, sensing that he’s following you regardless of his obvious distaste toward your decision. There, you push against a table perched on top of the basement latch and test its locks.

It’s open.

“Heavens, it reeks here. How didn’t I smell it before?”

“Of what?” You sniff the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Blood, my dear. Fairly recent, too, if my judgment hasn’t gotten rusty in the time I’ve spent cooped up in that room,” he pauses. “And I haven’t gotten rusty, to be clear.”

“Right,” you retort, reaching down to pull the latch open. You don’t see him do the same, and you glance at him quizzically.

“Gods no,” he says, when he realizes why you’re staring. “I’m doing no such thing that ruins these nails.”

You sigh. Loudly.

The latch opens relatively easily, but you make an effort not to simply swing it open in fear the occupants inside might be warned of your arrival. You prop the trap door open against a chair and begin your descent down the stairs, remaining as silent as possible.

The first thing you can notice is that he’d been right.

The stench of blood burns in your nose, and you immediately cover it with your sleeve to avoid inhaling anymore. You’ve smelt enough of your companion’s blood today, and you’d rather not continue the streak with the blood of complete strangers. Astarion, however, frowns.

“Such a waste,” he mumbles.

When you turn to where he’s looking, there’s a pile of bodies—poor victims, no doubt—lying over a puddle of their collective blood mixing with one another. It almost feels inhumane to leave them that way, just hours after their death, as if they’re cattle to be used.

Though, in this case, they are cattle.

“Are you sure it’s them?”

“I’m telling you it is!”

“Where’s their lyre, then?”

“How would I know that?”

You locate the source of the whispers instantly, reaching for one of your daggers as your eyes bore into the corners of the lair that are obscured from your view. Astarion steps forward before you can figure out a plan to approach them, arrogance exuding from his very body as he holds nothing but the comb tucked in his back pocket. “We can hear you, you fools. Come out before I lose my patience.”

“What are you doing?” you hiss.

“They’re only a few spawns, my dear. Nothing like Cazador—no need to be so cautious.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a woman emerges from the shadows, her eyes trained on your own as she marvels at your mere presence. You realize she’s not alone as multiple vampires begin to emerge from different corners of the room, all a safe distance away but not enough to ease the nerves jittering in your stomach. She steps toward you. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”

Another spawn steps beside her, and you immediately notice how ravenous he seems, eyes almost glistening with hunger as they bore straight into you. The woman puts a hand on his neck, seemingly soothing him, before he slumps his shoulders again, but the pure violence swirling in his head doesn’t seem to vanish. She then looks to Astarion, and the expression on her face morphs into something more akin to dread. “And you, brother.”

“Dalyria.” Astarion only stares with lidded eyes, visibly unfazed.

You instinctively scan the entire lair, searching for any differences you can spot since the last time you were here. The only glaring thing besides the bodies piled in the corner is the study desk on the other side of the room, scattered with different potions and concoctions. Behind the desk is an entire wall plastered with diagrams—most of which study the anatomy and functionality of what you can only determine to be a vampire judging from the fangs. There are also beds everywhere—though they look like they could collapse any second—and the room almost looks like a hospital.

The atmosphere between the siblings is so uncomfortable you’d think they’ll start attacking one another any second.

“Is Leon here?” you finally cut through, lowering your hand away from your blade. “I need to speak with him—technically, all of you.”

“How curious. We were hoping to speak with you as well,” she says, motioning all the other spawn to stand down. It does little to ease you. “By all means, feel free to go first.”

You take the opportunity, too exhausted, to demonstrate polite etiquette. “The spawn are causing too much trouble in the city, Dalyria. They’re killing too many people, and it’s getting noticed by more than enough people. At this rate, you’ll lose some of your own if the Fist figure out how you guys are hiding throughout the city.”

“...Yes, I’m aware.”

The resignation in her voice makes your throat bob, but you continue anyway. “I’m saying we need to get you guys somewhere more stable. Whether it be the Underdark or elsewhere, we can’t have you staying here.”

“I see,” she says slowly. “I appreciate you trying to talk this out with us, but I’m afraid I cannot grant your request.”

Your shoulders tense, and you can see Astarion shift beside you. “You don’t understand, sister. There’s going to be an outright war at this rate-”

“Baldur’s Gate is our home as well, Astarion. You, of all people, should know this,” she demands. “We have a right to remain here, and if the Fist insists on forcing us out, we have no choice but to retaliate.”

“But you’re killing the city off!” you gawk in disbelief, unable to believe what you’re hearing.

“We’re surviving,” she corrects, the corners of her lips turning downward. “Surely you can’t hate us for that.”

“Then…” you blink at her, positively appalled at her words. “Why the hells did you need to speak with me? What was worth putting my companion through hell?”

“...There is a way—for both parties to benefit.” She looks down at her hands, then back up at you. “I didn’t expect the both of you to come together. Our informants were correct when they claimed to see Astarion in your possession. In all honesty, we technically only needed one of you, but this makes things a lot quicker.”

Confused but desperately wanting an answer, you urge her to continue. Only you can see the way Astarion’s hand slips toward his pocket, where his comb lies.

“We were going to ask you to bring him to us, you see. But it appears you’ve already done the hard part.”

The dreaded intuition in the back of your mind tells you something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Me? What do you need me for?” he scowls.

She disregards him and continues speaking to you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “If you turn him over to us, you’ll never have to see him again. That is what you want, yes?”

Both you and the pale elf freeze.

“I watched as my brother nearly killed you the day of the ritual,” she continues. “I understand how you feel being betrayed by someone you thought shared your pain. And I believe this is a way to relieve you of that pain—and finally move onto a new stage of your life.”

She acts as if Astarion is the only thing holding you from moving on from the past few months of your life. And if she’d said so a week ago, you would have nothing to defend yourself with. But you’ve cut the few strings left that tie yourself to him. You remind yourself that you no longer care for him, regardless of the slight squeeze in your chest. You’ve already sworn to force yourself to disregard him, and you want to say all these things to her, but nothing comes out. So, instead, you keep your mouth sealed.

Astarion scoffs from beside you.

“For God’s sake, please tell me you’re not actually considering this. Let’s just force the madwoman out and go,” his voice attempts to stay firm, but it’s high-pitched at the end. He’s panicking.

You don’t respond to him, and he stiffens. “...My main concern is the city. If you think you can use my personal matters to convince me to just let you keep killing all these people–”

“That matter will resolve itself in its own time. We’ll return to the Underdark—or wherever it is you wish, and you won’t have to spend your nights hunting us down anymore.”

With a dry throat, you fixate your gaze on her face, desperately trying to discern any hint of a crack in her mask. Instead, you find nothing. “Why would you do that? For one spawn?”

“I’m afraid that’s for me and my siblings to know. But I can promise you that no harm will come to you if you take this deal.”

For what seems like the millionth time this month, you have no idea what to do. Lae’zel’s words flood you like a wave crashing onto shore as you remind yourself that Astarion is here not as your ally but as a shield. If things are as Dalyria says, simply turning over the man standing next to you would end this entire ordeal. You could return to your everyday life of repairing the city, learning to heal and grow from the terrors of the illithid invasion. You could learn to let people in again.

You could learn to play music again in hopes of finding the person you dreamed would understand.

Such an enticing, perfect deal. It’s almost too perfect. But you’ve learned not to trust perfection, especially when handed to you by a vampire spawn.

Astarion, who had been observing your expression this whole time, almost seems to read your mind. Or perhaps he’s just feeling selfish, ready to defend himself. “You’ve created a lot of problems for me, dear sister. I’ve gotten accused of your own murders, thanks to your pets.”

The delirious spawn, who’d looked sluggish after Dalyria’s soothing, now bares his teeth at Astarion. Dalyria attempts to calm him again, but it’s no use. The bloodthirst cannot be satiated unless there’s blood spilled on his very hands.

Astarion doesn’t seem to take a hint—or maybe he does but chooses to simply ignore it. “I’ve always known you were strange, Dalyria, but really? Experimenting with your ‘useless procedures’ on fresh spawns? He looks positively possessed, sister. He might just resort to eating you instead.”

“They are not useless, Astarion,” she snaps. “I am a doctor. I’m only curing what needs to be cured.”

“Then tell me why you haven’t managed to cure yourself of our curse? You may be intelligent in medical aspects, but gods above, you are more foolish than Cazador himself if you really think you can cure vampirism.”

“I had nobody to test my ideas on for two centuries, Astarion! Now that I do, surely I can-”

“You’re starving them, Dalyria,” he snaps, tone drastically different from the banter you shared just minutes ago. “And they’ll give into the thirst sooner or later.”

His words are the final straw.

The spawn who’d been standing beside her launches himself toward you. Before you can even register what’s happening, his fangs are at your throat, your neck tilted so it shoots pain up your side. Just as you feel your skin split at the tips of his canines, Astarion rips him away from you so harshly that the spawn flies helplessly into the wall, which crumbles under his weight. Dust flies into your eyes, and you cough, wiping at them until it clears just enough to see Dalyria staring in horror.

“I told you, Dalyria. You are no doctor, not anymore,” Astarion scoffs, eyes narrowed into slits. “And I’m afraid I can’t let you kill my liege here, as I’d much hate to be trapped in a cell somewhere underground.”

You reach the specks of blood drops forming on your neck, horrified by the close encounter you had with death just seconds ago. The culprit of your injury lies unconscious beside the cracked wall, and you wonder just how hard he had to be thrown to be rendered in such a state. You can see the other spawns’ eyes practically glow at the sight of your blood—fresh, unlike the pile of corpses on the other side of the room.

She turns to you, desperation pouring from the wavering of her voice. “Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t make us enemies. All you need to do is give us Astarion. My brother, for heaven's sake!”

You think better of it. Something that obviously pleases Astarion if the way his face relaxes tells you anything.

“May I?” he glances at you.

Surely, there are ways–more civilized ways–-than drawing your blade, but the ferocious growling from the rest of the spawn tells you otherwise. You need to find out why she needs Astarion so badly, and clearly, she’s not willing to tell you unless it’s through pure force. You despise the idea as much as you despise the predicament you’re in, but you refuse to be attacked and deliver nothing back. Just as you nod to his question, another spawn lunges, unable to resist the red staining your neck.

But it’s smart this time, choosing to eliminate any threats before turning to the full course. In this case, the only thing between you and the vampires is another vampire.

“Brother!” Dalyria shouts, horrified.

You don't bother calling his name, only barely manage to tackle Astarion out of the way before the spawn’s claw sinks into the very ground he was standing on just seconds ago.

