#did they like the bird? did they know the stories?

[despazito]

Nowadays the cultural attitude towards pelicans is that they are greedy and gluttonous birds, but did you know that in european christianity pelicans were once a symbol of jesus' sacrifice?

The history of the Pelican in her Piety

"When a mother pelican feeds her chicks, she chews up fish in her big beak and lowers it to her chest to give the food to them. To distant observers this looked like she was pecking her own chest; the fact that some European pelicans have a crimson stain on their beak could have reinforced this idea of feeding her chicks with her own blood. Ironically, in real life, the size of a pelican’s beak means that it is totally unable to stab its own chest.

So this bit of bird lore found its way into ‘Bestiaries’, which were Christian books about animals and their attributes, and how they reflected God in this world.

The earliest bestiary (the Physiologus) with the Pelican in her Piety story is from the second century, where the chicks are killed by their parents and then brought back to life

The little pelicans strike their parents, and the parents, striking back, kill them. But on the third day the mother pelican strikes and opens her side and pours blood over her dead young. In this way they are revivified and made well. The Physiologus, author unknown, C2 AD

In the same way that the children of the pelican are nurtured by blood, the children of God are nurtured by the blood and flesh of Christ in the Eucharist, also called the Communion.

Lord Jesus, Good Pelican, Wash my filthiness and clean me with Your Blood, One drop of which can free The entire world of all its sins. Thomas Aquinas (translated from the Latin) ‘Adoro te devote‘

The pelicans’ behaviour was not considered as ‘symbolic’, it was real behaviour and was yet another example of God revealing himself in all aspects of the world, something that was taken for granted back in the day.

So the pelican became identified with Christ, deeply so."

[lost-romantique]

Dispelling Rumors

Alright, for the past few days Viv and her team have been releasing tidbits of the recording progress for Season 3.5 (second half of Season 3).

Viv and her team did this with Harvey Guillén (Vassago's VA) first.

And recently they did this with Bryce Pinkham...

Now I'm not sure where these rumors started, but fans have been speculating that because Harvey and Bryce both have songs being recorded right now, than that means Stolas and Vassago have a duet together!

Frankly, I don't think it's a duet.

Here's why...

A while back Sam Haft teased that he and his team (Andrew Underburg) recently finished a really "filthy" and "straight-up-horniest" song.

Many believe that the song he's referring to is the one Bryce recently recorded which is titled, "Dirty Bird".

Thus some speculate that "Dirty Bird" must be the song Harvey was singing as well.

However, that can't be the case because...

Jacinta announced on her instagram story that she was the one who wrote the song Vassago was going to sing.

Harvey then confirmed it by tagging Jacinta in his own instagram story.

Which leads me to the conclusion that I really don't think "Dirty Bird" is going to be a Stolago Duet.

However, I am positive that the song Bryce is going to sing, "Dirty Bird" is the horny song that Sam mentioned a while back. Simply because Sam on the instagram video, laughs awkwardly and goes "Lets get out of here.... I'm at work... uhm..."

Again, this is all speculation, even if "Dirty Bird" is the horny song Sam wrote, no one knows if Stolas is going to sing about Vassago or Blitz.

But lets face it...

I think we all know who Stolas is singing about...

"Oh, so you're a kinky little imp, aren't you? Do you like it when I talk dirty to you? I want you to [CENSORED] me with your [CENSORED] imp [CENSORED] get it��all the way [CENSORED] get it all the way through me, you [CENSORED]!"

Anyway, super massive thanks to @timkontheunsure for providing screenshots! They genuinely made making this post so much easier.

[lifes-pinata]

Duck and Mytho, A Relationship Analysis

BY POPULAR DEMAND (10 notes and 1 prompt by a blog I follow and admire)

Duck and Mytho are obviously so very important to each others stories. Without Duck, Mytho would have remained a heartless doll forever. And without Mytho, Duck would have remained a simple bird. The story cannot exist without Duck, and up until the last few episodes, Mytho remains her primary motivation.

Which is why is was so surprising to me that the way their relationship resolved was so..... Unsatisfying.

Now when I say that, I am not talking about Siegfried and Tutu's resolution, which remains one of the most touching scenes of the show. I am specifically talking about the relationship between Mytho and Duck.

For the first 14 episodes, Duck and Mytho's friendship was a slow but steady burn. Duck is an anomaly in Mytho's small world. Even heartless, he doesn't quite know what to make of her. "Fakir and Rue don't say things like that" he says in episode 3, when Duck reacts to his hurt hand.

Duck, as a person, represents something Mytho never encountered even when he was Siegfried. Her simple, straightforward kindness is so different from Rue's desperate, grasping love. Fakir's poisonous protection, and even the blushing, tittering classmates that never dare to speak to him.

And even though Mytho can't express it, I think it's really valuable to him. Early on, Duck is the only person capable of making his loneliness disappear. Not Rue or Fakir, who he's known for years (which he says to their faces oh my GOD) but Duck. The first request he makes is that she stays a little longer.

The entire first arc Duck continually proves herself to be trustworthy. Once Mytho returned to school after receiving the feeling of fear, Duck tackle hugs him, saying she looked for him everywhere. She knows about Princess Tutu, and is the only one who listens to him. Who doesn't talk over him. She brought him an umbrella when he was waiting for Tutu. He values her opinion enough that he asked her opinion on gifts to get someone. And yeah maybe he could have asked anyone, but we never see him seek someone out until the Raven's Blood kicks in.

In episode 14, Mytho says to Duck, straight out "You're the only friend whom I can tell everything." And then? They never interact again? Huh???

Well. That's not entirely true. There is one more scene where Duck and Mytho interact, if you believe that Mytho was lucid enough to truly count it. Episode 24, where Mytho has fully succumbed to the Raven's blood, and as a result has turned into a raven himself. He runs outside, after being hidden away by Rue, and finds Duck. And what does he do? He asks her to dance, just as he did on the day of the fire festival. But this time, Duck doesn't answer. She backs away from the monster he's become, just like everyone else.

To its credit, that is a resolution, but it still doesn't sit right with me. It feels too bleak in a story where hope overcomes everything else. A spot where Drosselmeyer's tragedy wins.

The thing is, I understand why they did it this way. One thing I have always appreciated about Princess Tutu is that there is no wasted time. Even at the beginning of the show, when it seemed lighter and sillier, every episode contained important information. From the very beginning, they were building to the finale.

The second arc of the show is even more this way, there is no wasted space. Where would they even put Duck and Mytho interactions? Duck is reckless but she knows better then to approach Mytho when he's actively trying to rip out the hearts of their classmates. If anything, trying to shoehorn interactions would come across as forced, and could even cheapen their interactions in the finale.

But as much as I love the scene where Mytho realizes that Princess Tutu was a duck. I also wish he had a moment to realize that the duck was Duck.

Because Princess Tutu performed magic and returned heart shards with her beautiful dancing.

But Duck did the hard work of being human. Of living and loving and trying and failing and getting back up.

It was Duck who saved the town in the end.

And it was Duck, who was ultimately forgotten.

[island-babys-blog]

🌺 Mini Beach Stories Ep 4 🌺

Characters: Male Morticia Addams x Yandere black reader

Author's Note: I see a lot of genderbending Wednesday Addams, but what about gender-bend Morticia Addams 😏

Synopsis: Wednesday feeling curious, wondered how her psychopathic loved-obsessed Mother got with her freak-of-nature Father at Nevermore Academy. So why not tell her the whole love story?

Morticia sips his black coffee on the couch of their unique home, watching the rain pour from the sky. He savors its bitter taste. He smiles lovely at the sky, "What a miserable day it is." An appearance of Wednesday appears in Morticia's vision as he watches a thunder strike the sky

" Father, I have something to discuss with you," Wednesday says soullessly as her brown skin shows proudly as each thunder strikes. Morticia stands up and looks at Wednesday, "What is it mi belladonna mortal?" he asks.

Wednesday takes a deep breath and then speaks." How did you meet your mother? Did you kidnap her or chain her up" Mortica smiles and chuckles at his daughter "No, mi belladona mortal, I couldn't have snatched her when she caught me herself" He sighs heavily as a heavy blush spreads across his pale skin.

