#don't remember the necro one

[necropathys]

a little treat? 🍨🐙

[vulpixelates]

😩 i truly have no fucking clue how to play gw2 anymore so i was planning to go through and make a leetle baby character to re-learn the ropes with, but all of my character slots are full of decked out level 80 characters who maybe have specializations and really cool gear but i can't really tell bc it's been so long

send help. what do i do lmao

ig i could jsut fuck around w my mains and try to remember how to play them?? i do remember that my daredevil is fucking hard to play tho so maybe i'll just uh. go for the ranger and hope it goes well aeoifja i need to get the pets that i've missed out on anyway?

BUT MAKING A NEW CHARACTER IS SO TEMPTING bc i really like one of the new sylvari hairs 👉👈

[mindfogs]

Gideon the ninth designs if I was tasked with making it a 2D animated series TAMSYN HIRE ME probably not very canon, more based on the movie in my head while reading, here's the second book designs

Sorry for the low quality tumblr threatened me to explode.. anyway, more comments under the cut if you are curious!

all necromancers have pointy ears. it's not in any way shape or form canon but i love pointy ears in my designs they have pointy ears

corona IS fat and has huge tiddies that's a hill i am more than willing to die on (doesn't look like it because she's front but i swear she has a belly)

gideon is 1,80, naberius is 1,73 (one foot shorter than her) and the twins are at least 1,85 (yeah i know i gave them heals i'm stupid)

Camilla is taller than Palamedes, no i don't accept criticism

Pal is well kept for a necro (i believe cam helps him be a little healthier than others)

abigail is also on the bigger side i remember gideon saying she hot a hint of a necromantic corporature and ate it up

initially i visualized "dulcinea" as the flower lady from encanto don't ask why, the flower motif remained

the kids both have dyed hair because it's cool

gideon has no sleeves lalalalalalalalalala i am not hearing youuuu (also very sorry i forgot to draw her armpit hair)

[katakaluptastrophy]

i feel like g1deon would probably have a good deal of body dysmorphia post-resurrection (though i do think that the more unflattering descriptions of him came from gideon, a lesbian who's textually grossed out by muscular men), because of the ...Everything in the way jod brought him back

The way Jod talks about modifying G-'s memory is particularly horrifying:

And my loved ones … The ones I left, I’ll bring back. I know I can. Even G—. In fact, G—’ll be easiest—he won’t remember the compound—none of them will have to remember anything. I know where remembrance lives in the brain, and he won’t have any of it. You know that too, don’t you? It’s the easiest thing in the world … to forget.”

The idea of what the original disciples can remember - or the ghosts of memories that don't quite come to the surface but still haunt them in some way is so horrifying.

I assume Jod induces some kind of retrograde amnesia, knocking out huge swathes of memory but leaving abilities and personality intact.

Even those who weren't regrown from an arm must have struggled with the incongruity between whatever memories of appearance their mind still had, or didn't quite have - something jarringly off in lost years. And that's assuming Jod didn't just make any modifications on a whimsy. (Is Mercy a strawberry blond described by a teenager who's never seen that in real life before or did Jod give her anime hair for funsies?)

But poor G1deon didn't just look older or younger or have different hair. Presumably all of the necros found something unsettling about how the new shape of their bodies sat with some inaccessible sense of self, but G1deon was at best an attempt by Jod to give him a muscular physique when the necromantic body simply can't usually sustain that (was he built before? Did the incongruity of the muscles without fat even when well hydrated sit wrongly in his mind? Or had he aspired to be but never was - was John trying to be nice in a horribly macabre way?) and at worst a shoddy job that might have felt dysmorphic even by comparison to others, let alone from half-submerged memories of self.

[starberry-cupcake]

This is a one chapter update because this chapter was 25 years long and I don't want my post to be also that long, even though you're all being super nice about it (thank you ♥).

previously, in harroweena the ninth:

this happened

now, chapter 6:

harrowbean wakes up and is taken somewhere in a wheelchair

we get no sleep in this ship

we get no face paint, no black robes, no sleep, no security from people who wanna suffocate you in your sleep, no explanations

lyctors need a union

as in unionization, not as in a combination of people, that they did when slurping their cavaliers

the person carrying her is very upset at everyone

turns out, she's a lyctor

her name is mercysomething

we have an ortus 2, a mercysomething and an augustine

harrow mentions eyes again and says that Lyctors "kept their own faces, but the eyes they stole from someone else. You had been lucky that your own transition was not as startling"

Lucky, you say...