As embarrassing as it is to practically crash on top of him, both of you wince because it’s more painful than anything. You force yourself up with your arms, and it’s then that you see even more spawn crawling from whatever shadows they hid in, and you realize you are terribly and most definitely outnumbered. By a lot.

“Dalyria, if you’re truly a doctor, do something! Stop them, godsdammit!” you shriek in her direction.

“They’re not—they were doing so well!...” she gasps before she reaches for a tattered journal and desperately files through its pages in a frenzy. “They were nearly docile before. I don’t know why–”

You feel Astarion’s hands slip out of the sack you carry on your back, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him opening it. He’s still lying flat on the ground, and you look down at him, puzzled before he laughs bitterly.

“I’ll be borrowing this for a few minutes, darling.”

You barely dodge another spawn that comes flying at you, rolling off of him and practically slamming into the wall. And before you can crawl away, your knife—in Astarion’s hand—stabs through the spawn’s left eye through the back of their head, specks of their blood splattering against your cheek.

You want to throw up.

“No, don’t harm them! Please, just let us go!” Dalyria pleads, but you’re finished being patient with her. She clearly has no way of calming the spawn, and you’re tired of being thrown around like a ragdoll in the mess that is the lair.

You yank out the Alchemist’s Fire and chuck it at the nearest cluster of spawn—around 2 or 3—and flinch as the vial collides and explodes into flames right before your eyes, blowing your hair out of your face in a gust of smoke and wind. You swear you hear Astarion cackle in utter glee at the destruction, but you choose not to dwell on it, too busy figuring out how else you could get out of here alive.

“You’re ruining the patients!” Dalyria screams, and you almost regret not throwing the vial at her instead.

“Your spawn are the ones attacking us!”

Suddenly, her face goes impossibly pale, and you hear a hiss of pain from a few feet away. Astarion winces as one of the spawn claws at his chest leaves behind a reasonably deep wound following the path of their sharp nails. Your knife is kicked away from him, and you hear Dalyria again just as he reaches for the comb instead. “Brother, be careful!”

You’re not sure if she wants you and Astarion dead or not, but it’s seriously giving you backlash at this point.

He stabs the comb into the spawn’s neck and kicks him away, and you take the opportunity to send the knife he dropped through the air.

By some miracle, it pierces straight through the spawn’s arm. Astarion lets out a breathy laugh from the floor, attention glued to your handiwork. “Ha! And to think that could have been me!”

And while you want to admire your aim yourself, there’s no time. Dalyria’s footsteps rush up the stairs, out of the basement, and you realize you need to follow moments after Astarion, who’s already fleeing up the steps, cursing under his breath. “That demented wench!”

You stand to follow after him, but the remaining spawns are already blocking your way. There are only two more, but you brace yourself for the worst, reaching for whatever remaining weapons you have left in your sack. The smoke and debris feel suffocating in your lungs, but you have no choice but to push through, praying to whatever God you can remember at the moment that this be the last time you have to fight this many vampire spawn. Or any, for that matter.

You wish you had left your fighting days behind you when you defeated the elder brain, but you suppose even that was too much to ask for.

You arrive just in time to see the sunrise.

Lying against a wall is Astarion, who you find just before the sunlight hits the part of the ground he’s on. He’s clutching his shoulder, which drips with his own blood, and showing no signs of the quick vampire regeneration. You stare down at him, face stoic as you wait for him to say something.

Judging from his condition, you assume Dalyria got away.

“Leaving me to die here would be unwise,” he scoffs. “Though it’d be rather easy to let me burn to death in the sun, I must remind you that I much rather prefer decapitation if it’s all the same to you.”

“I’ll consider it,” you reply curtly. "Can't promise anything, though."

He leans his head back, amused. The sunlight is just a few feet away now, and you wonder how long it's been since he's been outside to watch the sunrise. “You’ve always had a cruel streak in you. I just had to lure it out, sometimes, but when it did come out—Gods, you should have seen it yourself.”

“You’re delirious,” you remind him, observing just how much blood he’s losing. You remind yourself of your resentment when worry probes a small part of your heart. One that you hope dies soon. “Why aren’t you healing?”

“I haven’t been exactly feeding well, unfortunately. And days old boar’s blood can only sustain me so long, darling,” he lulls his head forehead, sneering to himself. “Now that I think about it, dying by sunlight sounds rather poetic, don’t you think? Perhaps you can make a song about my glorious death.”

He’s definitely unhinged from blood loss.

You sigh, tossing his arm over your shoulder as you deem the sunlight a bit too close now. It’s a slow process with your own body’s soreness, but you manage to drag him to a more shaded area, propping him against the wall there so that you can rummage through your sack for a healing potion. You stop when his hand latches onto your arm.

“What?” you frown.

“It won’t help. I need blood, my dear.”

“There’s none for you here.”

“The bodies in the basement,” he bites back a groan, more blood gushing out of his shoulder. “I can make use of them--give their deaths a sense of purpose."

The displeasure on your face must be apparent because he laughs.

You pause, lowering the sack onto the ground. While you’re illuminated by the sunlight now, he remains in the shadow of the building, only able to see the sun with how it reflects off of your skin. And you find that he’s no longer looking at you but looking past you into the glowing orb you call the sun. You remember how its light glistened against his own skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.

It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.

With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press its tip against the tip of your finger.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”

His eyes widen, and the temptation is more than evident with how his mouth falls open as if he tastes your blood from a few inches away. But as fast as it had come, he tears his eyes away. “I’m not taking your blood.”

“Stop with your prideful act, Astarion. You’re going to bleed out.”

“I wouldn’t die, exactly. I would just remain unconscious until I can properly heal myself.”

You spare him a long, hard stare. He refuses to look at you, biting the inside of his cheek to ignore the scent of your blood. And it's painfully clear he's failing.

You have no idea why he's so insistent on avoiding your blood, but you refuse to spend your own time pondering it.

“Fine then.”

He watches in utter loss as you lick the blood off of your finger, shrugging. “Bleed out for all I care.”

You turn to stand, but his hand latches on your arm once more. You’re not sure if you’re imagining how warm he feels, but you think you must be. He's always been terribly cold.

“Do you hate me now?” he asks again, this time staring up at you through his lashes. “Have I finally run through your patience?”

The question remains the same as he asked you a week ago, but it feels different now. This time, you know your answer, and it feels so, so relieving. You just wish you could understand his own feelings, but his expression is so superficial you don’t even attempt it.

“Yes,” you reply blankly. “I hate you.”

He takes a moment to process your words. You have to admit it’s satisfying to say it to his face, even if your hatred for him is new. But perhaps because it’s new is why you feel it so strongly, and you silently thank it for how confident you sound saying the words. Even if they taste bitter. You think he might have some quip to respond with, but he only smiles, and as usual, it doesn’t reach his eyes.

You never want to see it again.

Without another word, he pulls you down to him, and you nearly topple over before stabilizing yourself with either of your knees on either side of his legs. He breathes against your neck, and you think he might drink from you until you feel his fingers brush against your nape. Immediately, your body freezes like a deer in headlights, flinching at his touch as your mind involuntarily forces the last memories you have of his hands on your neck.

And ever so perceptive, he notices how you recoil from his touch.

You hate your body for reacting the way it does out of fear. Not the disgust or the anger, but something much more pathetic, and you want to go back on your own actions to stop yourself from appearing so weak to him. You think he might tease you--taunt you, even, but he stops, slowly pulling away and lowering his head from the crook between your shoulder and head.

You’re unable to see his face, but his movements seem more sluggish.

Instead of going for your neck, he lifts your wrist, brushing his lips against it before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.

Despite the initial sting, it’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to over time. With him, it had always felt so intimate. It’s why you can’t help but feel heat bloom across your cheeks before you remind yourself you no longer care for him. Only when you think he’s drinking a bit too long do you try to pull away, but his arm loops around your waist, bringing you even closer as the amount of blood he’s taking increases with how deep his fangs are.

You feel so cold, yet heat burns through your very blood. It makes your head dizzy, and you take it as a sign that he’s had enough.

You only manage to speak a few seconds later, breathless. “Astarion.”

He pulls away, seemingly out of breath himself as he releases his hold on the rest of your body. He runs his tongue over the access, staining the side of his mouth. He uses his finger to make sure the rest is off his face. “I know.”

He rarely feeds so messily, so you discern he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been drinking well. Knowing he wasn’t deceiving you brings little relief, but it’s still a welcome feeling. Rubbing at your wrist and the two puncture wounds now residing there, you stand up and slug your sack over your shoulder. He watches you the entire time, and you hate that you can never seem to read his expressions—only one, and that’s whenever he claims to despise your very existence.

His shoulder has already stopped bleeding.

“Why didn’t you drink from those people at Sharess’ Caress?” you finally say.

“Their blood…” he pauses, trailing off, and suddenly he seems to change his mind. “...I've grown tired of it.”

“Blood is just blood, isn’t it?”

He stares at you for a moment, then laughs.

“I wish it was, darling.”

Tags:@ayselluna@littleenglishfangirl@bg3obsessedsideblog@iwillpissyourpants@cyberpr1m3@ukeia-uchiha@snowlotr@road-riot@spacekidnova@madislayyy@lordfishflakes@nicalysm@djarinsway@tinystarfishgalaxy@brainz00@hopeful-n-sad@ohdeerieme@madisban@chrismarium@chonkercatto@fanfic-share@sleepyred1703@miskouly@ravenswritingroom @iamlowkeycrying @deezus-roy @spiritraves @mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc @whisperingwillowxox @bdudette @misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @aelieknox @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @bitterbeanren Please let me know if I didn't add you to the list or if you'd like to be added!

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3 #angst

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ashblooddragons · 7 months ago

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The Red Queen (Chapter 8/?)

112 ac

Your Pov

It's the day of Mama's funeral. I try not to cry again as I sit in the bath as my maid wash hair.

“What oils would you like today, Princess? Your usual jasmine?” Orchid asks already reaching for the oil bottle ready to pour it in the tub and my hair.

But instead, I stop her and think about Mama's calming scent and Ali's vanilla scent, or at least that's what she calls it.

“What was Mama's oil?” I ask and I see the flash of sadness cross Orchid's face before she smiles and grabs another bottle.

“Lavender, the late Queen loved Lavender.” She says filling the dropper before letting the oil drip into my bath and hair.

“Can I have vanilla too? Or would that smell bad?” I ask curiously before biting my lip nervously.

“Lavender and vanilla would be lovely together, Princess.” Orchid says before reaching for the small vial of vanilla oils.