"The way your mother trapped me in her web, Wednesday, she was like a spider" Mortica cradles his daughter's face. " I have never been loved like that, not even my parents love me like that, she made me feel like I was the only shark in the ocean, she treated me like a king" The blush on Morticia's pale skin is a rare display of vulnerability and deep affection. It signifies the profound impact that Wednesday's mother had on him, revealing a softer side beneath his typically stoic exterior.

“ Let me tell you the story, our love story”

* Morticia Past *

As he closed the locker, a young Morticia, with dark hair reaching his back, hollowed cheekbones, and black eyeshadow, wearing the purple with black striped nevermore uniform, along with his gothic boots. Grabbing his books Mortica moved to his next class not noticing two pairs of eyes staring at him from afar

“ Oh Gomez isn’t he perfect, like a black rose in a garden” you said clutching your books to your chest dark skin glowing, as your curly hair stopped below your chin eyes almost forming heart-shaped pupils the longer you stared at him. Talking to your friend. Gomez was a pretty handsome boy himself with gressy parted hair and a gap between his teeth.

“ I guess but aren’t you allergic to roses” He says with a raised eyebrow. Gomez knew about your obsession with the boy, but being a good friend it never bothered him but it did make him worry when you would hurt yourself in the process to make the tall boy to notice you.

“Do you think he will notice me if I leave him a note with some roses” You spin around looking at Gomez with childlike eyes.

“ it could work, but y/n you are deadly allergic to roses why not bring him a dead bird,” he says grinning like a madman

“ I did, but he gave it to some guy that was harassing him as a threat, which was pretty funny…" Too bad they couldn't find his body” you chuckle

“ Didn’t it take you hours to blend up the body,” Gomez says as he remembers you told him before

“ I did. but that doesn’t matter anymore. All I know is Project Win Morticia's heart is still a go, and you gonna help me right Gomez?” You say with a smile and dark undertone, but your eyes tell another story that creeps Gomez out a little

“ pshh, right...right” Gomez waves you off, heading to class, shoving his hands in his pockets as you giddly smile and plan to win Morticias heart

In Mrs. Ivy's homeroom, her room was filled with plants of all sorts from poisonous to carnivorous, Walking to his sit Morticia looked at the class plant that was set out for a project, a live venus flytrap that was the size of a head, purred at him smelling his scent and whined wanting another snack that mortica would sneak into class.

Scratching the plant softly, Morticia moved his head seeing a bouquet of black roses and a note attached to it

Dear mi amor oscuro

In your darkest hour, in the blackest night… think of me…and I will be with you. Always For where else could you go? When I saw you, flowers started growing in the darkest parts of my mind.

Love to death Your secret admirer

Feeling his face become hot, thoughts rushed to his head. Who could this be? Who wrote this? Is this a prank? Does someone…love me? Deep in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the paper being snatched from his hand by some bullies

“ Aww, look at this little Morticia got a love note..what.a.freak” the bully slowly sounded out with a disgusting smile on his face as the rest of the goons laughed, as some pulling on his hair, ripping the note and others stomping on the flowers.

“ You think someone would love a freak weirdo like you... You a nobody whose parents doesn't even love” one of the bullies says walking away and leaving to sit down as the class gets ready to start leaving a sorrowful Morticia with single tear running down his face, hair creating a barrier to shield is crys from onlookers that saw the scene

Not noticing a deadly smile on Gomez's face, knowing the doom that would soon fall upon the group of boys when he tells You, the soon-to-be lover of the sad Morticia Addams what happened today in class.

It was the end of the day, and school was close to ending, Mortica stayed behind the last one out, still feeling mournful over the loss of his flowers and precious note that someone left behind. Almost heading out the door, he heard a hunting scream that gave him goosebumps. Furrowing his eyebrows, he walks closer, seeing a closed door with what seems to be…leaking blood. From underneath.

Bringing his shakey hands toward the doorknob, hearing the door unclick from the lock. Pushing the door slightly but all the way to see the unsettling horror of what occurred

The display shook Morticia to the bones, the bodies of the boys were laid all across the room with their eyes open permanently in horror as their mouths held a frozen scream trying to get away from something…something terrifying.

Morticia gasped in shock, hearing a voice you turned around away from the boy that you just killed, getting ready to kill the next victim that dared show there face to you.

Turing your head you meet with the eyes of Morticia, feeling as if a bucket of ice dumped over you. Tears start pooling your eyes as you try to save yourself, save your image of a good girl who could do nothing wrong.

“ Morticia, w-what are you doing here” You dropped the knife hand dipped in the blood of the bullies and face splattered in blood walking slowly to Morticia as he slowly took steps back “ I-I can explain please, it's not what it looks like”

You were freaking out and Morticia could see it. Your eyes globbed with tears as you try to cover yourself from him like you were hiding your darkest secrets from him. Blabbing to him as you try to explain to him.

But all Morticia could hear was the sound of his heartbeat and the heavy breathing that he was producing.

You killed his bullies…you killed his enemies…you care for him…you must love him right,,,

It didn’t take long for Morticia to realize that it was you all along that gave him those eccentric gifts, the note the flowers even seeing the harsh red rash on your palms.

His face bloomed into a heavy blush as he walked towards you. You still hid from him as tears rolled from your eyes but feeling warm arms wrap around you and a head buried in your neck. Feeling his hot breath on your ear, as you hear him speak in his deep monotone voice that made your body as if it was being lit on fire.

“ Oh my mi araña venenosa, it was you…how could you love a person like me? "” he moaned, tightening his grip on you, a clear sign that he was never letting you go

“ Oh Morticia, mi amor oscuro, you have no idea. I want you to spill me open, to dig your fingers in and pry open my ribs, lick my heart and my blood and bones. Pick open my bones and suck out the marrow. I want to be devoured by you. I could never live without you. My body could never handle not having you at a moment. We were meant to be, you know that, right?” You purred in his ear as he studdered, your body burned with need it felt like agony, but your heart melted with happiness expressing your love to Mortica

Taking his head from your neck, you grabbed his face staining it with blood, smashing your lips with his feeling his hand grip your waist deliciously as he opened his mouth wider as if he was pushing himself further into your mouth

“Umm Father”

Present

“ Oops sorry almost told you how I convinced you” Mortica giggled with his hand covering his mouth as tiny bits of drool escaped ‘Disgusting’ Wednesday thought rolling her eyes as she heard heels click from the hallway

“ Sorry I'm late you two, had to take care of some things” You came in as your fitted black dress trailed behind as blood was shown on your face.“ What are you two talking about” You tilted your head as your fox eyes squinted, looking at your husband and daughter

“ how you meet Father,” Wednesday says with a straight look, eyes staring into your soul

You gasped a small blush appeared on your face feeling embarrassed by the story and how you left the bodies of the bullies so out and open, your father would have been ashamed of you. But you smiled at your daughter

“ Oh Wednesday when you find your special someone” You go and sit next to your husband kissing him on his cheek and caressing his hand. You stare deeply into your daughter's eyes as your dilated and dark smile appears.

“ You would wipe out any obstacles in your way, so it can be you and them…forever okay?”

“Okay mother”

[nondelphic]

thank you so much for 700 followers!! this is so insane to me and i'm so happy people are enjoying my posts.

i know most of you are here for my ""relatable writing posts"" but i also know some of you are interested in who i am, and specifically my writing, so to celebrate hitting 700 followers i thought i'd give you a taste of my writing !! i know i was supposed to tag some ppl but i forgot to write your names down and i can't remember who wanted to be tagged and who didn't 😭😭😭

these are all drafts and i def don't consider myself a great writer, but i think i'm okay at storytelling. regardless, enjoy it for what it is!

this excerpt is from my first completed draft of "the midnight chase." for context, marley is aroace.

-

They sat in silence for a while before Marley shifted towards Lucas. She bit her lip, uncertain of how honest to be. “Lucas?”

He looked at her. “Yeah?”

“You know the party last month? Remember how Elvis kissed me?”

Lucas nodded. Marley averted her gaze, focusing on a path beyond the pond that led to a cliff overlooking the ocean.

“Do you think it’s possible to want that sort of closeness, without wanting it all?” Marley could feel Lucas gaze on her.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Marley sighed and let her gaze drop to her feet. Her shoelaces had come undone.