I don't know about that

anyway, this mercysomething is supposed to be the saint of joy

I'm assuming lyctors are given their names through the ancient art of sarcasm

on that note

harrow: "if you had not of late become the Saint of Emesis"

me: wait, I gotta look something up real quick

me: yeah, that's funny

mercysomething is angry and in a hurry

a bunch of time is spent with mercysomething being angry and treating people like crap and being unpleasant

she's arguing with everyone she comes across and takes harrow to a hangar

yandere twin is sitting on a crate watching a necromancer make a ward with blood and bleeding to death in the process

harrow sits next to her and they are like sportscasters of blood-painted wards

according to the necrocasters, it's a ghost ward

yandere twin updates harrow on the fact that they're at war and they've been attacked and they're down to three Old Lyctors and two Baby Lyctors

it would explain why mercysomething is upset all the time

mercysomething wants to take the emperor somewhere else and the guy commanding the ship doesn't want to let him leave

emperor guy comes in and kind of does this to mercysomething

yandere twin and I are LIVING for all this pute/salseo/gossip/however you wanna call it

harrow isn't as interested

I complained in gideon because gideon wasn't interested in things I wanted to look into and now I'm gonna complain about harrow not being interested in Drama

emperor the fool says: "I know exactly who is behind this terrible blow, and they were fools to show their hand"

yandere twin and I

when emperor guy sees the necromancer bleeding out he goes "for fuck's sake"

it's a quote, not me being funny ha ha

remember when I said this guy is a mess?

that's becoming exponentially more evident

I want to punch him in the face at all times

I don't know how people can be respectful to this dude

the reason there isn't any face paint for harrow in this ship is that the emperor uses it every morning to paint on his clown face

they've been alive like 1000 years or whatnot and they're all a fucking group project going off the rails

so emperor guy, mercysomething, not!dulcinea (now in a coffin package), yandere twin and harrow get in a ship inside the ship

a smaller ship inside the big ship where the emperor has been for the past bunch of years

the small ship has the blood ward for the ghosts

but, before going in, emperor the fool fixes the necro that's bleeding to death

I honestly think she would have preferred to just die

which, same, if he was my boss

necros also need to unionize

cavaliers more than anyone tbh

if cavaliers unionized, idk if there would be any lyctors

emperor guy and mercysomething argue about people they know and we don't yet know

and mercysomething was telling harrow previously that the former ninth was prettier than her (anastasia, heart don't fail me now, courage don't desert me) and telling yandere twin the former third was prettier than her (cyrus? cyril? something like that)

which, absolutely juvenile behavior for someone who's like a 1000+ years of age or whatever

why would we care who she finds prettier????

ANYWAY, throughout this I was once again thinking

nobody here has G & P initials

it's been driving me mad this whole time

gideon and harrow found that former lyctor quarters

and it said "ONE FLESH, ONE END. G. & P."

that was before the note with gideon's name in it was read

and all this time I was thinking those were a set of necro-cav from the previous lyctors

but nobody here has those initials

the only P is the cavalier of Ortus 2 and there's no G

which is DRIVING ME MAD

if the G is the previous Gideon, the one not!dulcinea mentioned, it would explain why there was a note that mentioned a Gideon in the quarters

it would not, however, explain who the fuck that other gideon is, who P is and why they aren't in the list with the other combos

augustine is a former fifth because his cav's last name is quinque

mercysomething's from the eighth because her cav's last name is oct, and because she's annoying to be around

ortus 2 is from the second, because his cav's last name is dve

cyril cyrus whatev is from the third because the cav is trinit and mercysomething mentioned him to yandere twin, who is from the third

ulysses is from the fourth because the cav is tetra

not!dulcinea is seventh because the cav was heptane and because it was a very important thing in the previous book, as we've established

anastasia (dancing bears, painted wings) is from the ninth because the cav is novenary and she was mentioned to harrow

cassiopeia must be sixth, because it's what I have left, but I don't recognize the root of the last name to make a clear parallel from the top of my head

the emperor's guardian is A.L.

I'm taking note of an emperor's guardian who isn't around anymore

could it be ice cube barbie???? idk fam, she's looking at him a lot

giving me magic knight rayearth vibes again

this but with backstabbing instead of love

ANYWAY, all of this to point out that there's no G & P and it's driving me up the wall

now, to a very important thing

VERY IMPORTANT

for me, maybe it's just me

the enemies or whatever are called "remnants" and their leader apparently has been gone for "nearly 20 years"

this is me desperately making timelines with gideon's mom and gideon's birth and the 2 details I know about gideon's mom and her birth

you know what, I'm gonna quote, since I went to fetch it

"One day eighteen years ago, Gideon's mother had tumbled down the middle of the shaft in the drag chute and a battered hazard suit, like some moth drifting slowly down into the dark. The suit had been out of power for a couple of minutes. The woman landed brain-dead. All the battery power had been sucked away by a bio-container plugged into the suit, the kind you'd carry a transplant limb in, and inside that container was Gideon, only a day old."