Once she has them both in the bath and my hair I feel safe, like a warm hug, like I can breathe again. I start to cry again but Orchid acts like she doesn't notice, most of the maids act like they don't notice. I don't understand why, why can't they wipe my tears like Kepus and Ali do? Why can't they hold me so close like Kepus and Ali do? They hold me so tight it's hard to breathe but I can feel their hearts beating feel they're alive feel they're here.

But what confuses me the most is why Mama had to leave me? She promised after this baby was born she would play with me finally, that she would come to my leasons and see how smart I'm getting. But now she can't do that, because she's gone forever.

Everyone keeps saying that, but they won't tell me how long forever is, only that it is forever. It doesn't make sense, I just want to know when I can see my Mama again when she'll be back to play and see how smart I am.

“All done, Princess.” Orchid says wiping my face of the water from the bath, but from her frown I can tell she was also wiping my tears.

I stand in the bath and use my step stool to get out so she can wrap me in a warm towel that always feels warm against my skin because she rests it next to the fire, and smells of something woodsy.

I'm quickly dried and dressed in a black dress. Put on thick wool stockings as it's chilly today and my hair braided so it's a crown upon my head. Orchid helps me put on my bracelet and necklace from Kepus like always before someone knocks on the door.

“Come!” I call out rubbing my already raw and painful eyes. I then look down in case it's Papa, he seems to not be able to look at me anymore. I don't understand why though I haven’t done anything wrong.

“Ñuha riña, it's time to go.” I hear Kepus say.

Not Papa, I don't have to hide my face.

I turn and look up and see him frown at how bloody my lips and how red my eyes are.

“Can't I wear red, it's a much prettier color than black.” I say frowning

This seems to make him happy as he chuckles with a shake of his head before he kneels down so he can hold my hands in his. My hands always seem so small when he holds them, not like the big girl hands I like to think they are. “No, I'm afraid not ñuha riña. Black, is traditional mourning colors you will be wearing them for a while yet.” He says inspecting my hair to see how well done it is.

“I did it today, M'lord.” Orchid says from her spot behind me with her head down.

Kepus made sure to tell Orchid only she and him can do my hair now, maybe the ‘little Hightower’ but I don't know who that would be.

“I figured as much, it's not in her eyes.” He responds with a nod to my maids before picking me up and walking out of my room.

Once in the carriage I see Nyra who is glaring at me as usual but this time it sends chills down my spine. Had I done something? And then I see Papa next to her and he won't look at me, as if doing so brings him pain. I must have done something bad, but what?

The ride is quiet, almost suffocatingly so, so I feel I need to break it.

“When will me and Nyra know when to tell Syrax and Stromchaser to dracarys?” I ask Papa but when he doesn’t answer I turn to look up at Kepus instead.

“I’ll count down from five, once I say zero you two command them to light the pyre.” He says glaring at Papa or some reason.

I only nod and look out the window watching as the smallfolk cry for Mama. They miss her too, hopefully their Mama’s aren’t goen too.

When we make it to Rhaeny’s hill Kepus picks me up again and whispers to me “it’s quite steep, ñuha riña, don’t you tripping and getting hurt.”

I feel the wind against my back, it makes me shiver as I cling to Kepus hoping he'll keep the cold away. Once we make it to the top of the hill he sets me down on my feet. He lets me cling to his leg as the Valyrian priest chants.

I try and ignore them as I look at Mama and baby Baelon, they're wrapped in a brown cloth so tight I can see the outline of Mama's arms, legs, and belly. Her belly looks weird but I ignore it as it's probably because she's dead.

Once the priest is done and walks away I let go of Kepus and walk forward with Nyra.

“It's time girls, are you ready ñuha riña?” Kepus says standing between us.

I want to scream ‘NO’ but I know that I must, that Mama and Baelon must be ‘put to rest’ or at least that's what Ali said. So instead I nod my head as I wipe my tears.

Kepus looks between us one last time before sighing and nodding his head, a lmost like he's defeated.

“Five.”

I gasp realizing I'm never going to be ready this, to let Mama go. At least before I had to turn her to ash in the wind I could pretend she was just on a long trip, that she wasn't gone that she was only seeing her family in the Vale.

“Four.”

I feel my heart clench, feel it about beat out of my chest. It's painful, it hurts, but not as much as when I burn Mama away.

“Three.”

I can't breathe, why can't I breathe? I can feel my heart practically beat out of my chest. I feel my lungs constrict so I can only take in small gasps of air.

“Two.”

I feel Kepus rest his hand on my shoulder giving it a squeeze. I still can't breathe, still feel my heart beating out of my chest, but for some reason, it's all getting easier to deal with.

“One.”

I hear Stromchaser let out a cry of pain, Kepus says they feel our emotions, our pain, I have to stay calm for Stromchaser. But I can't I can't calm down, I'm losing Mama forever.

“Now.”

I figured out what forever means, and all it took was me screaming with Nyra, commanding our dragons to make Mama and Baelon ash in the wind. Make them gone forever.

Once Stromchaser and Syrax stop their flames I turn to Kepus leaping into his arms and sobbing. Sobbing that I'll never get to see Mama again and play in the gardens with her. Sobbing because I'll never get to meet my baby brother. Sobbing that Mama and Baelon are gone forever.

Daemons Pov

I stand leaning against the Weirwood tree waiting for that blasted Dornish man, Cole.

I knew after that fucking Sarwyck lost in the first round you needed a better guard. Though my pride was hurt I can't deny that Cole proved himself, that he would be the perfect guard for you.

I remember the look of hos face when I grabbed him after, it was a look of horror, of fear of what the Prince of the city would do to him. Instead I only whispered one thing.

“Meet me at the Weorwood tree in a week's time at the hour of the wolf.”

He quickly agreed of course but now I'm wondering if I should have threatened him instead of letting him go on his merry way.

I hear a twig snap under someone's foot and turn to see him. He seems to have rushed here if the sweat on his brow is any indicator.

Must have realized he was almost late. I think with a cruel smirk.

“You wished to see me, my Prince?” He says winded and bent over with his hands on his knees catching his breath.

“I have an offer for you, though if you take it you'll answer to me and no one else.” I say standing straight and walking towards him.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“You took down one of my Gold Cloaks, he was in charge of the care and well-being of the youngest Princess. Can't have someone who can't even beat a stewards son protect my sweet little niece, now can I?” I say in a calm voice that has always led men to do as I please, even my brother, the King.

“And what does that have to do with me?” He asks standing straight again hands behind his back.

I know that stance, I know it well.

“You're a soldier aren't you.” I say but it was rhetorical

“Yes, my Prince.” He responds curtly but I catch the scowl that he was read so easily.

Oh just you wait, Ser Cole, you'll learn to hide everything in this pit of vipers soon.

“If I could make it where you have a very high chance of becoming a Kingsguard, would you?”

He seems shocked from the way his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. I can't fight the chuckle that leaves me, nor would I want to.

“It would be an honor, my Prince. But why would they choose a stewards son over a lord's son who has also been to war?” He asks, curious and skeptical to this offer.

“And what I'd I said they wouldn't be others who have gone to war?”

He freezes for all of ten seconds before a smile comes to his face. “And what would you need from me? Of course after you give me such a high ranking at court you will want something in return?”

I stop and look at him surprised. Most who are not from Kingslanding would have taken this chance by now, I can't tell if I'm proud, annoyed, or impressed. I think before responding.

“You see, I noticed something about our match. I had my blade to your throat, I let you live, and yet at the first chance you got back up and made sure I'd be the one to yield.” I say smiling when he starts to shift uncomfortably.

“It was a fair fight, you know it just as much as I.”

“Never said it wasn't, you never said you yielded, so by all rights you could, and did get back up to continue to fight.” I say smirking when I see the tension leave his shoulders.

“That still doesn't explain why you need me.” He says obviously getting annoyed.

“It's simple, I want- no I need a man who will use suck ‘dirty’ tactics when defending my niece. If I was to help you, you will defend the youngest, the Realms Darling they call her.”

“Why her and not the eldest?” He asks confused.

“Rhaenyra has at least three guards at her demand, none are truly hers but they may as well be. The youngest…well she has only had the spares or the ones I give to her. I wish for her to have one I know I can trust. One that will give me the information I desire, when I desire it.”

He seems to contemplate his options, though before he even says it, I know what he'll do.

“I'll do it.”

I can't fight the smirk that comes to my face as I shake his hand, a symbol of a good deal.

Once he's out of my sight I look down at the gold cloak against my back.

Fuck I could use a drink and a whore. I think before walking towards the most depraved parts of the city looking for a night to forget all I've lost, if only for one night.

Viserys Pov

After that ‘talk’ with my small council and the very long day I've had I knew when my head hit my pillow I'd be asleep.

All I saw for a while was darkness, I figured it was because I was still awake but then I saw a light far away and knew what was going on.

Not this blasted dream again! I thought as I stormed forward knowing what I'd find.

The throne room was dark, not a candle lit on the walls, but there was fourteen candles lit in front of the iron throne. They always seemed to dance, I swore if I moved closer I would hear the sounds of childlike giggles. Most are on their own, standing on their own candle sticks, but three have two prongs with two candles on the stand.

It's all the same, even those damned faces are still blurry! I think ready to turn around until I hear the booming voice of my Grandsire.

“You will stay, boy!” I feel my bones rattle just from the sheer force my Grandsire has spoken to me.

I now don't feel like a King, I feel like a little boy again being scolded for trying to steal a sweet…again.

“Why do you bring me here Grandsire? You have made me come to this room with its candles every night ever since my dear wife has passed! Well before that I was having this dream once a moon!” I cried out looking up and around me searching for my Grandsire.

“It is not our fault you are not Brave son. That you will not face what you already know.” I then hear my Father, the one man I always wished I could be, but Daemon has always been more like him than I'll ever be.

“What is there to see? Fourteen candles, two blurry faces on the throne? I've seen it! I understand I must have a son to put on the throne!” I sob out feeling their disappointment, their regret, knowing I'm far from the monarch they wished from me.

“Have you thought that perhaps if you moved closer the faces would be clear? Or are you that daft Viserys?” I hear their voice now combine, hear my fathers furious tone mixed with my Grandsires disappointment.

I shake my head but still listen to their advice. As I move forward I begin to hear the sounds of a woman giggling at something a man had said. Another step, and I can make out the woman's curls and theans long straight hair. One more and I see a gorgeous woman on my brother's lap, though it is not him that wears my crown but her.

The two of them stop their chatter, my brother is the first to turn to look at me.

“How lovely for you to finally join us dear brother, I was beginning to wonder if you ever would.” I teases with that smirk of hos that always make me want to punch him right in the lip.

That'll show him who's older still. I think with a smile before I leaves me and a pained gasp leaves me.