“I mean, I don’t like Elvis like that, but when he kissed me, I felt… warm inside. Like, it’s not something I crave, but it felt nice regardless.”

Lucas remained silent for a moment. Marley looked up to see his gaze thoughtful as he processed her words. The gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird were the only sounds filling the silence between them. Marley could feel her heartbeat quicken, wondering if she had said too much, or if Lucas might misunderstand her.

Finally, Lucas sighed softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I get what you’re saying, Marley. I think… it’s natural to want closeness, to feel connected to someone, even if it’s not necessarily about romance. It’s human, you know? We all crave that warmth, that feeling of being wanted or cared for, even if it’s just for a moment.”

Marley nodded, relieved that he understood, but still, there was something else she needed to express. She glanced between Lucas and her shoelaces, her senses searching for any sign of judgement or discomfort, but all she saw was patience and a gentle curiosity.

“I guess it just made me question something that’s been nagging me for a long time,” Marley continued, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Like, what if I don’t ever want that kind of connection with someone, but I still want to feel close to people? Is that okay?”

Lucas’s expression softened even more, and he reached out, gently placing a hand on Marley’s shoulder. “Marley, there’s no right or wrong way to feel about these things. You’re allowed to want whatever it is you want—or don’t want. It doesn’t make you any less valid or any less… you.”

Marley let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Thanks, Lucas. I guess I just needed to hear that.”

and here's another excerpt that shows a bit more of the story...... kinda.

-

As Lucas excused himself to go to the bathroom, Marley looked for Chio. Instead, she ran into Silas.

“Hey,” he said, holding his arm out. “Let’s dance.”

Initially, Marley wanted to say no, but something in Silas’ expression made her do the opposite. She took his arm and he led her to a more secluded part of the dance floor. Marley noticed people staring at them as they walked, not unsurprisingly, considering her and Silas' history.

Silas put a cautious hand on Marley’s back as the song transitioned to a sentimental and slow piano arrangement. 

“You know the map I gave you?” Silas asked. Marley smiled. Yes, the one she and her friends had managed to figure out completely. “Did you solve it?” 

Something in Silas’ expression told Marley he already knew the answer. Did he want help? Had he solved it?

“Yes,” Marley said. Silas nodded, and a smile crept up on his face.

“Me too. Which means… the winner will be determined by who gets to the middle first.”

Marley nodded. “You’re doing it alone?” 

“Yes. I work best alone. I know you’re doing it with your friends.” Something in Marley churned at his answer. It was a typical Silas answer, a simple phrase etched with an edge of passive aggressiveness. Marley had solved it with the help of her friends. He had solved it alone, using only his brains.

“Teamwork is an underappreciated tool,” Marley said, finding herself distancing herself slightly from Silas’ hold on her as they danced.

“Of course. It’s important to be able to work with others. At the end of the day, though, you'll be alone.”

Marley looked into Silas’s eyes, trying to decipher his expression. There was something behind his words, a hint of loneliness perhaps, or maybe a sense of inevitability. She decided to keep the conversation light, not wanting to spoil the mood of the evening.

“Maybe so, but having friends by your side can make a huge difference,” Marley replied, her tone gentle but firm.

Silas nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just... sometimes it feels like relying on others is a weakness.”

Marley shook her head. “It’s not a weakness, Silas. It’s a strength. Knowing when to ask for help, and knowing you can trust those around you, that’s powerful.”

They continued to dance in silence for a few moments, the slow melody wrapping around them. Marley felt a strange mix of empathy and rivalry towards Silas. She understood his drive and his determination, but she also saw the value in the support system she had with her friends.

As the song came to an end, Silas offered her a small smile. “Thank you for the dance, Marley. And for the perspective.”

Marley returned the smile. “Anytime, Silas. Good luck with the challenge.”

“Good luck to you too,” Silas replied, giving her a polite nod before walking away.

Marley watched him go, feeling a mixture of emotions. She was grateful for her friends and the support they provided, but she also understood the weight Silas carried. She hoped that one day he would realize the value of camaraderie.

Lucas returned from the bathroom, a curious look on his face. “Did I miss something?”

Marley laughed, shaking off the remnants of her conversation with Silas. “Just a dance with Silas. Nothing major.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Shall we continue dancing?”

“Absolutely,” Marley said, feeling lighter and more determined than ever.

They returned to the dance floor, joining their friends in the celebration. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, dancing, and shared moments that Marley knew she would treasure for a long time.

As the night wound down, Marley found herself sitting with Chio and Maya on a bench outside the hall, the cool air in the stone-cladden corridor a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dance floor.

Maya pulled out her phone from under her dress. Marley watched her. “Where did you keep that?”

“Oh, I have all my dressed sewn to include hidden pockets. I hate not being able to carry stuff.”

Chio rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ah, yes, custom sewn gowns with pockets, what a normal and humble thing!”

“It’s not my fault that default dresses don’t come with pockets already,” Maya countered.

“Calling normal dresses ‘default dresses’ is crazy,” Marley snorted. She looked at Chio’s dress. It was a beautifully simple dress with long, wide arms and a simple fabric belt around the waist, in a bright orange colour, contrasting Chio’s blue hair in a seamlessly effortless way.

“To be fair, my dress is also customised,” Chio sighed, smoothing out her skirt, before smirking. “I took it in two centimetres at the waist.”

The three girls burst out into laughter. Maya looked at her phone.

“What time is it?” Chio asked.

“10:45.”

“We should get ready.” Marley said. The Midnight Chase started at midnight, just as the name suggested. And she was not running down the maze in a long dress. Well, she could, she knew multiple people participating who were going directly from the dance to the maze. But they weren’t in it to win it. Marley and her friends were.

Hopefully, Silas would find that working alone is actually the greatest weakness.

Marley had a gnawing feeling that her stance would be proven right.

HELP i'm so scared y'all are gonna think my writing is trash because LET'S BE FR THIS IS JUST FROM MY FIRST DRAFT!!!! i haven't yet edited these scenes so they're kinda cringe but i wanted to show my main project. i do have different writing styles depending on genre though, and i'm tempted to show some of my comedy writing. it's pretty hilarious, if i may say so myself.

anyway, thank you again for 700 followers. thank you so much. each like, reblog, reply, message, or ask brings me so much happiness. you have no clue how much your interest warms my heart (or maybe you do because you know how social media manipulates our brains and their reward system)

[luimagines]

Ok hear me out I just thought of something.

We’re all familiar with the swan princess, right? If not, look it up it’s awesome. I love any and all iterations of that story.

ANYWAY!!!!!!! We all like a little romance in the fandom right? So lemme explain this thought I just had… a swan princess-ish type of LU story?

Basically, what if the Chain find a bird (you can pick any bird you want but I recommend a crow.) being injured by a small group of monsters. The Chain save the crow and heal its wounds before going about their business.

The crow then starts to follow them. It’s a little awkward at first but the crow eventually becomes like another member of their group like Epona and Wolfie (if this is pre Wolfie reveal. I’m not picky so anyone can say yes or no on that.) the crow helps them scout and navigate new areas, warns them of threats in the distance, and even brings them trinkets from time to time.

Anyway, one day after the Chain settle down for the evening they noticed the crow is on edge like its nervous… the Chain are wary because normally that means danger is around. But what actually happens boggles their minds. Once the sun has completely set and darkness falls upon the land… the crow turns into a girl (or whatever gender you want. I’m personally gonna go with a girl) who immediately is hiding in the bushes and asking to borrow a cloak. (Not everyone has magical clothes when they transform lol)

Turns out, the crow is actually a girl who was cursed! An evil warlock cursed her to forever be a crow except on the nights of a perfectly crescent, half, and full moon. When she can return to her human (or Hylian. Take your pick.) form. Basically, the warlock loved her beauty (or handsomeness.) and asked her hand in marriage three times. On the nights of a perfectly crescent, half, and full moon. She refused all three times. As revenge, he cursed her to take the form of a crow, a bird which was unanimously hated for being associated with evil. As far as she’s aware, she has to accept to warlock’s ‘love’ and marry him for the curse to break.