I'm gonna just...put a pin on that that in the cork board

I don't know you guys, I'm just gonna

let me pin that

I'm probably being wrong a lot more than what I'm getting right but I'm just telling you what goes through my mind, if I'm making a fool of myself, it's too late to act like I'm not a fool

I am also putting my clown paint on like the emperor

MOVING ON

harrow thinks the emperor talks in plural about her at one point and idk if that's the case tbh

we then get emperor guy explaining how they need to go to their safe space base with a name I can't remember

a fancy name very lord-of-the-rings-y

let's call it emperor's mojo dojo casa house

and to get there as quick as they need to, they have to cut through the River

the one with the ghosties and ghoulies

that's what the ward was for

if they went through regular means, it'd take too long and, doing it this way, they could be there super fast, but they need to get in the River and come out the other way in the right spot

and intact

so it's this situation

so, in order to do that, they have to hold on to their souls and their cav souls and whatever they've got using the skills from the first test

I want to point out, once again, WHO PLANNED CANAAN HOUSE AS A TOOL TO GET LYCTORS TO LEARN THINGS?????

THEY WERE NOT DOING ALL THE TESTS

THEY WERE FIGHTING FOR THE KEYS

SOME DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THERE WERE TESTS TO BEGIN WITH

JUDITH WAS LIVING IN LAW AND ORDER

we didn't even get to all the tests, people started dropping like flies

because the emperor had one loose lyctor who thought she was in a telenovela

ANYWAY

the point is, if they drift too far while crossing the River, something else can come into their bodies

we did learn that, because it happened to duracell bunny nephew back in canaan house

but we learned it because mayonnaise uncle thought he was tough shit and ruined it, not because of the tests

harrow, doing her best, thinks "you felt alone in your head"

WHICH IS GREAT for our gideon notes

also, no camilla mention or appearance in this one

(I'm having a lizzie bennet theme going on for Reasons for the time being)

so, we're leaving harrow and yandere twin trying to learn for the first time how to not die by crossing the River because the emperor plans things terribly and mercysomething is too preoccupied being upset at everything all the time

[liesmyth]

was so close to sleep when i thought of this that i absolutely had to log in and ask: do you think john forgot the original names of his friends, or do you think he remembers them, a mausoleum those- who-will-never-be? or do you think that he has forgotten them— one day he slept with the names somewhere in his noggin and the next day he simply couldn’t remember? that brings up quite a bit actually, since lyctor’s have this all powerful control over their bodies can they bring back old memories? i mean the neurons must still be somewhere up there right? where does it stop being physiological and starts into the realm of the intangible, but then again necros fuck around with spirits, so who is to say what is tangible?

do you think john uses their names as passwords

OK SO. It's very important to me that the memory loss was something John did on purpose, because it makes the story more compelling (TO ME) but I really, love the idea that he truly forgot their names. What if, in the chaos of ascending to godhood, that was something that just... slipped out? A detail of his human life forgotten? It's just so sad and compelling to me.

(I also like the idea that he deliberately renamed them when he could have just give them back their old names as a way to trace a line in the sand. I can see both of these scenarios! But I read so I open the window to hear sounds of people immediately after Nona came out and it made such a good use of "John forgot" as a headcanon. It HIT for me)

Also! I don't think Lyctoral abilities could bring back their lost memories because TO ME it was something John did the moment he brought them back to life. I know Mercy says "you could take away my memories" to John in HtN, but we don't know whether 1) she actually means it — could be that she's just trying to trick John into doing something she knows she can undo; or 2) Mercy THINKS John can do it, but he actually knows he couldn't. I don't think John has ever manipulated the memories of his Lyctors post-resurrection because I can't see it from the way he acts around them — he badly wants to be loved by them as who he is, and I don't think he'd be that pressed if he'd mindfucked them in the past. I think it was something that happened parallel to the resurrection, a part of their souls that was locked away more than a manipulation of their brains. I doubt John could undo it if he tried. It's heavily implied that Pyrrha remembers being P—, but it only happened after she died. (So, hypothetically, if Augustine ever re-emerged from the stoma... who's to say)

These are just speculation though!

[silence-burns]

The Death of Me //part 3

Fandom: Aquaman

Summary: (very small spoilers for the movie) Finding Orm on your doorstep was not something you expected. Having him move in was even worse. But the effect he still had on every part of your life would be the death of you.

“Try not to drown. It would be awkward.”

Orm watched you disappear into the bathroom, angry or embarrassed to the point of momentarily forgetting about your exhaustion. It was such a relief after spending hours watching your feverish, unresponsive body. He couldn’t help but smile.

He wasn't used to sitting idle, which led him to start cleaning up the house during those few hours and familiarizing himself with the rooms. Orm was now a free man, left to live his life however he wanted. And yet, when Arthur came to him with a certain proposition, he didn't even think before agreeing.

What he's said before was true—Orm did feel indebted to you for everything you'd done over the years. But it wasn't the main reason he dropped everything and allowed Arthur to bring him to the sea house.

Orm used the opportunity of having you out of bed (if it could even be called that) to clean it up and take off the bed sheets. A surprising amount of human medicine rolled out from various crevices of crumpled blankets, which he put on the table to carefully read about later. Human ingenuity managed to surprise him every now and then, and instructions printed on every surface possible were something he appreciated.