The woman has turned her head to look at me, I would have never recognized her if it weren't for those eyes. One of Lavender and one of Ice Blue, the ones I can not look at, the ones who only bring me pain.

“You know what you must do, Father. You always have.” You say but it is not your little voice, it is a woman's voice.

I wake with a gasp before turning and letting my dinner meet my chambers floor.

“You know what you must do, Father. You always have.” Those words keep running through my head as I try to catch my breath.

I have, haven't I?

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header for this fic, I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl @sachaa-ff

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sashayed · 2 years ago

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have you heard that jordan peele said steven yeun's character is the one that has the most in common with him. have you thought about how most of his cinematic career has been built around discussions of race and the traumas that come from racism. have you thought about how any media handling real and personal topics is a sort of emotional self-disembowelment on the part of the creator. have you thought of the glory and horror of being Seen. have you screamed

Have I? HAVE i. Have I thought about how Peele has discussed being objectified and tokenized on set, especially early in his career? Have I thought about what it's like to suffer real-life trauma in a space created for make-believe? Buddy, I haven't thought about anything else for days!!

I think one thing that makes this movie so visceral to me is that it's an exploration by a great popular artist on the human cost of making popular art. To me, the connection between Peele and Jupe is a link between the auteur and the cult leader — both are people consumed & defined by stories, people who are compelled by a narrative and feel an urge to spread that narrative to an audience.

And I am really impressed by how hard Peele seems to work to reject the cult leader in himself as best he can — to make art that enriches the lives of ALL THE PEOPLE WHO MAKE IT. Every interview is about how collaborative and present he is as a director. Obsessed with this Q&A for many reasons but this moment sticks with me:

KEKE PALMER: There would be moments where we’re going through different parts of this script, this story, from when we first rehearsed to when we were actually on set, or when we had an idea that happened that morning. I would be listening, my head would be down, I’d be listening to what Jordan’s saying, I’m like, man this is deep. And I look up and there’d be just this one little tear falling. Man, this brother’s deep. JORDAN PEELE: I’m not afraid to cry as a director. KP: And he’s chill! He’d be like, “That’s what happens” and tears are falling. I’m like, “Are you all right?” But he keeps going and he’s like “Yeah, yeah. So that’s the thing.” And then he just walks out.

To me, that reads as a person who is NOT JUST super smart and deep and creative etc but who is also aware every moment of how lucky he is to be doing what he's doing, and who is not ashamed of his own reaction to that gratitude. What's to be ashamed of? It's incredibly fun! He is having an amazing time! He's hanging out with people he likes and respects and coating actors with goop in the esophageal tube! What a job!

I wonder if, to be that thankful and that aware (and that collaborative), you have to have experienced the flip side; if you have to have been Jupe, at least for a little while. I wonder if the process of -- to some extent -- commodifying your own suffering (as capitalism practically demands that artists do in order to survive as artists) leads, almost inevitably, to a moment where you think, "I survived this horror and became a Star because I am the main character of reality: I am more special than other people, I have a special ability to communicate, I have a special destiny." That is a powerful story and a seductive one, but if you don't leave it behind, it will eat you and the people around you alive.

It seems to me like an extension of what Peele is exploring in Us--the notion that your contentment is entangled with someone else's suffering. Why you? Why not the person with all your qualities who for whatever reason never ended up where you are? Especially for creators with marginalized identities, right? "Am I occupying a space that should belong to someone else?" You can avoid that question by deciding that you have special individual qualities that make you the Chosen One, as Jupe does. Or you can accept that the question will always haunt you, that luck (LUCKY THE FINAL HORSE??) has no logic, and you try to spread your luck out and open your space up to as many other people as you can. Which you see Peele doing all the time! Gah!!

#NOPE 2022 #nope spoilers #art monsters!!#text #yg

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casanovawrites · 1 month ago

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random sentence prompts ━ from various tv shows, part 21

their greatest ambition is to hang out with you 24/7.

i needed you to understand who you’re dealing with.

i can play this game all year long. so do yourself a favor, leave me alone.

death is around every corner.

i have always done what is best for us.

you’re cute for a thief.

i liked you better before we had sex.

everyone’s always counting on you.

you have not seen my vengeance.

what would you know about what i want?

good can come out of even the darkest acts.

my frustration manifests emotionally.

all of a sudden, i just feel like you’re not gonna be the kind of girl i get along with.

i love watching you get yourself in trouble.

the world’s been trying to turn me into a monster for as long as i can remember.

has it ever occurred to you when you get what you want, you don’t seem to want it anymore?

are you still an asshole?

you’re gonna have to start over. start over with me.

when you’re really pissed off, you always find a project. something to keep your hands busy so you don’t punch someone in the face.

you’re not handling it. you’re lying to your friends.

right now, they’re thinking only one of us is scared.

you lit my fucking life on fire.

we all have battle scars. suck it up.

you were wrong. you said i’d be okay. and i’m not.

everything is falling apart, and i don’t know how to fix it.

the dead are gone. the living are hungry.

so what, you’re gonna save everybody but yourself?

who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things.

we’re not alone! you’re not alone.

i’m not weak, but i’m not like you.

you wanted to protect me. so you let me hate you?

people are always most alive just before they die, don’t you think?

it’s just another one of my bad decisions.

have some fun while you still can. you deserve it.

if you’re desperate enough, you’ll do things you never thought you were capable of doing.

don’t try to relate to me. you and i are nothing alike.

hurry up and save the world, right?

i’m not “keeping busy.” i’m keeping us alive.

you may be a huge pain in the ass, but you’re smart.

what else you got in that head of yours?

right now, i don’t feel like being around anyone i actually like.

every time we get closer to something, you find a way to blow it up.

you destroy everything good so you don’t have to feel any hurt, then you destroy everyone around you.

i’m running low on people i can trust.

i’d do more for you and worse.

let’s go kill something.

you are so fucking beautiful.

i won’t just sit there and watch you die.

i’d pick you first.

you should really rethink this whole hating me thing.

ever kill something before? who knows. maybe you’re good at it.

you love me more than anyone else ever has.

you’re really good at this, keeping me calm. saying the right thing.

we all have something bad in us.

it’s hard to call it love when one person’s lying the whole time.

i don’t wanna run. i want to be here, with you.

i think you decided who you want to be, and you dared the world to see you. i saw you.

you overlook a lot when you’re in love.

close your mouth, shut the fuck up, let’s get a drink.

sorry, i did a fellowship in cynicism.

you think i’m not really in love? or do you think no one can love me?

it’s 9 am, you’re already bumming me out.

you’re like having a kid i never wanted.

sometimes i come on too strong. it’s a defense mechanism against insecurity.

i want us to get along. i want us to be friends.

unfortunately, my mother is gonna live forever.

in case you didn’t realize, i use sarcasm and comedy as a shield. or so i’ve been told.

don’t forget what brought you here in the first place.

i try to love. every time, it falls apart.

people are happier when they’re not lying to themselves and everyone else.

you were never nice. you were just afraid to be mean.

you’re mistaking me for someone who cares.

if you’re looking for someone to talk you down, tell you that you’re just upset and not thinking straight, i’m not that person.

if you need forgiveness, i’ll give that to you. you’re forgiven.

i’m not willing to lose you. i’m better when you’re with me.

in this world, when people leave, they don't come back.

why do you get to decide it's over?

#sentence prompts #rp sentence prompts #rp one liners #one liners #one liner sentence starters #rp ask meme #ask meme #meme #*

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sootmemes · 10 months ago

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SENTENCE STARTERS: LYRICS THAT HIT ME IN THE FEELS [PT. 2] change words as needed ! ctrl + shift + v to paste into the inbox on desktop.

❝ vengeance is the only drug, and I can't get enough. ❞

❝ I don't know euphoria; would like to meet her someday. ❞

❝ now I'm just covered in the dirty blood of man. ❞

❝ I'd talk myself down if I knew what to say. ❞

❝ nobody tells you 'til you go up in flames that you can't live like a devil and die like a saint. ❞

❝ well, the trick of the trouble is avoiding the blame. ❞

❝ I'm alive, I'm revived, I survived, you surprised ? ❞

❝ if this was meant for me, why does it hurt so much ? ❞

❝ let me tell you from a dead mans point of view: live your life, because when its done you don't get another one. when they sing for you don't let them sing the blues. ❞

❝ what they don't understand, they condemn. what they can't comprehend must meet its end. ❞

❝ sometimes I feel like I'm a mockingbird, mimicking the songs that I've already heard. ❞

❝ nurse, sinner, virgin, bitch... I am the vengeful child of the witch. ❞

❝ you played my game. hell, now you're a piece in it. ❞

❝ but then if you're so smart tell me, why are you still so afraid ? ❞

❝ slow down, you're doing fine. you can't be everything you want to be before your time. ❞

❝ though you can see when you're wrong, you know you can't always see when you're right. ❞

❝ you got your passion, you got your pride, but don't you know that only fools are satisfied ?❞

❝ crazy is, I believe, the medical term for when we want to recover but don't want to learn. ❞

❝ if we want to wake up, why are we still singing these lullabies ? ❞

❝ its so convenient to lose the truth when its laughing in your face ❞

❝ I'm still living in a knife fight, living like a bad guy ❞

❝ no point in stressing, we're not impressing them anymore ❞

❝ cardboard is boring, look how it burns ❞

❝ I keep lighting little fires to feel something, to get burned ❞

❝ life cuts deep; let me help pick up the pieces ❞

❝ you know I hate to say it, but, "I told you so" ❞

❝ if you were easy to kill, I would have done it already. ❞

❝ if I was easy to kill, you would have done it already. ❞

❝ I used to dread the thought of falling quickly. ❞

❝ there's this tune I found that makes me think of you somehow, and I play it on repeat. ❞

❝ nights were mainly made for sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day. ❞

❝ I'm a scholar and gentleman, and I usually don't fall when I try to stand. ❞

❝ all the daises that you picked are dead; you're better off just picking fights instead. ❞

❝ turn the page, look back at what you wrote; do you still feel the same ? I bet your mind has changed. ❞

❝ we're all gonna die we just don't know when; lets make the most of the time that we got left. ❞

❝ worlds on fire, lets toast the end. ❞

❝ I wanna scream into the night: I'm alive, I'm alive ! ❞

❝ it shouldn't be surprising how we're living like we're dying. ❞

part two to this meme. also here is a playlist based on these prompts ♡

#sentence starters #sentence prompts #sentence meme #ask prompt #ask meme #roleplay meme #rp meme #° prompt !

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whereispearlescentmoon · 6 months ago

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I am really loving your deep, philosophical look at the characters in the life series, such as the one you did for Cleo and here loyalty and love for her allies. Could you perhaps do one for Mumbo?