When questioned on her reasons for sticking around and helping them out, she simply told them that they saved her life. Anyone else would have left her to die… or finished the job themselves. She was grateful and wanted to repay the favor. Of course, she also wanted to see if the journey they were on could help her find another way to break her curse, but that was just a bonus. She really did want to repay the favor of helping her. She’s been through so much as a crow… like I said, they’re associated with evil so people aren’t the kindest towards them.

Obviously there’s another way to break the curse, but only the warlock knows that. I haven’t EXACTLY thought of the details, because I don’t wanna copy Swan Princess too much… but finding true love is the basics.

Alright lovelies, that’s as far as the idea has run. Plz feel free to take this idea and run with it! Pick your favorite boy and let your imagination run wild! Or commission our wonderful Pinky here (yes I’m advertising for you. Accept it!) to continue this little idea for you.

As for you, Pinky, plz give feedback! Love your content so much! Have a great day!

You know, I've actually never seen or heard the story of the Swan Princess. So if I do get commissioned for it, I guess I have some research to do. XD

I thought it was going to go the route of Kiri from CR Campaign 2, but I was delightfully surprised by the change! OR! Maybe I can twist them both together to avoid ripping off the Swan Princess as a whole.

I think this is a stellar idea. I like it! So cute! <3

Thank you for sending this in!

[monstersandmaw]

Monthly story - male bat-like forest monster x male character (nsfw)

This one was a really sweet one to write, though as ever, it's about 10k words longer than I intended. I hope you enjoy these two and the autumnal forest vibes. There are also a couple of tiny little Gabe & Odessa easter eggs in there, if you spot them...

Summary: a heartsick author books a remote fire lookout tower for some solitude after a messy breakup, and for the chance to finish his latest novel, only to fall slowly in love with a voice over the radio.

Content (light spoilers): stormy conditions, then lost while hiking, forest entity attacks with constricting vines (not romantic interest). Nsfw includes oral, no penetrative, messy sex, come marking(?), and there's some purring too.

Wordcount: 13,238

(for the tower lookout vibes, this reddit link should help)

Preview:

“You’re renting a what?” Lavinia snorted, setting down her coffee cup with a clunk and gawping at Bowen like he’d just grown another head. Or maybe like he’d lost the one he’d had to begin with.

“I’m renting an old fire lookout in the Pinewatch Range for a month.”

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” she blurted. “Seriously, I know the breakup with Mike fucked with your head, and with good fucking reason because the man is a complete —”

“— it’s not about the breakup, Lav,” Bowen interjected heavily, taking a sip of his own drink and wincing. Instead of his usual coffee, he’d opted for a remarkably bland chamomile tea, and was regretting it enormously. “It’s just… I’ve been wanting to work on my novel. I think a place with no electricity other than a solar panel to charge my phone and radio, and no running water, is going to suit me just fine.”

“No running water?” Lavinia looked truly horrified at that. “Seriously? How are you gonna shower? And, like… flush the toilet? Oh my god, don’t tell me you have to shit in the woods…”

At that, Bowen bit back a rare, true laugh. “There’s a composting toilet in an outhouse. It’s not like I’m turning into a bear.”

She eyed Bowen’s gut, which was just a little softer than it had once been, and raised one eyebrow. “Sweetheart, if you put on a red flannel shirt and grew that thick scruff out into a proper beard, you’d be the definition of a bear.”

He rolled his cocoa-brown eyes at her and leaned back in the farmhouse style chair, gazing around at the new coffee shop that had opened up on North Street. Lavinia looked out of place in the cutesy, rustic tea room, but as usual, she paid her surroundings little mind. Instead, she regarded him from under her heavy, Goth makeup, with a back-combed bird’s nest of box dyed, black hair piled atop her head. Behind the dramatic makeup and the false eyelashes that looked like the kind of spiders Bowen only found in the deepest recesses of his basement, he could see real concern in her features,and his heart squeezed. He’d isolated himself too much from his friend in the past six months, and now he was running away to the wilderness.

He leaned forwards, just catching the creak of the rattan beneath his jeans above the clatter of the cafe as the chair shifted and groaned a little, and he rested his weight on his forearms. “Honestly, this will be good for me, Lav. I need to unplug for a while.”

“I’m just worried you’re not gonna be able to plug back in afterwards,” she muttered darkly. “I take it you don’t get phone reception out there?”

He shook his head. “Nope. There’s a radio that connects you to the forest service in an emergency, and there are a few other old lookout towers in the area, but unless there’s a very lost hiker, I won’t see another soul for the whole month.”

“Jesus,” she hissed. “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing. And if I come across Mike in the meantime, I’ll hex his bollocks off and make him rue the day he dumped you.”

“You already did that.”

Something flashed in her eyes. “I made him rue the day he dumped you, but it was sweet little ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt’ Hazel that hexed him.”

Bowen rolled his eyes and chuckled fondly. “You and all that witchy shit, Lav. Ever since you watched The Craft in high school…”

Easy-going Bowen had always respectfully humoured his best friend’s interest and belief in the Occult, but he’d never subscribed to anything spooky himself. The spookiest thing that had ever happened to him was a traffic light going from red to green as he approached it. Hardly cause to call the Ghostbusters in, after all.

At first, he’d thought Lav had been joking, or just using some affectionate name for the group of people who had all met after class and at the weekends, calling them ‘her coven’, but over the course of their university degree, and the subsequent years of employment, he’d come to discover they all actually believed in the supernatural. Then again, Mike’s apartment had flooded the week after he’d ditched Bowen, and his had been the only one to suffer any damage. There was now some lingering problem with a particularly stubborn and rather toxic mould all over the ceilings, according to Lavinia’s mystical sources…

“Just promise me you’ll take good care of yourself, and you’ll fucking phone me the second you get back to civilisation,” she growled, and he solemnly promised with hand on heart to keep her updated when he could.

A week later, Bowen’s pickup bounced up the rutted track to the fire lookout station, with a fortnight’s worth of water and camping supplies lashed down in the bed. The nearest town of Pinewatch was a jolting, twenty mile trip down dirt roads before even reaching the main, tarmac road to get there, so he’d be using the truck for a resupply run in a couple of weeks, but until then, he figured he had everything he needed. At least, he hoped he did.

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[katerinaaqu]

Ismarus! Ismarus! (P2)

The second part Of my story! Continuation from Part 1 and kinda a late birthday gift for @h0bg0blin-meat Sorry I was late! As always the inspiration came from discussing complicated stories with my dear friend @artsofmetamoor

There wasn’t much to disrupt the silence of Ismarus and maybe that was why the tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife. It had been several hours since the moment they had refused to assist the Greeks out and now they seemed rather nervous. True they seemed like sailors and tired from a long trip but they were always veterans from Troy, a city that wasn’t taken before since Heracles and the look on that short man seemed alarming. It was as if he was much more than what met the eye. Something about him had been disturbing to the embassy. It seemed that his eyes had caused more than just a mere slaughter of a large city. The guards at the walls were always on the edge of their wits waiting.

“There is no sign of them anywhere” one of them said to the other in their dialect, “Maybe they got the message and left”

“Perhaps…”

The sound of leaves hustling was enough to make them jump. They didn’t know what was about to happen but they could feel it down their spines; all the way to the hairs in their napes that were now standing up in their worry. They were generally peaceful people. Their skills in battle were enough to keep invaders away from their area. And yet now that small person from another kingdom arrived there with a threat roaming over their heads like Apollo’s judgment.

“Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“There!” The guard pointed at some bushes, “The sound came from there!”

As his partner gazed over the walls to see at the spring leaves of the thick bushes and failing to see anything suspicious; maybe except the fact that the bushes were a bit closer than what he remembered! Where his eyes playing tricks on him or…?

“Go back and report!” he urged, “There is a high chance they-…”

His voice was cut of when the whistle of an arrow and the terrifying sound of metal cutting through flesh chocked the words down his chest and a shaft went through his tender neck. He collapsed chocking in his own blood.

“WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!” The other man yelled, “SOUND THE ALARM!”

No sooner had the words escaped his own lips and another arrow hit him to the shoulder, making him lose his footing and falling out of the walls inside the city’s perimeter. And then a storm of arrows fell from the skies. The Greeks jumped from behind the bushes and dozens of cords were pulled at the same time, singing like deadly birds.