He heard the water run in the shower, which was a good sign. So far, no screams, shouts or sounds of a body hitting the floor broke the peaceful evening. Orm wouldn't mind it staying that way.

It took him a few moments to figure out the way human bed sheets were supposed to be used. Everything felt new to him, but he took pride in every step. There was a certain novelty to doing things wrong and not having a whole nation watching.

The lock opened with a mechanical click. You stood in the doorway, looking pale and wet, resembling a wet rat Orm had once seen in a canal. The loose shirt you put on had a lot of soaked spots.

“I can't take it off.”

Orm moved his eyes away from the shirt clinging to your body. “Pardon?”

Your lips formed a thin, anxious line. “The old bandage. Even after I soaked it, I can't take parts of it off.”

Orm knew he'd sooner grow old and turn to dust than hear from you words such as ‘Please, could you help me? I can't do this on my own.’ In any other person, such a trait would endlessly annoy him.

“Let me have a try.” It was a perfectly diplomatic answer that made you walk back into the bathroom.

You leaned over the sink with your back to him and pulled the shirt up. From up close, Orm realized that some of the wet patches on the shirt came from blood. Removing even part of the bandages resulted in aggravating the wounds again, and pulling on the ones that were stuck hard only made it worse.

For a moment, Orm beheld the scale of the task. “What happened to you again?”

“A building.”

It looked as if you were dragged through a few of them. Repeatedly.

“...must've been a big one.”

“Your brother has a talent of making the worst possible choices.”

“Hard to argue with that.”

His heart hurt when he started pulling on the scabbed wounds that had dried with pieces of bandage and dressing inside the wound. He was no medic, but he'd been in enough duels and fights not to overlook unhealed injuries. With lips pressed thin, he tried to be as gentle as possible, but his work was difficult.

He was impressed you didn't flinch or curse. Orm only heard quiet hisses from you and noticed your heavy breathing.

“I'm sorry it's taking so long,” he broke the silence after a while, thinking it would distract you enough. “I wish we had some of the Atlantean medicine that could speed this up.”

“I actually might still have some in the cabinet to your left from that time we fought those necros. Your healers gave me a lot, but I don't remember which is which.”

Orm froze. “And you're only telling me this now?”

“In my defense, I didn't even remember about it until you asked.”

Orm dropped the paper towels he used to wipe the blood off your back into the sink. He found a crumpled bag with a few small, familiar jars. Some of the medicine had already dried out, but the one he was searching for remained intact.

“It's a good thing you didn't throw them out. This one is a special salve; it breaks the bond between dried out wounds and cleans them.”

Orm layered it thickly, working fast and trying his best to focus only on your injuries. Your skin was hot under his fingers and smelled vaguely of soap.

“I tried to soak them under the shower, but it didn't really help.”

“There was not enough water.”

You frowned and raised your head a little to look at Orm in the mirror. He seemed to be engrossed in cleaning the scabs and fabric off. Even though the pain subsided significantly, something still bothered you.

“...I'm pretty sure there was a decent amount of water in the water that I used.”

“Not enough, apparently.”

“In what other terms may I present to you thousands of years of Atlantean technology development that went into producing this salve? Its effects are greatly enhanced.”

“Did you just say my water is too dry??”

“Ah, right. I forgot you're the water experts. Should I start calling you professor?”

Orm tightened the bandage as he caught your eyes in the mirror.

“You can call me whatever you want, as long as it keeps you alive.”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you were sure that despite the bruises and bandages, Orm could clearly see what his words did to you. You cleared your throat, breaking eye contact first.

“I'm sure you think you sound cool, but you might've overlooked the possibility of me abusing such power easily and with a smile on my face, Salve Master.”

Orm chuckled. His fingers lingered around your waist. “You'll be the death of me. But as I've said—whatever keeps you going.”

And then he suddenly turned you around and lifted you over his shoulder. Too stunned to fight back, you found yourself carried out of the bathroom.

[juniperdugong]

Perfection Pt.1; Awaken

Your soul is stuck in your corpse after your tragic demise...lucky for you the mortician who's prepping your body is a hopeless romantic willing to bring you back to the land of the living

Pairing: mortician!mingyu x corpse!fem!reader

Genre: Mortician!au, Horror!au || Fluff, Crack, Romance, Angst

Warnings: Mentions of death, corpses, and gore (Nothing in-depth and nothing intended to disturb) || Heavily implied suicide || Necro-romance, aka romantic attraction to a corpse. || Nudity || {Please let me know if there are other warnings you would like me to add}

WC: 2.4k

Songs that inspired this fic

Series Masterlist

If we can get our truths out now, you know exactly how you died.

This must've been the worst year of your life. The contents of it are blurry due to the effects of your soul and its current condition but you remember the feelings well enough. Although the memories didn't stick you remember the sinking pit that it felt like you were swimming in. Too far from the top to go back and too far from the bottom to see an end to what was an incredible amount of emotional suffering.