So I actually hadn’t watched Mumbo’s pov of anything but Secret Life and a bit of Wild Life but I’m sick and you asked very nicely so I decided to watch some of his Last Life to answer this lol.

The thing about Mumbo that I love is that he is so afraid all the time. And I’m not saying as an insult, it’s just the truth. Of everyone in the series he (and Lizzie) feels the most like a person who was dropped into a death game that, and this is crucial, he knows he won’t win. Not to bash Mumbo’s skill, but he’s not good at PVP, and he’s not great at keeping himself alive. Neither of those things bode well for his survival and he knows that. So he spends the whole time afraid. But what he lacks in skill, he makes up for in smarts.

One of the first things he says in Last Life is that he’s A) Completely terrified and B) Bad at surviving in Minecraft. He’s determined to survive on the merit of his redstone skills, but unfortunately, brains can only get you so far when when you’re being chased down by someone. He looses two lives in his second episode, one right after very triumphantly killing Joel with only a stone axe, because even when he does something cool we must be reminded that he’s kind of pathetic. Every time the boogeyman was chosen, he would hide in fear for a little bit, unsure if he could trust anyone. He’s extremely jumpy. In episode two he gets genuinely startled by items coming up after he places a block on them. And like, he can’t really because for his first season he teamed up with people who actually took the whole “red names cant have alliances unless the other people are red and boogeymen lose all alliances” seriously. Hence the whole “join me” thing with Grian. If paranoia was a person, it would be Last Life Mumbo.

His secret life series is probably the best example of him driven by fear and the knowledge that he probably won’t win. Like, he was paranoid in Last Life, but there was almost a resignation to the fact that he wouldn’t win. In Secret Life, he’s really really trying. But no one else believes him, which only makes him more frantic to prove that he can be good at this. For example, Pearl, despite being his ally, dedicates herself to Bdubs and Joel (and later Scar) winning, but not him. And the second he goes red, when things start going really wrong, he falls apart completely. He panics, like he always does, and flails. And most importantly, he still holds true to the old Last Life rule that reds don’t have allies anymore, hence why he tries to kill Pearl. He can’t get any kills, he’s running around like a chicken without its head. And he dies to a stupid joke he set up himself.

And then the best way to prove that he ends up taking himself out by panicking is Wild Life. First, yes, he does die to a failed trap he himself set up which is funny for the guy who relies on his redstone to succeed in the series. But then when he comes back as a zombie and has no fear of dying, he actually gets a decent number of kills? Like, if he would just take Natasha Bedingfield’s advice and release his inhibitions, he could feel the rain (victory) on his skin.

#mumbo jumbo #or is it #mumbojumbo #I can’t remember how I usually tag him rn #sorry if you wanted more I’m just not as insane about Mumbo as I am about Cleo #I did my best tho #last life smp #secret life smp #wild life smp

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deuxcherise · 4 months ago

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Roses Are Green Pt. 1

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere sub(?) male oc x dom(?) female reader, reader is kind of physical with people, reader is op, displays of aggression, lore

A/n: So it’s March, and to me, March is green. And it's been a while, so hi~ I came back with an old oc I’ve written once before (check out Look At Me). This kind of expands on that universe. And because it was so long, I’ve broken it into two parts.

Masterlist | Part 1/2 (you're here!), Part 2/2

It’s not every day a war criminal gets accepted back into the official family register after having waged war with the country. Much less receive both the perks and responsibilities of being part of the royal family.

“Princess, even if no one has the stupidity of retaliating, I suggest you keep up a polite appearance at least.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “You’re the last person I want to hear that from, Teacher. You’re probably the only one who can slap the back of my head in front of an audience and get away with it.” You hum thoughtfully. “Maybe I should have you thrown in the dungeon right away, for how much you get away with.”

Your governess places the flat and heel of a clean boot against your low back and tugs on the strings of your corset, nearly knocking the wind from you from the sudden squeeze of your midsection. Out of mischief, no less, from her chuckle. Just as quickly, she takes back her foot and slightly loosens the strings.

“Are you trying to kill me? It’s much too late to do that now, you know?” you comment.

She laughs as she adjusts the strings. “Now now, firstly I would never hit you in front of others. Though, I won’t deny there is an intense urge to do so. Perhaps when I am older and have a foot at death’s door, then I will.” She finishes tying the strings. “And please. If this kills you out of everything else, I shall consider myself a demon most fearsome.”

“How ever do you mean? Aren’t you already one?”

She clicks her tongue as she places all of the other layers on, while you snicker in response. She then has you sit down to prepare your hair and makeup. “Now, how shall we hide those lines?”

The lines which she refers to are the cracks that seem to flow from your bottom eyelid, resembling trails left behind from tears. They no longer hurt, but they’ll never fully heal.

You shake your head. “I have no shame in them. Leave them be.”

She shrugs. “Alright.” She powders your face, pausing for a moment. “If you were to stand very still and hold your breath, anyone who didn’t know any better would believe you to be a very large and realistic porcelain doll.”

You smile and raise your brow. “Do you think that’ll scare him off?”

She tilts her head from side to side contemplatively, as she applies blush. “If he’s smart, he’ll know running away isn’t an option.”

In the mirror, your smile dissipates as you look downwards. “Right...”

Once she has finished preparing you, you plaster on the most unhinged grin everyone knows you for. You and your governess then head into the main hall, where your most anticipated guest is already waiting, along with his parents and your best friend, at the bottom of the stairs.

Your eyes are trained on the man, the unfortunate one has been sent to your cage to be eaten alive. He wears a suit that you haven’t seen him in before. It is new and as proper as one can afford given his family’s status. He has styled his green hair this time, brushed back for a proper appearance, though a few strands rebelliously hang over his forehead. Just as you’ve seen before, his lips are pinker than his skin, and his nose sits on his face very nicely. What captivates you the most are his golden eyes, as they meet yours for the first time. They do not shine at all despite their color, yet it is coupled with a smile. You know what face means.

What a cold expression.

“Do not be afraid,” your governess whispers near your ear.

“Oh, I’m not the one who wants to run away,” you whisper back as you lift up your chin and descend the stairs to meet them at their level.

“Baron and Baroness Nightshade,” you greet the older adults, adding a twinge to your voice. “Thank you so much for being here. So glad to see you all~”

They shakily bow and curtsy, though their son does so perfectly and relaxed. “A-as to you, your highness,” replied Baron Nightshade. Similar to their son, his father has a darker shade of green hair the Nightshade family is known for while his mother has plum-like shade to hers. Fitting.

You turn to the other lady, whose hair is more like a yellow green version of her relatives. “Lily. You as well. Thank you~”

“Of course~!”

You look up and down Lily, with a raised brow. “And where’s my curtsy?”

Lillian flips her hair haughtily. “Hah! And where’s my title? Not ‘Lady’ Lily? Not ‘My Bestie’ Lily? Wow.”

You throw your head back and laugh heartily, before immediately silencing yourself as you eye the family with an expression of a hungry lion. “Now, which one of you is supposed to be my dearest fiancé, hm?”

“Y-yes. Your highness,” Baron Nightshade begins, keeping his head down, “ M-my wife and I would like to f-formally introduce to you my first and only born, Naoki Nightshade.”

Naoki bows again, standing back up straight with the most excited smile coupled with the most chasm-like eyes ever. “It is an honor and my utmost pleasure to formally meet you, your highness. I am Naoki Nightshade, heir to the Nighshade family. I look forward to our engagement.”

Liar.

You relax your face slightly as you find him meeting your eyes without hesitation, unlike most people. Whether it is out of fear or unabashed confidence, he clearly doesn’t want to be here at all. Just like you. No matter.

You throw on another expression, one that resembles a haughty customer assessing a product on the shelf, as you take a step towards him. You grab him by the chin, causing muffled gasps from his parents, and tilt his face this way and that way, much to his surprise by the widening of his eyes. You release his chin to grab a handful of his hair and ruffle it, messing up their neat placement. You quite like the texture of his hair actually. You then take both his cheeks and squish them. Despite his angular features, his cheeks have quite the cushion. All the while, he allows you to do these uncomfortable things without moving or making a sound.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you find his helpless parents looking in horror while Lily hides her giggles behind a gloved hand. You release Naoki from your torture with a satisfied smile.

“I suppose I’ll accept this engagement. I think you and I will get along, very nicely~” You clap your hands together childishly, before throwing on a smirk as you trace a finger along his jawline. “Especially when it comes to making children~”

The Baron and Baroness clear their throats out of discomfort and clap as they pretend to be happy for their son. Naoki doesn’t make any reaction at all either, only nodding with that plastered smile of his.

You wave a hand to dismiss everyone but your fiancé, which his parents happily take with a bow and curtsy. Lily waves goodbye as she follows them. You smile brilliantly at Naoki, whose expression doesn’t change even though he’s been abandoned.

Will you survive being with me?

-----🫐-----

CRASHHH!

A thrown glass shatters into a million pieces, splattering the red liquid in it all over the ground. You stand there with your hand outstretched, and a bored pout on your face. Gasps erupt from the crowd around you and the person who offended you.

“I thought a duke would provide the best wine in his party, knowing a member of the royal family would be attending. Yet, it was the worst wine I have ever tasted. I can’t believe you would dare serve this to me,” you huff.

Duke Alavise stutters, “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, your highness! I-I-I shall bring out another bottle from my curated collection. I guran-”

“Don’t bother,” you disregard him, with a flick of your hand. “My tastebuds have already been sullied.. My fiancé and I will be heading home and enjoying my own collection of wine. Hmph! Let’s go!”

You grab onto Naoki’s arm, and begin leading him towards the door. He doesn’t put up any resistance whatsoever, but you can tell behind his neutral expression that he didn’t exactly want to go home with you.

“W-wait- I-”

You shoot a glare at the duke. “Are you telling me what to do?”

The duke immediately looks towards the ground. “N-no, of course not.”

You smirk. “Good.” Then you and your fiancé exit out of the mansion and enter into your carriage. There you sit across from each other and you lean against the side to close your eyes as the carriage heads home.

“Um…”

You open up your eyes to see Naoki playing with his fingers. “Hm?”

“Um, why do you…”

“Spit it out.” You hope he’ll be honest this time.

He shakes his head. “N-nothing. I was simply amazed by his audacity! To think he could serve you subpar wine and get away with it. He doesn’t seem very intelligent at all,” Naoki spills out rapidly. “Good thing you showed him!”