“FIRE!” Odysseus ordered, voice roaring above them all

Flintstones cracked almost at the same time, sparks coming out of the friction and lighting arrowheads covered with cloth, sending a flaming rain upon the walls where the confused guards didn’t have the time even to gear up before hay next to them set aflame or their own clothes and hair setting on fire. Odysseus watched as flames and smoke rose.

“Give me that!” he ordered his squire grabbing the bow and the flaming arrow

Like a hunter who skillfully aims for the moving deer across the forest, Odysseus of Ithaca aimed and shot and the arrow pierced right through the wooden gate. He grasped upon a sling and span it, before throwing the material at the door. The small perfume bottle at the end of it which was now filled with a mixture of wine and oil, broke against the gate, sending wild flames to dance like Kaveiroi; Hephestus’s demonic helpers by the heath of his workshop. A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he watched the flames spark and consume the wood of the gate. His mind traveled back to their plans once more.

“How are we going to hit them?” Eurylochus asked, “They will throw stuff on us from the wall!”

“We shan’t get anywhere near the walls, Eurylochus” Odysseus replied in confidence

He took a branch and drew some circles at about shooting range of the city.

“We shall use vegetation as our cover. We will release the arrows like a storm before they have the time to shoot us. I believe we have plenty of hunting bows and arrows”

“Yeah” Eurylochus agreed, “At least a hundred bows and respective arrows”

“Good! We can use oil and wine as our assistance”

“Assistance for what?” Polites now asked

Odysseus eyed him. His eyes already sharp like the obsidian glass that is being forged under the merciless flames coming straight from the core of the earth.

“Fire, of course, Polites! We shall burn them down before they have the chance to aim! They will be waiting. They will be tensed! But if the plan works, we shall lose no men today!”

The defendants finally released some counter-attack, sending their own rain of arrows at them.

“DEFEEEENCE!” Odysseus roared

The shields rose over their heads, taking in dozens of arrows. One or two that got through and nicked a shoulder or a foot, caused some pained yelps. Odysseus didn’t have the luxury to look back. He prayed, though with all his heart that they would be fit to fight later.  So far so good, the Much Cunning man thought. He raised his arm in the air closing his fist. Eurylochus saw the signal and blew a hunting horn. It was a long, monotone note but it pierced the air even above the screaming of the men at the lines of shooting. And it only took a couple of seconds before some more fire smoke emerged, this time from the other way of the city. The heads turned towards that direction. Odysseus this time almost grinned. Yes, according to plan!

“The spies reported a tunnel for the waterfront at the back, here!” Odysseus said pointing his stick at the other part of the square that represented the city on the sand

“What are you planning to do with it? Send people inside?”

“I could, but it is risky. The path is small and it can fit one man at a time without armor and I shall not send unarmored men in enemy territory. No, my plan is quite simple, really”

He placed his stick to the part of the front gate again.

“I and the main team shall launch the attack here. If the plan works they will be too distracted. While they are occupied with us, a small team shall run as fast as the wind can carry them to the passage…and on the signal they shall start a fire”

The men at the back passage were already lighting more intense flames at the hay and dry grass they had hastily gathered. As the team of watchmen arrived at the spot before they could launch a counter-attack they were taken down by the last small team of archers, lurking behind the main task force that started the arson.

Odysseus made a move with his fingers, cross-way, opening his fingers in opposite directions with suggestive meaning.

“Distraction, division…Disorientation!” he said self-complacently, triumphantly

His eyes scanned his generals as they seemed to be literally hanging from his every word.

“Derange!” the king of the Cephallinians added

Back at the present, Odysseus placed the helm better on top of his head. The red and blue plume adorning the top of his boar-tusk helmet, waved gracefully at the breeze. His hand clasped the leather stripes tighter.

“Wait! Wait for them to open the gates!”

His nerves were at the peak; his senses seemed to be heightened. Like an experienced hound seeing the stag drinking water from the waterfront and already feeling to its teeth the taste of warm blood and flesh; legs and paws ready for the deadly sprint, Odysseus was feeling every tiny muscle in his arms pulsating in anticipation. He knew he had but one chance. He couldn’t afford striking before the exact proper time!

“I still fail to see how you will get is in the city, Odysseus” Eurylochus pointed out, “You say we bombard the walls but how shall we get in?”

Odysseus took a gulp of wine, his lips almost curling in a cat-like expression.

“They will let us in, Eurylochus!”

“They will?!”

“They will have no choice. They have fire to their front, fire to their back and they know they have better chances to face us at the open field. They shall open the gates for us and when they do, we shall be ready!”

He placed his cup at the side and played a bit with a small piece of skin coming out of the base of his fingernail. He thought for a second before looking at his second in command.

“Do you think my chariot can be used?”

“It is damaged” Eurylochus admitted, “But I suppose we can fix it for a battle real quick”

“Good” Odysseus said biting that piece of skin apprehensively, “Because it is an important part of my plan. I shall need it and two of my strongest horses. I shall lead the attack inside”

“Odysseus, no!” one of the generals protested, “You must not take reckless decisions!”

“If I don’t, no one will” Odysseus retorted, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I will have you for cover. Send the order to fix my chariot!”

“Yes, sire!”

“The rest of you shall take position as agreed. If it works we shall charge through their defenses before their cavalry charges”

Horses were already plowing the sand with their hooves, as if their master’s nervousness and eagerness was being transferred to them. And Odysseus endured this bloodlust of battle that was making him restless, until he saw the gates opening slowly and he knew he had his chance!

“CHAAAAAAAAAARGE!” he ordered

His squire stirred the horses the exact moment the door opened and his chariot sped forward. The horses neighed and the sand rose in clouds as the squire forced the animals to drive the vehicle through the gates just on time for a couple of horses with their riders to come out. Odysseus raised his sword and cut one man right across the shoulder; blade cutting flesh and connections through the bones, blood oozing out of the wound as the rider fell to the ground. The second had no better luck for his hand was cut off from the base of his wrist and his horse’s legs crushed against the wheels of the war chariot. The animal screeched pitifully and fell onto the sand, taking the already wounded rider with him to the next world. The king of Ithaca drove the chariot triumphantly into the city, forcing his squire to turn the horses, facing the opponents arriving at the same time; one hand holding the leather stripes of the side and one holding a sword or a bronze spear. The army of his men coming behind him sprinting like ants attacking an enemy colony. The screams of the residents who didn’t have the time to evacuate sounded like a hellish music to their ears. The clanging of metal against metal and pained screams of the wounded was deafening. Blood splattered in every direction as the Cicones of Ismarus realized too late they had fallen into the trap of the Greek soldiers; soldiers molded, baked and hardened at war; men who now felt all the same battle lust and thirst for blood as they had when they invaded the city of Ilium, the holy ground of Troy, once more under the command and because of the plan of this very same man! This man that was now on top of his chariot, clearing the path for them, looking almost like god Ares himself who leads the troops of gods through the battle; his bronze and leather armor shining under the sun, the boar tusks in his helmet stained with blood and dust and yet showing the wild nature of war right there before their eyes; naked sword and spear at hand, bow and arrows waiting; Odysseus seemed at home. This familiarity of slaughter and war was the only thing they knew for almost a decade. For Odysseus too; the calmness of his childhood, the hunting parties in the forest, the quiet life among the quiet herding of the sheep and the goats in the plain; the change of season and the harvest of crops…all seemed forgotten. It was insignificant before this thrill of battle and conquest!

“Yes! Burn it down! Show the punishment of Zeus upon those who refuse his law!”

His eyes looked around. His men running around the city carrying torches and bronze. Fires were being set hither thither, screams were heard as helpless women and children were running out of their burning houses, coughing the sulphous smoke, some of them had covered their children with blankets, some were leading elders outside. They didn’t get to go far for many of them were grabbed by the hair by the bloodthirsty and now completely lost in battle soldiers and dragged out towards some other spot, crying or screaming, trying to hold onto whatever precious they had in hand; property or children.

“EURYLOCHUS!” Odysseus called his second in command closer, “Take the reins! Take over!”

He jumped out of his chariot rushing to assist some soldiers on foot.

“FIND THE KING! SIEZE THE CASTLE!” continued his orders on the way

His obsidian eyes scanned the massacre; men falling in the already bloody sand, women and children crying and running helplessly. One or two dragged behind corners. He had no idea what would happen beyond his optical field.