The one memory you do have is one of surrender. Relinquishing all your emotions and all the pain into a single, unforgivable action. There is no excuse but your room just felt so empty then. It had all your things in it but it didn't have you, you were not there. Your mind had wandered away with the joy, the joy that you were sure you hadn't felt in months maybe years. And the unfortunate thing about a mind that wanders too far from the body is that the body will do whatever it can to get its mind back.

This leads to the only reasonable-awful-but reasonable way to ground a person completely. Death.

For a split second before you did it, for just a moment before the full surrender, you thought "I wish I had someone to stop me.". At that moment, a really quick moment might I add, the thought of loving someone, the thought of someone loving you through all of the hardships and pain, it might've stopped you. But you didn't have anyone, did you? You had been lost and wandering for a while and it was time to come back home. You had no one to call you back so, yeah, you had to call yourself back.

And so you did.

The awakening process for a soul that has refused to move on, despite the wishes and through the confusion of the person themself, is an interesting one. It is almost like that feeling right before you go to sleep. You remember what you did up to a point and then you don't remember having actually fallen asleep. Or to be more correct you don't remember dropping dead. Then, with no prior warning or vision of heaven or whatever movies may have you believe this experience might be, you woke but you woke in a dark and cold space. An unfamiliar space. The laughter of a man could be heard from above you, you think. And in the middle of your reeling, you are met with blinding fluorescents.

The morgue.

For the sake of brevity and to not bore you with your own story I won't go into the processes that go on within the walls of a morgue. More or less it's identification, waiting, maybe an autopsy, and more waiting. Then you are shipped off in a body bag to either a mortuary or a funeral home. Lucky for you a mortuary was more than satisfactory.

Some amount of time passed before you felt yourself be lifted out of the car and onto some sort of table or stretcher. Now it seemed you were in the care of only one person. Quite strong as well to be able to handle the dead weight (no pun intended) of yourself. The sound of the zipper would've sent you jumping if you were able but perhaps more surprising was the visage before you.

A tall and handsome man, tan skin showing through what little you could see behind the protective gear he wore. Dark eyes studied you immediately and for some reason, you could feel them soften as they looked upon you. You didn't feel discomfort, in fact, a warming and welcoming feeling came to contrast the cold of-well-your everything at the current moment. The aura that came off the man was something like stepping into the home of the friendliest person you've ever met.

And he was oh so gentle with you. The way he was careful with his movements as he heaved your stretcher onto the main table. Your eyes followed him as he went ahead and gathered various things from around the room. Setting them on a smaller table next to you. A deep breath settled in him as he scanned your body.

You felt vulnerable in this state, not much you could do about it but still. He got a clipboard and read through it. "Y/n…" your name rolled off his tongue like a small prayer. He circled you, tapping gently at different parts of your body as he went along. Assessing your situation and what he would have to make "presentable" no doubt. Then he stopped. Pausing as he made his way back towards your head. Another sigh as he gazed at you.

"You were so pretty. I wish we had met under other circumstances y/n."

If a heart was in your body it would be beating so fast right now. His hand reached out and grazed your forehead. Is he moving the hair from your face? If you had working veins you would be blushing wildly.

This is crazy. You've decided that this is crazy. Your soul for some reason has decided to stick to your body instead of following the heavenly trumpets towards the pearly gates of paradise. And here you were, prisoner in your own skin, unable to move or speak or do much of anything. And the only thing on your mind is the man who is preparing your body???

Oh, Christ. What the actual hell is happening?

Also, why does it seem like the mortician is just as invested in you? Are morticians supposed to have organ jars in their preparation rooms? You suppose they do take care of those sorts of things, plus he's the professional in this situation, right?

"The more I look at you…The more I wish…What am I saying?" he shook his head with a huff.

Your eyes were open, not like you could willingly close them, but you were somehow able to see in this state. You could see the way the protective gown fell on his arm, very faintly outlining some sort of muscle. The way his breath caught on the mask, not shallowly at all either, a heavy breath. Almost like when he looked at you you had taken it away and he was grasping to get it back. The gloves that held snug to his big fingers, his warm hands, the ones that graced you gently with every touch. So caught up in memorizing his features you hadn't noticed that he was tracing your inner arm and staring right back at your lifeless eyes.

"Actually, you might be perfect and these might just be perfect circumstances y/n…" he tilted his head as he said those words, gazing deeply at all of you, taking you in like some person at the other end of the bar.

Why was he walking away? What did he mean by perfect? Is he walking over with one of those jars right now? Lord, you should've followed the trumpets you thought. And then the giggle came in. Like a wrecking ball to the heart, the man let out a sound of excitement and happiness. The confusion that writhed through you at this moment was unparalleled by anything experienced by anyone before. Not only are you dead but now you have some sort of weird mortician, handsome, but weird on your hands.

He came back, his arms full of the organ jars from the shelves. "Y'know some of your own should suffice for this little experiment but I always tend to keep extras…", he said this in haste as he set up a plethora of equipment around your body. For what it's worth you could listen to him talk about whatever nonsense he was on about for hours.