There it is again. The gushing. The sucking up. You had seen him enjoying the wine just minutes prior to you tossing that glass. Truth be told, that duke’s wine was one of the best wines in the country, almost on par with the royal family’s. A man of Naoki’s status, the son of a baron, would have had no experience with knowing the difference between adequate and excellent wine… Then again, Naoki is part of the Nightshade family, and they are known for their gardening magic. Would he know the difference?

Regardless, the duke simply irritated you. You had been enjoying watching your lower-class husband-to-be enjoying something luxurious, only for the duke to decide that it was alright to snarkily comment on Naoki’s status and how people like him were experts at licking the undersides of peoples’ boots. What a jerk. Now that you’ve disgraced the duke, as a member of the royal family regardless of your reputation, his stocks will fail tremendously and you hope that he’ll eventually come to learn what being at the bottom of an abyss feels like.

Your wicked smile makes Naoki question the cause of it.

“Well~ The royal family’s wine has always been the best, so I’m looking forward to it,” you cover up. “You should be looking forward to it too, since it’ll be your first time tasting it. You’ll see the difference in quality and understand.”

“I- I see!” he stutters before composing himself. “I’m glad. I look forward to trying it with you.”

Behind your smile, you chew on your cheek. All of these cringy lines… How does he not tire of them? Maybe it’s fun? Should you try it out?

You giggle. “Even though I haven’t drunken any wine, I already feel drunk when I’m with you~”

He laughs, though it sounds hollow.

On second thought, maybe you shouldn’t say any more cringy lines. Especially when you don’t mean those things at all. How does he do it so easily?

-----🫐-----

You fold your arms and cross your legs, a smirk on your face. “Tell me, pet,” you throw at him. “What are your talents? What are you good at?”

You figured after a month or so of playing the evil villainess everyone knows you for and yet he’s still alive and well, it was time to actually get to know your fiancé properly. And for him to get to know you.

He sits upright in his chair across your tea table, hands on his lap. His face looks tired from holding up the same happy expression for the past hour, but his insistence in maintaining this facade is admirable.

“A-as I’m sure you’re aware from my cousin, Lillian Vallar,” he starts hastily, “We all possess the power to create and manipulate plants. I myself am adept at producing vegetables in particular, but I can produce flowers just the same. Normal ones.”

He showcases by producing a rose in his hand towards you. You gladly take it with a grin, and twirl it between two fingers. No thorns, that’s nice. Though, internally you think this is probably the most cliche flower he could have chosen.

“I believe I will be most helpful when it comes to the empire’s agriculture! I am also great at housework, and I know how to cook. Oh, but I promise I will make you the happiest woman in the world!”

You don’t say it, but you can tell he’s trying to sell you his ability to ensure his safety. It’s a bit cute, like a puppy doing tricks in a pet store to get adopted. However, perhaps a change in topic may be in order to really test his conversational skills.

You make a gesture towards one of the maids to prepare and pour the tea. After four agonizing minutes of brewing— for him that is, not you— your teacups are full of piping hot tea. You pick it up and bring it towards your lips, but not before asking, “It has been a while but now that we’ve gotten to know each other, would you prefer it if I called you Naoki or Mr. Nightshade?”

He’s at a loss for words for the first time. “I…” He quickly composes himself, evidence of his training. “I have no preference. Please call me as you wish.”

You nod. “Alright. While in public, I’ll call you ‘my fiancé’ or ‘my love’ or ‘my pet’ or whatever as per usual. In private, I shall address you as Naoki. Will that be alright?”

He slowly nods. “Oh… Yes.”

With a little movement of your arm, you watch with amusement as the liquid in your cup shifts in a circular motion. “Then Naoki, be honest.” You take a sip before making eye contact, causing him to flinch with the intensity of your gaze. “What do you think of me?”

You can spot his eyes widening just a fraction before he begins to spout another practiced line. “Stop,” you command, narrowing your eyes. “I said, be honest.”

Caught off guard, his eyes bulge out in panic. “W-what? I don’t-”

You tilt your head with a sigh. “I know you’re afraid of me. Given my reputation, who wouldn’t? Tell me. Do you really want this marriage?”

He blinks, clearly conflicted but not wanting to say anything that could ruin this arrangement. At least, on his part. “I…”

“You do not want this marriage,” you say for him.

His lack of retort confirms your statement. He’s smart enough not to try too.

He won’t talk back, that much is for certain, though you can see the thoughts running behind his eyes. It would be nice to bring his inner self out, but for the sake of this marriage working, you believe it best to keep things distant and orderly. You have had enough chaos to last a lifetime.

You make a small noise of understanding, the corners of your mouth curving upward gently. “I also do not want this marriage either.”

You hear him gasp. “I-”

“Do not worry,” you cut him off, taking another sip. “I do not intend on breaking this engagement. Go on and drink your tea before it gets cold.”

He takes his teacup but he seems too nervous to drink it.

“Please, feel at ease with me. I will not make you do anything uncomfortable… unless we are in public in which we will need to keep up appearances,” you tell him.

“...Okay.”

He agrees and finally drinks his tea, but his tone says he doesn’t believe you. Understandable. You purse your lips, mulling over various things you’ve heard of that have made men with cold feet comfortable. You take a roll of the wheel and settle for a particular line.

“Even when we are married, you are free to take any lovers if you’d like.”

He spits out his tea.

You ignore it, suppressing your giggle from finally getting a proper reaction out of him. You add, “I promise I won’t punish you, but I will expect you to be aware of our reputations, of course.”

At this, he forgets his manners and slams down his tea before getting up from his seat, his chair scraping the floor with a terrible sound. You flash him a glare, considering he made you almost spill your tea, but surprisingly he does not falter.

“I-I am not an indecent man!” he declares, his soft voice not nearly loud enough to constitute him as yelling.

You raise a brow before you raise a hand and push down the air, forcing him back into his seat with an invisible magic and shifting his chair back in. “I didn’t say you were an indecent man. I am just allowing you freedom to love.”

He shakes his head, still troubled. “I won’t be unfaithful in this marriage.”

You purse your lips. He seems like the uptight follow-the-rules-kind of person. If you were a more cruel woman, perhaps you might allow your instincts to take over and really give him something to cry about. Shouldn’t he know to shut up and be happy with the opportunities you’ve given him? Or perhaps he’s just keeping up appearances to keep in your good graces? Hm.

“Alright. Do as you like.” You shrug. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“T-that’s– W-will that-” He composes himself and regards you with concerned curiosity behind a neutral face. “Will that apply to you as well?”

“What? Taking on a lover?”

He nods.

You shake your head. “To tell you the truth, personally, I’m not interested in marriage. Or children. So you do not have to worry about me jumping you the moment we’re alone, or causing any scandals that’ll mess with your family’s reputation— Everyone already knows me to be mad anyway, so it’ll only reflect badly on me.” You place down your tea cup and intertwine your fingers. “But I am not interested in having any affairs or relationships in the first place. Any other questions?”

His Adam’s apple bobs when he nods, breaking eye contact. “I… I didn’t realize that you were…”

“Calm? Somber? Sane?” you suggest.

“No- I... Well… I am curious as to why you’re accepting this engagement so easily, given our difference in statuses?”

You lower your gaze towards the remaining drops of tea in your teacup. It irritates you how easy it would be to destroy him, to torture him. The son of a mere baron. Slightly higher than commoners but so, so, so much lower than everyone else. If you wanted to hang him out in the open and let the birds peck at him, no one would dare go against you. And on top of that, both of you don’t seem like a match at all, considering his doormat of a personality so far.

You meet his eyes. “You understand what you’re benefitting from this marriage, yes?”

He hesitantly nods.

“Good.” You untwine your hands and take a pastry off of the pastry tower gently with your fingers. “Mm. If- When you marry me, your family receives high favor from the court and in turn, gains a higher status from being linked to the royal family. This is especially so since you are their only child,” you state it out loud as you place that pastry onto his plate. “As for me…”

You wave a hand and magically a pastry from the tower begins to float. You scoff. “What the royal family- or rather the court, more importantly, is interested in is marrying off the heir, my youngest brother as everyone knows…” You twirl a finger and the pastry rotates mid-air. “But unfortunately in this country, first borns must be married off first. And since I am that, well, it doesn’t matter who I get married to. It doesn’t matter what I’m interested in.”

You let the pastry crash onto your plate. “What the court is interested in is that I am taken off the market as quickly as possible, so that they can leave their sweet sons to be safely married off to the eligible ladies and produce more heirs for their meager bloodlines. That is why this engagement was allowed to happen at all… ” You tilt your head side to side contemplatively before adding, “And you have your cousin to thank. I don’t mind having her as my in-law.”

“That’s… But you could…”

You smirk as you pick up and slightly squeeze your pastry, taking delight in the way the flaky exterior crunches. “I could just do what I want, sure, but I wouldn’t gain anything.” You rip off a piece of the pastry and pop it into your mouth. “I’m tired, so I’m settling down. You should be happy, since you’re the one benefiting the most out of this situation.”

“.....”

You sigh. “Don’t pity me. I do benefit from this. As long as you do not cause trouble for me and play your part, you are free to do as you please. I only wish for peace and to be left alone.”

“O-oh…”

“Oh, and I do apologize if I have broken any dreams of yours of being married to the love of your life,” you say, seeing a troubled expression on his face. “But like I’ve said, you are free to take on a lover. It’s not like the court will expect you to be anything better than a commoner.”

His eyes flash as he slams his hands against the table. “I won’t!”

You laugh. “Okay, okay. I get it.”

What a relief it is to finally get to be yourself, and what an adorable puppy you have.

#royalty #arranged marriage #op reader #jealousy #yandere #soft yandere #yandere male #yandere male oc #male x female #fem reader #deuxcherise writes

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violentdelightshavevioletends · 6 months ago

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Processing through Fourth Wing's Ending thoughts with me Part 4 with SPOILERS!!! (& other 3 post summaries + some Iron Flame theories)

So:

I think Xaden is gonna have a long journey in winning Violet back (as he should, she deserves to be fought for & respected in boundaries). Though it’s also a little hard to watch knowing where this all comes from & it’s a little mixed up/misdirected.

Speaking of misdirection Dain Aetos has some explaining to do, unless I read that wrong; if he intentionally sent Violet & Liam off to their deaths thanks to his betrayal… nope. No.

I am utterly destroyed over Liam & dreading the aftershocks of it… meeting his sister is going to make me cry & I will protect that baby with my life.

Brennan also has some explaining to do, backstory to give, etc.