“No! No women and children! I said you shall not harm women and children!”

He slashed once more, feeling the blood splattering his already blood, painted face.

“MURDERER!”

And he slashed again…

“MONSTER!”

And again…everything almost seemed slowed down around him… It was as if his own breath was maximized to his ears…the neighing of horses and cries of the wounded… Some bloody lock of hair had escaped his helm and was resting against his brow, making the hairs almost touch his eye. It was bothering him…

“MONSTER! MONSTER! MONSTER!”

His breath hissing at the back of his throat; sweat running down his face, burning his eyes and salting his lips, transferring the metallic scent of blood alongside dust. His eyes seemed to be changing the scenery; it was night again; the streets were cobbled and not just covered in golden sand and dust; women and children were not tattooed or have their locks free running about but wore good veils and long skirts; women and children crying on top of their husbands or screaming at corners as soldiers would have their way with them in their lust for battle and thrill. He blinked repeatedly to bring the current image to his head instead. No, he wouldn’t think about Troy! Not now! However, was that image so different, really? He mechanically closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of dust and blood and fire. Suddenly all sounds were blocked; only the whistling in his ears was echoing and some distant cries coming straight out of the haunting past.

“NOOOO!”

“WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!”

“ODYSSEUS! YOU SPAWN OF THIEVES AND RAGGED SCHEMER!”

“ODYSSEUS! Odysseus…”

“ODYSSEUS!”

He gasped as the familiar voice of Polites reached his ears and just on time for his senses to heighten once again and blocking just on time a Ciconian sword a few inches away from his face. His counter attack was as quick as the man had his throat gushed from side to side, revealing the tendons and vocal chords. He choked on his own blood and fell. Odysseus needed a second to calm his heart.

“Thanks” he said to Polites half-heartedly

His eyes looked up at the top of the walls to see a man running accompanied by two others. He had seen that man before! He was with the embassy that met them. So this man was their king after all! His lips formed a smirk. He spat the bitter taste of blood and sand off his mouth.

“Cover me, Polites!” he ordered running up the stairs

His feet were getting almost sinking in the bloody sand as he ran upstairs. The arrows that whistled by his side were music to his ears as one of the king’s guards fell. The other bravely charged towards Odysseus but his sword was deflected. Odysseus pulled the man by the arm and threw him down the stairs. As he approached the top, breathing heavily, the man eyed him with his brown eyes and pulled his own sword. Odysseus moved his head a bit as if he was approving the man’s persistence. And then he charged. The two swords clang with each other. He was strong, Odysseus noticed, and fierce in his attacks. He gathered the sword and attacked again and then again, to be met with a counter attack. His opponent nicked his arm. He hissed.

“Shit!”

The attack came again but this time he was ready. Like two lions ready to tear each other apart over the best part of a carcass, the two kings were fighting for the price of the city and its treasures. Odysseus span once more, hitting the man’s stomach with his elbow. The stunned king turned back and chocked as he tried to counter his next attack. He also earned himself a gush to his arm.

“Surrender!” Odysseus demanded

The man spat something in his dialect, eyeing Odysseus with this kind of look that if it were lightning, Odysseus would have been stricken dead by now.

“I suppose this means ‘never’!” he smirked

He attacked again and again. The man was exhausted even if he was at least five years younger. Odysseus knew he wouldn’t go forever. His own muscles suffering from a day’s battle and from the light scratches he took upon during the battle.

“No! I shall not die here! This is not my destiny! My home is waiting! Not here! Not like this!”

He kicked the sand under his feet; some went to his opponent’s face. In that moment he stroke with his sword, piercing the flesh of his opponent’s stomach. Unfortunately for him it wasn’t deep enough. The man stepped back, holding his wounded stomach. He looked around, the destruction of his city that seemed to be already falling even if the day was not even over yet. He looked again at his opponent who so simply had managed to take his Ismarus with just a handful of men. He knew he was dying. He had realized his city was lost now.

“Who…are…you…?” he gasped

Odysseus rushed forward, like a wolf towards the wounded doe that was now making her last stand. His sword met the last weak resistance from his opponent. Fast like a cat he removed the small knife he kept in his armband and with one swift move he sank it to the side of his opponent’s neck. The king of the Cicones chocked as his own blood filled his mouth and lungs. He twitched and tried desperately to breathe. Odysseus leaned to his ear.

“I am Odysseus of Ithaca, son of Laërtes, the conqueror of the holy city of Troy!”

The man’s eyes widened in horror and realization as the shadow of death was already giving them a glassy appearance.

“The…S-Sacker…of…Cities…” he finally rasped out

And then the shadow of death passed over his face as he collapsed and never moved again. Odysseus sighed towards the heavens. The day was coming to an end; the sun was getting lost towards the horizon. He heard cries of triumph coming from down below. He looked down and saw that the city was taken over. The few men that were left alive, they were forced to throw their weapons; women and children were being led out towards the central square.

“Yet another city…fell in less than one night… Gods, it is so easy…feels so natural… Gods…war is inside me! The cries of all I destroyed are crying inside my head! The Sacker of Cities… Athena…patroness of war and wisdom, Pallas Athena… Why was this seed planted inside me…? Why me…?”

He ran his hand over his face, smearing some of the blood still on it. He looked down as the cries of triumph had increased now. He could hear them now form a rhythm once more…

“ALL HEIL FOR ODYSSEUS!”

“HOORAY!”

“SACKER OF CITIES!”

“SACKER OF CITIES!”

Odysseus closed his eyes and leaned back up towards the heavens. His sword fell from his hand and the knife that had taken the life of his opponent was long forgotten.

Sacker of Cities! Sacker of Cities! Sacker of Cities! Sacker of Cities! Sacker of Cities!

*

He inspected the area. The fires were still burning around but they were under control. At least no one seemed to be seriously hurt apart from some minor injuries and cuts that were taken care of very soon. His own minor cuts were barely of need of bandage. He felt exhausted and he wasn’t sure the battle was at fault. However he tried his best not to let anything show. Him feeling sorry for himself wouldn’t change a thing and in the end of the day they had chosen this. In a way they felt like they had to although he knew it was more the call for war inside them rather than the hunger in their bellies, which was a reason enough and yet…

“Odysseus! Look!”

The tired king followed the sound of Eurylochus’s voice as he led him to the granary. It was forcefully opened with axes and swords and revealed the treasure inside; grain, wine, dried meats and many, many more they could use for their trip just like as they had predicted. There were also cattle that were led to the square to be included to their sacrifices or offerings or prices and quite a few sheep and goats too.

“Look at all this food! We’re saved! By gods you did it!”

“Yeah…” Odysseus said absentmindedly

“And so many riches! Look!” Polites added, showing him some pieces of metal, weapons and jewelry, “This city was loaded with goods!”

Odysseus forced a small smile to his lips.

“Bring them all out” he ordered, “They shall be placed in the lottery to be shared with everyone. Foods and drinks shall be loaded to the ships”

“Do you want to choose, first?”

Odysseus stopped. He felt like he was re-living the conversation back at Troy when he was asked to take the pick of the spoils. Strange how often he was getting that question!

“No, Polites” he said, “We shall all take our share fair and square. That is the will of Zeus’s justice…”

Back at the square the few remaining men were tied up with secure ropes and brought kneeling before their conquerors. Odysseus walked over them, counting.

“Are they all that are left?” he asked

“We believe so”

“You…believe so?” Odysseus echoed, suddenly eyes darkening, “You mean you are not certain?”

“There was a huge battle, Odysseus! You cannot expect us to know for sure if anyone escaped or not…”

He had to admit that his general was right. But this scenario was possibly what he feared all along.

“And this was no battle…it was a slaughter! Just like Troy…”

Although he had to admit at least the Cicones were given the chance to fight back. It wasn’t like they attacked at night while everyone slept, right? Right? He eyed at the men who glared daggers at him.

“Kill them” he ordered calmly

The voice he made was so calm he was surprised. He hardly batted an eye when his men slashed the throats of the surviving warriors and watched the light of life escaping from their eyes; their last breath drawn out of their lips.