"I always was a fan of Frankenstein. It inspired me to do this profession, actually. I know strange but even stranger is my need for you at this moment. Sorry. Not in that way, not in a disrespectful manner at all if I am being forward. But your circumstance saddened me and well- it does not help that you are so beautiful. AH! I am getting ahead of myself. I must wait until I know that you are here and that you are mine, y/n. Forgive my rudeness."

He was frazzled and all over the place. His speech was punctuated by heavy breaths and before you can even begin to process his mess of words he is discarding the protective gear. The only things he thinks worth keeping on being his apron and gloves.

In the corner, although you cannot see it from this angle, sits a computer. Mingyu weaves around wires to get to it. His fingers work at a fast pace as he types. "I knew it. It's all just perfect. It truly is. I could just jump with joy!". Mingyu had confirmed his suspicions or rather confirmed if his memory was correct. There was a chance for a storm tonight and everything just kept lining up for him. As if a gift from god themself here you are, there the storm is, and here's Mingyu ready to conduct a risky experiment, one that he's been building up in his head for years, one that he honestly did not think would happen within his lifetime. It was just a hobby, a thing not meant to occur, and more than that it was probably illegal.

But he didn't care. He just knew, a gut instinct if you will, that you were the one. The person he was meant to be with. Love at first sight some might call it, he sure thinks it is anyway.

Hours passed as he continued with his ministrations of gathering items and setting them up. The sun began to set and Mingyu's confidence rose. The table where you lay was wheeled into the middle of the room, you hadn't noticed it before but there was a skylight in the ceiling. A large one at that. He centered you as best he could to match the opening and began to dig metal hooks into your skin at different points. Although gruesome in my wording these punctures did not hurt you. They felt like a pinch to the skin that left nothing in the way of actual pain.

He hummed and smiled as he went about this work. The last thing he did as he began to hear the pitter-patter of rain outside was give you another once over. His eyes were at their most intense. Taking great care in making sure all of your details were perfect. Fixing your hair in the way the picture he had of you instructed, moving your hands to be at your navel, and stretching out your joints which had been effected by rigor mortis many hours prior.

"Perfect. Really and truly." he tried to calm himself of the adrenaline rush that had been keeping him on his feet the entire time. He sat on the rolling stool near the computer using his feet to make his way towards you once again. From a lower angle, you could just barely see his figure from here. He gathered himself and a sad look overtook his face.

"God, what are you doing Mingyu? This is crazy. The probability is so so so low. And look at you. Sat here in front of the most enchanting person you've ever met and they're dead… If this doesn't work then what? I give up on love? I try to date again? Knowing that no one has set my heart ablaze so immediately as the one before me now? No. If this does not work I will just have to admit myself. This would be the heartbreak to define my life." He took in a big breath before allowing it to leave his lungs completely empty. He took off his gloves and rolled his sweaty palms along the length of his thighs.

"I have gotten this far, it is time."

Rolling thunder shattered through the night sky. Mingyu began to pull a chain and the skylight opened. Droplets of water started to saturate your skin. He turned his attention to the computer bringing up some program that allowed him to control the various devices he had set up. The whirring of machinery is all you can hear as he sets lighting rods to lift up at the top of the mortuary.

A crack of thunder whips through the air. 1…2…3…Then the lightning scorched its bright head in the sky. The storm kicked up, your body was at this point soaked in rainwater as the shallow table tried its best to keep the surface tension of the water at bay. WRSHKKK the thunder once again, 1…2…The lightning seemed all the more close as it flashed before your eyes.

Then time stood still, what was nothing but seconds stretched until you were almost sure you were outside of space and time. The water hits your face, seeping into your eyes because you cannot close them. Your view only being the sky but what you heard could bring you tears, thankfully the rain allowed your face to communicate your emotional intent as beads fell from your eyes like the statue of Mary. Amongst the chaos of the storm, a chant-like prayer is whispered as Mingyu makes his towards you in strides. Standing at your head, towering over you, he leans down and with the gentleness of a man defined by love that makes him soft, his lips graze your forehead as he says "Please y/n, please." repeatedly finishing each prayer with a peck to your cold, wet skin.

KRSHHK the thunder growled with ferocity, 1…The lightning finally answered the plea.

A forceful blast flung Mingyu back, leaving him to hold onto the counter behind him. Every device alight as electricity surged through their wires, all of them leading to you in a maze of information and metal.

And as that energy reached your body you were enraptured in pain and ecstasy and every single physical feeling a human could possibly feel. As if you were being held gently while needles pierced your nerves, like floating on a cloud of cotton as you were being burnt alive. Every sensation came online all at once and it was exhilarating. The rain on your skin felt cold and burning. Your soul and body finally connect with existential bliss as they reunite. You felt everything.

Then your lungs finally filled with air. Your chest began to heave as your heart caught up to the fact that you were here again. Blood coursed through your veins and warmed your skin.

With a jolt you were alive and awake.