So mostly I’m ruined and this book is gonna ruin me even more and then it’ll be time to cry with Onyx Storm… so… yeahhh

I am dying to know what the deal is with Lilith Sorrengail… she can’t truly have meant to get her children killed can she? Is she a part of the rebellion somehow? And what was the deal with Violet’s dad? Plus a lesser but still prominent question: what does Mira know? I get the feeling it’s not much… but I am curious all things considered how many more secrets that family holds.

Violet included in the latter as I wonder if the poison affected her memory, powers, etc. it seemed to be a different situation (to the level I was worried she’d turn Venin or something). Have her powers changed with Andarna growing? — WHY DID ANDARNA GROW? How long was she asleep for? What does that make the powers now? … also morbid question I don’t want the answer to but have a fear of learning: if Tairn dies could Andarna keep Violet alive?.. I just have a bad feeling about one of her dragons all things considered. — I’m just scared of who’s going to die next book since clearly they are not afraid to kill the ones I love.

Not important, probably fine, but how’s Rhi? I miss my bestie girl… where is she? What’s up babe? Will I get my crew back? Please tell me she and Riddoc did no betraying.😅😅

And of course between characters and secrets and the final chapter being Xaden’s perspective: what are the many stories he has yet to tell? What’s the deal with his mom? What’s all those one line mentions of things to catch Violet up on?.. please tell me we resume in time so it’s not 5 chapter of brief references & 0 explanations?

I have a bad feeling the robed Venin are someone we know or a bigger deal… also probably Dain’s dad being evil… and some big horrible betrayal upcoming and hurting my babies so not looking forward to that.

Mostly it’ll be fun to see what another year looks like… especially when Xaden graduates… and is tethered to Violet who is going to probably hate him & fill the book with angst… so I’m gonna have to strap in for a bump ride I suppose. We shall see! And no spoilers please these questions are rhetorical/hypothetical😂 though if anything happens to Liam’s little sister give me a heads up please🙃

Finally, in review of the first book:

I love Violet. Her heart is her first power, I love the brave fierce way she loves, and has a true compass for goodness… the way she didn’t blink at rebellion if it was right; she processed that extraordinarily fast & it says a lot as to her as a character. I love her wit, which is honestly awe striking and a superpower in itself and we just LOVE a smart heroine. She is also an awesome representation for the EDS/Chronic Illness community and FMC’s in general, which I greatly appreciated (especially for how relatable she managed to be not only for the disability community, but young identifying women who get called “crazy” or “not believed”, kids who are bullied (though this book is not for kids😅😂) and just generally speaking esp. for being fantasy fiction… she’s funny, she’s a mood, and her POV was great).

On the note of representation: I also loved the way they did adaptations (such as the saddle for example: because she did the work, and it’s just not accessible, so why not make it functional? The debate she has of using it or not resembles conversations I’ve had with many people when it comes to mobility aids, they worry about people seeing, about people thinking them less capable, about the mentality of “power through it” when really it makes more sense just to use the help you have when you need it… it’s not an act of weakness or lesser). The way Rhi even tries to compliment it, to encourage her, and the agency it still gives Tairn & even Andarna, who’s a friggin time-stopping dragon (she’s certainly not weak even if she is not as “strong”—not the word I’m looking for as the other dragons, she’s still a dragon) and she too uses the help!

And the dynamics they have within chronic illness relationships… from the over-protective: I CAN DO IT ON MY OWN many people end up with in siblings & previous caregivers. To the truth that there are some things you cannot do on your own and that’s okay even if your never okay with it. To the way Xaden not once thinks less of Violet for it or gives her special treatment; he is fair to each of them (well as fair as Xaden can be amid murder school). Or the way Dain’s comfort quickly turns into a stinging degradation even if it’s well-meaning & frankly valid (she may very well get herself killed there, he’s not wrong; but he also could, and she could die just as easily getting sent back) it’s her choice, and she does a damn good job honestly. And they try to give agency to Violet in that where they can and I appreciated that.

I love Tairn a lot, especially in character dynamics like his humor & protective affection for Violet in reminding her she is worthy & also please don’t die. He loves a lot, especially for such a “scary, tough” dragon. There’s a strength to that sort of love. And of course Andarna who is a fierce, brave, loving, joyous, other half to Violet’s soul… how could you not love her?

Xaden managed to avoid some very frequent and infuriating YA love interest tropes that I appreciated and while I won’t claim him to be “perfect” (because I know all YA novels have a problem if we’re gonna make it real world) but for the sake of character I actually found him to be not only attractive, intriguing, and entertaining as the classic “rebellious, bad boy, enemies to lovers, angsty brooding burdened softy” but also empowering, fiercely loving, protective but not stifling, and some strong standing points that are needed such as consent, or the why as to how he cares for people. He’s got good reasoning. He’s not needlessly cruel. He also has a cause he is a rebel with a cause, and not some nonsensical brooding, no he has reason. Generally I found him interesting & entertaining without being infuriating. And while he has his issues he’s a very young guy kinda issues? Idk the right way to put it. But I do think him and Violet with trust, and no “forced bodyguard” situations have the potential to be a really awesome couple. I mean he’s pretty much a shadow boi… like it’s fairly simple😂 and she’s the sunny & stormy trope. So, of course I’m an absolute idiot for him and find them sweet.

Also thanks for making the best friend bi! And if I’m correct some non-binary characters too! This book did a good job at trying to give some more representation. And managed to go beyond the basics of YA novels.

Overall it made me laugh it made me cry, I’m not calling it the perfect book but minus killing off one of my favorite characters it was a lot of fun and I look forward to the next one and think this will definitely be a favorite series of all time. And while I’ll process for fuller reviews (not that this isn’t already obnoxiously long). I really enjoyed this one a LOT!

So, off to Iron Flame with our theories, feels, and thoughts we go! Wish me luck! And we’re almost to Onyx Storm so yay for all you long-term fans!

(Should I read slow to avoid waiting a few days inbetween? I’m worried for a cliff-hanger😂)

Oh, and because he deserves to be in here: Yes, Liam was a favorite from day one. He always will be. He was just genuinely good, easy to like, funny, entertaining in his conversations to everyone, depth to the feelings it brought he added layers to many stories, he was kind and loyal… so loyal… somehow even to Violet, even with the lies, he was a good friend and he loved them all a lot. And more than just brawn (though also he was described to be a total heartthrob) he was also smart! And he learned sign language which I always love as someone who grew up speaking ASL for my sisters… he was the best of his class, and frankly just deserved a lot more. Watch Deigh & then him die broke me and I really thought they’d find a way out of it because he just loved his friends so much.😭 And I hate that this is gonna be the pain of the next book… it’s a little too personal for me right now in my own real life with holiday grief & stuff so I totally bawled like a baby… and the fact he said he just wanted to be alive, and see his sister… yeah-not-okay-enough to write this. I shall miss our sweet bb blonde wood carver boi.

Okay, time to go be basic: fall for the shadow guy, root for the FMC & project my life onto her, feel all the ship angst, cry for the fictional sweetheart, & totally fall for whatever the writes me to like/hate & guiltily forgive/hold onto…

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notmorbid · 9 months ago

Text

...best american short stories.

dialogue prompts from 100 years of the best american short stories, edited by lorrie moore and heidi pitlor.

death-bed promises should be broken as lightly as they are seriously made.

the dead have no right to lay their clammy fingers upon the living.

if you're going to snore, go to bed!

you look as if you'd seen a ghost or found a gold mine. i don't know which.

i don't expect to marry anybody.

don't ever bet on anything.

i didn’t realize it, but the days came along one after another, and then two years were gone, and everything was gone, and i was gone.

we've suffered like everybody, but on the whole it's a good deal pleasanter.

we were a sort of royalty, almost infallible, with a sort of magic around us.

i should think you'd have had enough of bars.

don't you want a cocktail before dinner?

i want to get to know you.

i don't really need much taking care of anymore.

i don't want you to forget.

have you got a picture of ___?

family quarrels are bitter things. they don't go according to rules.

i was caught in a trap. it wasn't set for me, but it got me all the same.

you wanted a story, so i gave you a good one.

write me a letter. don't forget. i'll be waiting.

my dreams never renege on me. they're all i have to go by.

i don't put the respect on dreams i once did.

are you sure nobody knows where i am?

i don't see why you should ever be afraid of anything.

you know i'd take care of you if anything ever happened, don't you?

don't go away. stay and talk.

you don't have to worry, you know. i wouldn't ever let anything happen to you.

i wish you wouldn't look so unhappy.

i didn't think you saw me. not at first.

how can you get away from anything here?

we're all human on earth.

we couldn't get away from each other if we tried.

i don't want to do a thing from now on till evermore.

sometimes there are about fifteen or twenty minutes in the week when i feel like myself.

i thought it might make you happy. i wanted to make you happy.

and what if they can hear us? who cares?

i thought you were too smart to get hung.

i swear if i'd known what i was doing i would have never hurt you so.

maybe it does some good if you believe it.

i hope you'll remember the things i tried to teach you.

honey, there's a lot that you don't know. but you are going to find it out.

don't you forget what i told you, you hear?

i think people ought to do what they want to do. what else are they alive for?

i can't forget where i've been, and what i've been.

i can't really talk about it. not to you, not to anybody.

don't be a martyr.

with the world in the mess it's in, it's a wonder we can enjoy anything.

if you know who you are, you can go anywhere.

buck up. it won't kill you.

i wish you'd talk to me.

don't you ever want to rest?

i think death is a wonderful thing. i look forward to it.

what tone? i didn't take any tone.

you give everyone too much. that's your trouble.

mad at me, huh?

i don't know why i did it. i'm sorry for it, isn't that enough?

god listened and didn't say yes or no.

you should have gone after them with an ax.

you've been lucky. you always have been.

i bet you're afraid of me.

why aren't you married? you're not ugly. are you gay or something?

how nice. you always try to say the right thing.

you can't seem to keep your mind on one thing for more than a minute at a time.

it's not exactly the kind of thing you can bring up over lunch.

can you keep a secret about what i did today?

i thought when i left, it would just go away.

i want more days like that.

you don't have a heart. there's nothing to love in you.

would you tell me something if i asked you? would you tell me the truth?

other people's dreams are boring.

two salaries and no kids, that's the way to go.

i always seem to miss you.

i don't think i'll ever be dead enough --- or dead long enough --- to get the taste of this life off my teeth.

your optimism always surprises me.

pick on someone your own size.

promise you won't get mad?

i could yell at you, but why waste my breath?

better late than never. i was sure i'd see you someday.

you're a regular whirling dervish.

i don't watch tv. i don't own one.

how do you connect with the rest of the world?

did you like growing up there?

i don't usually say stuff like that.

i've been getting these mixed signals from you. i can't tell if you're attracted to me or not.

you don't have to love me. i love you enough for both of us.

group sex is for teenagers.

i think our hopes are made when we are young, and we can never adjust them to the real world.

how long can you use your parents as an excuse?

a life is like a house. one has to plan carefully where all the furniture will go.

mr. grief and i went a few rounds.

if you think about fear, then you'll be afraid.

i want to be a hero, you know?

you can always trust unhappiness.

i will keep coming until you speak to me.

what brings you here after all these years?

can i hug you? i'd really like to give you a hug.

i worried about you the whole time.

i wanted to be with you all the time.

the moment you fall in love with someone, you are lost.

i had to let you make your own mistakes.