“How easily do men die! How easy it seems to plunder cities and yet…plunder and steal lives is even easier… Cursed war! Cursed Troy! You made a monster out of us all! This was not supposed to be our fate! We didn’t deserve this!”

The sound of begging came to his ears. And he heard the common Greek. That drew his attention as his men were dragging a man dressed in luxurious robes. There was no doubt on his identity. His face turned pale.

“UNHAND THIS MAN!” he roared the order, “This man is a priest! He shall not be touched!”

His men got alarmed by his voice and let the man go. The man seemed frightened. His beard splattered with blood and dust. His robes seemed tattered and half-torn. He was obviously dragged out of the temple violently. Odysseus felt his blood boil! He hoped his battle lust men hadn’t done so when the man sought sanctuary. That would be the end of them! He ran to help the priest stand. His hair was a rare copper sheen. His long curly beard was of even brighter color still. His eyes had the sheen of hazel. He seemed no over than 40 years of age. Maybe younger.

“Are you alright?” Odysseus asked

“Thank you…” the priest mumbled, standing back to his feet, “I am fine”

“You speak our language”

“Yes” the priest spoke, “I had the honor of being taught by my teachers when I was an acolyte to the grace of the Silver Shafted!”

“Rest assured, your safety is guaranteed. No one shall touch you while I am in command! Who are you? What is your name? What is your line?”

“I am called Maron, my lord. Euanthes is the name of the man who claims my heritage. I have the honor of claiming both the Greek and the Thracian blood and language inside me”

“Maron of noble birth” Odysseus said officially, “You have my word that you shall be guaranteed your life. Flee Ismarus while you can. Forgive me for the destruction we caused. Trust me though your lords and masters had it coming. We arrived at their doors seeking hospitality and they refused. This blood shall fall on them”

He was lying to himself and he knew it. Perhaps part of him believed what he said. However not all of it. The lust for blood he felt before was no coincidence.

“I beg of you, my lord, can my family also go through? I have a wife, sons and daughters! Please be merciful and allow them also flee! In the name of Apollo I beseech you!”

Odysseus smiled reassuringly.

“You have my word” he promised, “Rest assured. Take all your kin and everything you can carry and go. No one shall harm you. No one shall take a single hair of your heads while you do so”

Maron, son of Euanthes bowed before the king of Ithaca and grabbed his blood-painted hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it. Odysseus shivered. Such gratefulness coming from a man who had the chance to save his life and his family!

“He kisses the hand of the man who killed his masters! Just like king Priam kissed the hand of the man who killed his son! Is there hope then? For our souls in Hades? Or maybe we are doomed like Achilles who fell by the arrow of the weakest man in Troy?”

“Blessed you be, my lord!” Maron whispered, “May Apollo guide you with his light! May he grand you health and wisdom!”

Odysseus drew his hand back. Part of him wanted to scream for this man to realize whom he had before him; the butcher of Troy! The man who chose to fight by trickery and chose to take the holy city in one night.

“Enough, my friend…enough…” he whispered, “Just go…you are free”

“Please…let me give you a gift for your mercy, my lord…”

He dragged the astounded king by the arm, like a child taking his father to see his achievement. Maron led him to the temple that still smoked. His family was gathering everything they could. Maron took him to the cellar and presented him with a large sealed vase.

“Please accept this godly wine from me, my lord” Maron said, “It is a blessed, black-red sweet beverage for you and your kin. But be careful, for it is very special. One cup of this, needs to be watered at least 20 times before it is drinkable. Never forget it!”

Odysseus smiled once more. Such a valuable gift! Maron was being extremely generous with them. Somehow this kindness and response to mercy reminded him the small peace of mind he got when Menelaus gave him some praise despite the fact that the city of Troy was cussing his name to the grave. He caressed the large ceramic and then turned to the priest.

“I am beyond grateful for your gesture” he said, “I shall accept your godly gift and I shall heed your words to my heart, I promise”

Maron nodded. He then took his veil, covered his face and then took his family, placed them all to their cart and slowly left the city. Odysseus had made sure no one would be getting in their way. He watched the priest go. He knew he would never see him again. And yet his heart felt a bit lighter. At least some part of him was still human…

***

A very VERY special thanks to my commenters from my previous part @cjbolan @dionysism @freetyphoonfire @tumblingghosts @theyugiohfanartistwritersblog

So this is the actual attack of Ismarus! Hahaha! Sorry if my descriptions are all over the place here! You see I wasn't sure what kind of tecnique Odysseus might use since he doesn't claim he gets any sort of loss during the charge. So yup! Here's me trying to imagine how an "Odysseus style plunder" might look like! Hahaha!

The inserting flashbacks was a thing inspired heavily from movies such as "The A Team"

The part of where you read "Odysseus you spawn of theives..." etc was of course a wink to my fanfiction Guilt Part 2 The part where Odysseus speaks about his heart feeling lighter and remembering Menelaus was also a wink to my fanfiction's third part Guilt Part 3

The cries of "Murderer" and "monster" were actually a wink to a fic I haven't read yet and to give you a light spoiler is again a hint to the cries of Hecuba mourning for the loss of her children, Polyxena in particular.

The knife in his armband was a wink to my tiny story Philoctetes Inspirations 2

Once more inspired by music by Kostas Kapnisis this time the one called "Μάχη" ("Battle")

as well as the main theme of the movie aka the titles sequence music:

I loved the heroic theme being inserted by tragic music and some violent drums. Seems so fitting for this!

Originally I wanted to finish this second part with Odysseus warning his men on leaving immediately and sharing the spoils but I thought it would be more impactful to finish it at the mercy shown upon Maron and his family instead.

I will certainly write a 3rd part for this and I am not sure if I will need a Part 4 too! Hahaha! I will need to see how big part 3 will become.

As before I wanna thank a few accounts that honored me before with insights comments reblogs and ideas (again terribly sorry if I forget anyone!)

@loco-bird @smokey07 @adrift-in-thyme @superkooku @marieisnothere12 @dilutedh2so4 @ditoob @tunguszka20 @ilov3b00kss0much @fangirlofallthefanthings @cr4zy-cycl0n3 @shafeeyaart @hermesmoly @insomniphic @blueflipflops @venomspecs @styberusartz @freetyphoonglitter @simugeuge

[starrysnowdrop]

Were there any barriers to you establishing your OCs relationship? Perhaps social or cultural stigma? Or a concern that "ships" with that character were already overdone? Or simply a fear of being seen as "cringe"? If so then how did you overcome this?

Ohhh now this is a good one, as this is something that I’ve been told, that I have inspired others to “overcome their fears” of shipping based on certain stigmas in the FFXIV fandom, so let’s get into it shall we? Oh and I will apologize in advance, as this WILL get long.

The Stigmas

Hali x Aymeric

So for Hali x Aymeric, the obvious stigma is that Hali is a lalafell, and Aymeric is not. Though I’ve seen lately that this stigma has waned a bit, especially here on Tumblr where people who infantilize lalas don’t seem to last long, but keep in mind that there is still plenty of lala infantilism on the bird app and other places like Reddit and in game.

For my main ship, that is really the only thing that I see that makes the ship “problematic” to some in the fandom; some people still see lalafells as “child-coded”, despite lalafells being a fantasy race of little people, no different to gnomes, hobbits, dwarves, etc. in other fantasy media, and despite the in game world treating lalafellin adults the same as any other race.

Yume x Zenos

(Yume’s blog: @firelightmuse)

So for Yume x Zenos, but also to a lesser extent Urania (Hali’s Azem) x Hermes, and my other secret ship that I haven’t revealed yet because it’s still in development, these ships fall into the category of being “problematic” because they are Hero x Villain ships at their core, and because Zenos, Hermes, and the secret ship partner are all major antagonists in the story, they have many haters.

Now there isn’t anything wrong with not liking certain characters, as I truly think we all have certain characters that we just don’t vibe with for one reason or another. But there is a problem, however, when people go after villain shippers just because they happen to not like those characters.

Just like with the Lala infantilism problem, villain ships get a lot of hate in the fandom, but for different reasons. I would guess that the main reason is the haters assume that villain shippers either don’t see that the villains have done bad things and/or try to minimize or excuse the villains’ bad behavior. Now I won’t say that there aren’t a few people out there who will truly excuse a villain’s bad behavior and try to make them out to not be as bad of a person as they are written in canon. But I really do think that there’s not as many of them as the haters are likely to believe.