…And also falling off the table.

A/N: It's out! I really do hope you all enjoy the weirdness that is this fic. I tried my best to not be too descriptive with the details of death and the body, trying to focus more on the emotional than anything. Let me know what you think and please reblog if you liked it and would like to see more!

{If you're interested in being on the Taglist for this series please let me know!!}

[marchsfreakshow]

A Little Piece Of Heaven [James Patrick March]

Angst / smut implications/ fluff all wrapped up in a confusing bow.

You were just a victim all those years ago, now a rotting ghost stuck in a boarded up hallway. Wasting your ghostly days away, until the wall, suddenly gets knocked down.

Absolutely NOT inspired by an a7x song /sarc. I was listening to it and just thought of something I could write with it. :)

Warnings: small reference to necro (it's in the song too don't worry) misgendering Liz a few times I'm sorry. James touching your wounds. Fem!reader.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

How long had it been since you saw day?

Since you saw a nick of sleep?

The faint burst of hunger in your stomach explode?

It was all unwelcome. The last you remember? Sleeping. Peacefully in your hotel bed. It was, a bit scratchy, but any sleep was sleep. The early dawn reaching you, just for your breath to hitch. Eyes widened as a gentlemanly figure stood tall over your tired body. Who was this person? Wasn't your hotel room locked? Nerves as your heart raced, locking eyes with your perpetrator. "If I hadn't sworn my heart to my darling Elizabeth, why, I would've courted you instead." The man sighed happily, a silky, transcendental voice. Confusion ran over your furrowed eyebrows. A dry throat as an answer was being racked in your brain. But his voice, my that could've sung you to sleep again if you weren't careful.

Being in your nightgown for so long...it was cold. Everything, all the time was cold. Why on earth? But, somehow always in the presence of...Ruldoph Valentino, and Natacha Rombav. It was always intimidating. The way they stared at your stature, and how you held your arms over your chest always; it was hunger. They've tried. They had tried for the past.... something years. Always tried to take a bite, and have some food, but nothing appeared. It infuriating to the pair. Stuck in here with you, since...since...whenever! Time didn't have a meaning anymore. The three of you begged, squealed, screamed and wailed in front of the uninviting wall. Just needing someone to bring you out of it. It was only as the angry years rolled by you realised you were probably dead. A ghost silently and angrily roaming. Such a soul, unable to leave a place like The Hotel Cortez. Was that why you were so cold? Unable to feel anything if the two nicked at your arms?

Questions just ran through your head always. Who was Elizabeth? Was she as beautiful as you thought? The mystery man only spoke of her and, how she felt, as he walked you down this hallway. His big hand on the small of your back, and a sinning smile plastered on his face. A smile almost resembling the devil's wicked smile. How he felt, similar to the sinners being condemned to nothing but pain for the rest of their lives. Sure what he wanted was wrong, but he didn't find anyone else as pretty, and never brought harm to his wonderful wife. She was too gorgeous to touch.

One or two open rooms, so he brought you into a random room, setting your hazy self onto the lonely bed. "Such a beauty.." the man whispered. Blurry eyes found his face again, eyes almost made to look friendly, a thin moustache adding to his look. What a feeling stuck to your heart. A feeling of want and belonging with this man, but knowing he was a married man. You weren't a harlot! Certainly not a tired one. Despite the blurry face, finding you beautiful, it was always certain that he adored his wife so much more. The way he spoke of her, it was like Lucifer had found another fallen angel...one just as similar as him, desperate for some odd chaos in the perfect chaos of heaven. if only you could find the odd in perfect.

But no, you were laid lazily, blinking back any tiredness. He was kneeled by a small heater. Putting some fuel in it. Your-

"HEY! I've been calling you for the past few minutes." Natacha's voice bringing your head up to meet hers. The dust and grey from her, falling onto you. You just nodded and stood, going to follow her. Leaving the room where your corpse had rotted away, and into the lonely hallway once again.

Light.

Light? Was it real? Two men walked into the hall nervously, shining torches? Down the walls. They only took a few steps before the desperate couple practically devoured them. Leaving no blood to waste. Nearly 100 years of hunger would drive anyone insane, you understood that even if you were just a ghost. Watching them feed scared you, but you thanked the gods you were dead. You were dead. That realisation you made years ago only rang true now. Now you were stepping outside of that trapped hallway.

It was only wonder that filled your 'innocent' mind. Taking steps like a fawn for the first time. Shaky, nervous, and feeling like falling. It was just, so bright outside the hallway. Unnaturally bright. It hurt. Why did it hurt so much? Feeling like a zombie despite only being a walking soul. A shell of someone once living. A shell of an unwanted, unloved human, living lonely in the background of others.