#rp meme #sentence starters #rp memes #inbox memes #ask memes #ask meme #historical meme

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frailowl · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter Two- Teeth and Blood

cw: mild depictions of violence

1983

The cell did not change, but Aris did.

She counted the hours by the torches—how long they burned, how quickly they were replaced. She tracked the guards’ footsteps: four shifts, six guards total. Two liked to speak. One whistled when nervous. The youngest was terrified of her.

Smart girl.

The others weren’t.

They slid food into her cell once a day—thick meat, too raw to be proper. Once, it was still warm. She didn’t ask where it came from.

She ate without complaint. She needed strength. She needed clarity.

She needed patience.

Pain she could endure. She had lived through worse. But it was the silence that taught her how to listen.

The first time Alcina returned after the dungeon drop, Aris didn’t rise.

The Countess stood at the bars in her usual ivory and disdain, but there was something in her stance—curiosity wrapped in caution.

“Still alive,” Alcina murmured. “I thought perhaps you’d throw yourself at the walls by now. Or at least howl.”

Aris sat cross-legged in the corner, eyes open, watching, calculating.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Alcina's brow lifted. “You eat. You sleep. But you don't shift. Why?”

Aris didn’t answer immediately. Then:

“You’d like it if I did, wouldn’t you? Want me to snap and growl like the mutt you think I am?”

Alcina smiled coldly. “It would confirm you’re still dangerous. That you’re still worth something.”

Aris shifted her weight, her voice calm.

“You already think I’m worth something. Or you’d have let the others have me.”

A pause.

Alcina’s smile didn’t change, but her fingers tightened slightly on the bars.

Then she turned, coat trailing behind her like a cape.

“We’ll see.”

She came at dusk again.

Same red hair. Same ghostly quiet.

Aris sat near the bars this time, just far enough to keep the girl curious. She didn’t look directly at her—just let the silence speak.

The girl in black edged closer down the stairs. No footsteps. Just a soft, shivering presence.

“You’re not like the others,” she whispered.

Aris blinked slowly. “Neither are you.”

The girl tilted her head. “You don’t smell like them.”

“That’s a good thing.”

She smiled, wide and bright and unsettling. “You’re not afraid.”

Aris’s mouth twitched. “You’re the second person to say that this week.”

The girl, Aris wondered what her name was, knelt just beyond reach of the bars, as if trying to decide whether or not she was afraid.

“Will you eat me?” she asked, not unkindly.

Aris’s reply was dry. “Not unless you’re annoying.”

Daniela giggled, then covered her mouth like she wasn’t supposed to.

And just like that, she was gone again.

But Aris didn’t smirk this time.

She watched the stairs long after the girl had vanished.

The test came at night.

Two guards opened the door without speaking. One threw in a corpse—fresh, still warm. A man in furs, his eyes wide in death. An outsider.

The second guard looked nervous. The first smirked.

“Compliments of Lady Dimitrescu. She wants to see what happens when you’re hungry.”

Aris stared at the body.

Then at the guards.

She didn’t move.

Minutes passed.

Eventually, one stepped closer.

She still didn’t move.

“Nothing?” he sneered. “I thought you were supposed to be a monster.”

He stepped inside to drag the body back.

That’s when Aris struck.

But not to kill.

She moved fast—just fast enough to knock him flat, to pin him to the floor with one hand. Her claws slid out half-formed.

The guard froze, pale as snow.

“Tell her,” Aris said, her voice low and steady, a taunting smirk on her lips, “that I don’t kill unless I have a reason. She thinks she can break me by taunting me with food? Tell her that I’ve gone weeks without food and I still didn’t break. If she wants me to snap, she’d better come down here and do it herself.”

She released him.

And sat back down.

The next evening, Aris heard raised voices beyond the cell door, descending the stairs.

Not shouting—nothing so vulgar. Just clipped, irritated tones. Female. Cold. Alcina.

“She didn’t harm anyone?” Alcina.

“No, my Lady. She pinned the guard, but that was all.”

“Pinned.” A pause. “She restrained herself.”

Aris heard the soft pop of a wine cork. A glass poured.

“And you left her unchained?”

“No, she returned to the corner. On her own.”

A longer pause.

Then: “Interesting.”

The next time Alcina appeared, she came alone.

Aris was seated with her back to the wall, hands resting on her knees. Not submissive. Not defiant. Balanced. Controlled.

Alcina remained just outside the bars, silent.

Aris looked up.

“Expecting a thank-you?”

Alcina arched a brow. “You didn’t kill the man.”

“He wasn’t worth the energy.”

The countess studied her for a moment longer. “Or perhaps you’ve learned restraint.”

“Or perhaps,” Aris said evenly, “I don’t perform when you throw me scraps.”

A flicker of something passed over Alcina’s face—annoyance? amusement? Both?

She stepped closer. “So what do you need, mutt? Praise? A pat on the head?”

Aris’s smile was sharp. “Touch me, and I’ll bite your hand off.”

Another pause. Alcina’s lip curled upward.

Alcina stared at her a moment longer, then turned without a word, disappearing into the shadows of the corridor.

Aris watched her go.

“You’ll be back,” she murmured.

Later that night, the red-haired girl returned.

This time she crept closer—close enough that Aris could see the small silver ring on her finger glint in the torchlight. Her eyes shimmered with curiosity.

“Did she hurt you?” She asked softly.

"Who, Alcina?" Aris leaned back against the wall. “No. Not yet.”

The woman frowned. “She thinks you’re dangerous.”

“She’s not wrong.”

“I don’t think you are.”

Aris’s tone stayed neutral. “You should.”

The red head moved closer until she was just on the other side of the bars, her voice low and almost conspiratorial.

“You don’t scare me.”

Aris looked at her then—really looked. The girl’s gaze was open, unguarded.

“Then you’re either brave,” Aris said quietly, “or very foolish.”

The woman smiled. “Can’t I be both?”

Aris said nothing.

But for the first time, she didn’t look away.

The girl came back yet again.

Same red hair. Same dark dress. This time, she brought a book.

She crouched near the bars and pushed it through the space between the iron—pages worn, spine cracked.

“Here,” she said. “I thought you might be bored.”

Aris stared at the book for a moment. Didn’t touch it.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Daniela.” The woman replied simply.

“You break into dungeons to offer reading material?”

Daniela grinned. “No one said I couldn’t.”

Aris finally picked up the book. Its title was worn away, but the first page was poetry. Something old. Dark.

She didn’t say thank you, but she didn’t toss it aside either.

Daniela sat cross-legged outside the bars.

“You’ve been here for a while.”

“And you’ve been watching.”

“You didn’t hurt that guard,” she said.

“Wouldn’t have stopped me if I wanted to.”

“I know.”

A beat of silence.

Then—softly—Daniela asked:

“Why didn’t you?”

Aris looked at her. “You really want to know?”

Daniela nodded.

“Because if I did,” Aris said, “they’d put me down. And I’d rather not go out in such a simple way after all the shit I've put up with.”

Daniela went quiet. Her voice dropped even lower.

“She wouldn’t let them kill you.”

That made Aris pause.

“Who wouldn’t?”

Daniela blinked, like the question confused her. “My mother.”

A beat.

Aris’s expression shifted—not fear, not shock, but realization. And a faint, restrained curse under her breath.

“You’re her daughter.”

Daniela’s brows lifted, amused. “You didn’t know?”

Aris shook her head slowly. “No. I thought... you were a servant. Or a specter.”

Daniela laughed softly. “We all are, in some ways.”

"How many of you are there?"

"Me, and my two other sisters. Bela and Daniela."

A shadow passed across the wall behind her.

Aris’s eyes flicked up.

She knew someone was watching.

Alcina stood just out of sight.

She had come to inspect the prisoner—again. And instead found Daniela—kneeling near the cell, smiling, laughing, leaning close.

And Aris—no growling. No claws. Just quiet curiosity.

Alcina didn’t interrupt.

Not yet.

Because for the first time since Miranda had dropped this wild creature into her castle, Aris looked... still.

Not broken. Not submissive.

But grounded.

Controlled.

Sometime later, Aris closed the book, staring into the dark outside her cell.

So Alcina had a daughter. A slight smirk crossed her lips. She could use that.

Later that night, Aris sat near the bars with the book still resting in her lap.

The footsteps were quiet, but she knew them now.

Daniela appeared from the shadows, holding something in both hands.

A cloth napkin. Folded carefully.

Aris arched a brow. “Another book?”

Daniela grinned. “Better.”

She passed it through the bars like she was handing over a secret.

Inside: a single, slightly smushed cookie.

Aris stared at it for a beat. “That’s contraband, isn’t it?”

Daniela smiled wider. “So is talking to you.”

Aris took the cookie and bit it slowly, eyes locked on Daniela the whole time.

“Too sweet,” she muttered. Then—after a beat—“Thanks.”

Daniela looked like she might burst.

“You’re welcome,” she said softly, and vanished like a ghost.

Two days later, Aris heard multiple footsteps—faster, sharper.

When she looked up, it wasn’t Daniela.

It was two other women, dressed similarly.

The blonde one—cool, quiet, assessing. And the darker one—fidgeting, sneering, eyes sharp like knives.

They didn’t speak to her at first. They just stared.

“So,” the dark one finally said, “this is the stray.”

“Daniela says she’s interesting,” the blonde added. Her tone was neutral, but her gaze wasn’t unkind.

Aris stood slowly and approached the bars. Calm. Steady.

“You must be the other daughters.”

Neither confirmed it.

The dark one leaned in. “If you hurt her, I’ll tear your spine out through your mouth.”

“Noted,” Aris replied, amusement flickering through her eyes. A pause. “You don’t scare me.”

The blonde gave the faintest smile.

They left soon after.

But they didn’t slam the door behind them.

Sometime later, Aris flipped the page of her book, licking chocolate from her thumb as the napkin sat at her feet, empty save for a few crumbs.

She wasn't a pet anymore. At least not to Alcina's daughters, but she wasn't free. Not yet.

#re8 village #resident evil #lady dimitrescu

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