Remember: just because someone is a fan of a villain doesn’t mean they agree with their actions, and a writer is NOT the same as their character. For example, Yume may minimize and/or downright ignore all of the pain and suffering Zenos has inflicted upon not only her, but innumerable others, doesn’t mean that I as Yume’s writer share the same views. I actually consider Yume to ride the thin line between anti-hero and villain herself, just so y’all know.

How to Overcome the Stigmas

So now that the individual stigmas of each of my ships have been outlined, how did I overcome the stigmas? And how difficult was it for me to do?

Well, if you’ve followed me for several years already, you might’ve seen that Hali, my lala WoL, is not the first WoL I have written. That honor goes to Yume, who is a Raen Au Ra and she doesn’t come with the same stigma that Hali does as a lalafell. So I had the privilege for several years of being able to write Yume without the infantilism that Hali would have to fight against in the fandom. But those years gave me enough courage in my own writing to create Hali and to fend off the stigma of lala x non-lala shipping and my own insecurities surrounding it.

Though it was difficult, and it took me a long time to do so, I eventually realized that I was happier and way more fulfilled when I wrote what I wanted to and not what I thought my followers or my friends or anyone else wanted. Trust me, I tried more “popular” and less “problematic” ships before, and even though they were nice at the time, I ultimately dropped them because I realized that I didn’t feel fulfilled, and that I was scared to write for more “problematic” ships because I feared the backlash.

One HUGE thing that I highly recommend is to find yourself a good support system to surround yourself with. Whether that be reaching out to your mutuals here on Tumblr or joining discord servers with like minded individuals, having people there who can help you through your journey in shipping will help greatly! Trust me, I wouldn’t be where I am today without my support system to be there for me when I’m having a bout of anxiety and/or insecurity with my writing.

Another thing that I highly recommend you do is to Unfollow, Hide, and/or Block haters liberally!! Please, it’s for your own mental health and wellbeing to do so! If you’re wanting to ship your lala oc for example, never hesitate to block the lala haters out there! No good will come from seeing the hate all over your feed, because it will just bring you down.

That’s about all I have for now. If you have any other questions on this subject, please do not hesitate to send me a message, DM, or ask!! I am always happy to help with any questions or advice when it comes to shipping! Thank you so much @mimble-sparklepudding for the ask, and thank you all for reading this very long winded answer!! 💖

[piratefern]

that's was Long and great explanation you can actually wrote a wattpad book of it! And I actually like the storyline it's really great and really felt bad for scp 049 :( honestly it was too much for poor birdie TvT

And yea why bother! I will like to read scp 035 one too ☆(≧∀≦*)ﾉ Thanks for taking my questions ( ˘ ³˘)♥

YIIPPEEEEE, thankyou so much :’D

alright with dyo, we’ll need some context too, in the sense that you will need to be aware of the original lore for Alagadda so id recommend reading the wiki if you haven’t already)

(Another note is that my version of Alagadda’s time doesn’t work linearly, so in this sense, it is entirely possible to enter alagadda during any time it exists, and exit to earth in a different era than when you left. It explains how the culture is affected by different eras in time, and this will be also important narratively!)

(He is originally from Alagadda as per the usual lore, except in my au he wasn’t banished to earth, and instead took refuge there, fleeing execution from the ambassador and other lords.)

In my au, dyo has a toxic sibling relationship with the other lords, ontop of this he’s also the shortest and the runtiest of the few and so was picked on, which lines him up to becoming the hanged king’s favourite as he was the easiest to manipulate.

Originally working as the jester for his king he is killed by a peasant uprising (as per the original lore) and is brought back to life three days later, offering his king a cup filled with the blood of his enemies gifted by the brothers death.

The lore follows the original story line from here in which he invites a bird like doctor to the palace to cure him of his influence of the hanged king (remember how time in alagadda isn’t linear? Yep, thats hasel! He finds a broken passage to alagadda after the point in which he has left dyo and just before the foundation finds him. He researches it and fixes it, hoping to find the “cure” for the vine on the other side)

Hasel doesn’t recognise dyo’s old form as the black lord and dyo at this point is yet to even meet hasel, and so neither of the two realise that they were intwined from the beginning.

after being cured by hasel and attempting to fight the influence of the hanged king, his execution is plotted against him by the other lords and the ambassador, and so, he escapes to earth.

yet, in my au the lords and the ambassador are still after dyo, but are unaware of his ware-abouts, Dyo destroys the portal which in turn wipes his entire memory, hoping that it will never be rebuilt again.

But didn’t hasel rebuild the portal? Uh oh! He did! Meaning he had unintentionally both freed and doomed his lover. Not only that, but the foundation had been tracking the signal that the portal had been omitting, causing the capture of both the portal and hasel! And, of course, the foundation would absolutely never destroy it!

On another note, sometimes memories of Alagadda will seep through the cracks, instances from the past that dyo forged reflect memories from his childhood and experiences in Alagadda.

Dyo landed in ancient Greece, and genuinely believes he is from there. He believes that he was a balatro (roman jester) for the king, and was fused to his mask by the ancient Greek gods as a punishment for stealing the golden wreath from the king of Rome.

However, it is evident that this story isn’t true, at the time Rome had a consul system not a king, and despite the fact Rome had capitulated Greece they didn’t share the same gods despite their similarities.

He makes his way through life, but aware of his immortality he drowns himself in alcohol and lavish parties. He doesn’t get close to anyone as he knows that they will one day die and that he will not, causing him to build bad behaviours, appear overtly cocky and confident, a tendency to avoid rejection as a side effect and a need to convince himself that everything is alright.

So! Imagine dyo, an immortal being, avoiding close relationships with anyone he meets and putting up a persona to avoid anyone liking him, finding another immortal being!I

He grows incredibly attached to hasel, for the first time in almost two millennia he doesn’t have to be alone anymore, he can finally learn how to open himself up and build on his issues and break down his persona.

But this causes abandonment and attachment issues, so you can imagine how he must have reacted when hasel leaves!

He can’t handle this, and embarks on a journey to find him again, this journey spanning over a century from WW1 to present day, in which he is also captured by the foundation and placed in the same facility as hasel… and the portal!

They are given their numbered codes 035 and 049, but with dyo being so close to the fixed portal he gradually begins to remember his past…

So yeah thats all im up to so far :3

i haven’t written anything past the foundation and the portal plot, but technically in the original draft i made with my partner a couple years back they escape with the help of Laurence (106). They learn to mend their broken relationship and also learn how to get along with laurence despite his creepiness, but that part is all old stuff so i might rewrite it. But the fact hasel leaves at WW1 was important, as this is around the time Laurence becomes anomalous, so it ties their stories in too :3

[whatfallsforever]

Hey guys isn’t it so cool how our spelunker RedCanary is named that? And how canaries were brought into mines, and their deaths would signal to the miners that they needed to leave before they died? The Canary is the first to die. And maybe RedCanary is dead, and maybe they’re not, but either way, they’re a symbol of the beginning of the horrible things to come

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Crazy issues that come up when a character is written a little too well

[boxofoxberry]

post this parrot when they least expect it

[semothekat]

me when im crazy about two characters that dont even know each other.

Thank you to @oathofkaslana for writing the id for this!!

[skrunksthatwunk]

why the fuck did i write about birds this fucking sucks. i just found out birds only sleep for a few minutes at a time, hundreds of times a day. do you know what this is going to do to my structure? the logistics of their road trip? this is already like three days late and i've been fighting for my life to get A Plot Like Any Plot That Makes Sense out and now the birds fucking sleep for 5 minutes at a time.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: A SHINING by Jon Fosse.

Reading this next! It's a shortie (to the tune of seventy-four (74) pages), and the whole thing appears to be one (1) unbroken paragraph, but, hey: at least there's punctuation, I guess? It's about a guy who's driving directionlessly, gets out of the car at a forest, and wanders around on foot as it starts to snow, and when he inevitably gets lost, he meets some weird glowing....entity. The jacket copy calls this "strange, haunting, and dreamlike," which. yeah. I'm here for that. Will report back on how this goes!