Other souls were amongst you, it seemed. Plenty of them. They were all just as bad as the blood-sucking actors you loved so much when you were alive. All craving to cause such chaos. Cause a little bloodshed when bored of living in their own heads. These living halls and walls were, identical. It would've maddened you, if not for the fact you followed the room numbers. This was a hotel, wasn't it? It most likely still was. But every wallpaper, every carpet and door were identical to the 20s. Almost like they weren't allowed to change anything about it.

legs at the edge of the bed, hanging over a little. Was the man putting the heater on? How kind of him. But he didn't fully put it on. Once stood up straight, he looked back at you. Blurry eyes now looking up at him normally. No ounce of softening in his heart. His eyes hardening on your torso. Blush settling on your face. This was absolutely wrong. However, there was an idea that running wasn't your best idea right now. Whatever was about to happen. Then, a small unsheathing. Heart rate quickening as the silver metal met your eyes. That was a knife. A knife?! No, no no...

The man noticed your eyes, your heartbeat, and gave a sadistic little chuckle. What on earth was he planning? Whatever you thought was pushed away as the cold metal pressed against your neck. The feeling made you shiver, your instinct to fight him large. The instinct to give him and let him murder you; larger. Your life felt useless, this would be the perfect way to go. Despite that, you placed a hand over his, to push him away. Such worked hands, such scars. A finger ran over his knuckles, without notice. But he raised an eyebrow at you, almost disgustingly taking your hand off his and placing it back on your chest. What had gotten into you? Whore... It made mystery man cut you quicker. Your chest, then your neck.

Death. It consumed you quick. Sweet, dark warmth, eating you. It wasn't like you expected. No purgatory, deciding heaven or hell. No. A few minutes of nothing before your eyes awoke to a scene you never thought you'd see. This mystery man, experimenting with your body. Using the heater against your, tempting thighs to warm you up. What would this Elizabeth think?! Nothing else crossed you, as you stood quietly, attempting to not pay attention to whatever it was he was doing.

"You seem new, but old at the same time." A person's voice rang out. It stopped you in your steps and looking up, you were met with a woman? He looked like a woman and spoke effeminately. He must have been a transvestite or something.

In light of your manners returning to you, you cleared your throat, but the voice that came out was still scratchy and throaty. "um. I have been in a hallway, the wall, has been destroyed." Looking down at yourself, you dusted down your nightgown. Then you remembered you were in your nightgown. How embarrassing...the worst thing you could have died in!

The person didn't respond, and instead, you heard his heels click as he walked behind you, probably towards where you had come from. Gulping nervously, you looked and then just swished your head away, carrying on. Now with the embarrassing fact that everyone will see you in your sleeping gown. Something meant for only you. Walking seemed fun now though. You weren't sure about the year, but everything truly was the same.

Ah, an elevator. Just waiting after you pressed the up button, and stepping into it. Oh, what floor were you going to? Uh, this one! You randomly pressed a floor button out of nerves, accepting that you would just get to explore for ages, meeting other freaks and surprises around. It was still such an interesting hotel, and there must have been some changes right? Well, you exited the elevator and started to walk. Walking this direction, this way, over here instead. Muffled noises went past you. Talking, screaming, moaning. Such a lively hotel.

Oh. An open door. 64 the number plate read. Even if the door was open, you knocked and heard a "come in." The voice was so familiar to you. But you couldn't place it. Like a faint memory, you could blurrily place together. It was smooth, sweet and transcendental. You stepped through your cloud of thoughts into the room and looked around.

"I truly am sorry for my appearance, I um, I'm unaware of this place and don't have any other clothes on me." You admitted sheepishly, eyes meeting the man's back. That suit. It was... something else about it. The voice, this, pinned suit, why was it so close but distant to your memory?

As soon as you spoke, the man spun on his heel, and almost dropped his drink when his eyes met yours. Oh. Oh! This was...your murderer. No. It couldn't've been. He would've died years and years ago. But, my he looked so similar to the one who took your last breath. "...you got out?" That was all he said. Shakily, you nodded and stepped back, barefoot on the uncomfortable frame of the door. The way he met your eyes after roaming your body, it was almost animalistic. An urge he'd never have again if he lost you.

Both of you snapped and you ran. You ran through the hallways. Mystery man chasing you slowly. But with every long step he took, and every look back, he seemed closer and closer. How was this real? No, dreaming. The both of you circled back to room 64. Rushing in, you shut the door and slammed yourself into the bathroom. Mystery man was just as fast. Entering the room a few minutes later with an almost sadistic chuckle. Oh, you shouldn't be feeling this pit of warmth right now. What was wrong with you? This chase, still unknowing of his name after this long... "You cannot hide for long my bird. I know you have questions."

It was true. Your brain was rattled with questions. Who was he? Why did he kill you? Why were you feeling this pit at his laugh? Why was he so- Absolutely not. He was your murderer. When did he die? So silent minutes passed quickly before you opened the door with a deep inhale and exhale.

Nervous eyes meeting dead ones. Practically soulless despite his soul standing in front of yours. He smiled a fake smile at you, taking your hand like a gentleman. Leading you to a chair and sitting you in it, placing a small drink of whiskey in front of you. "Ask me my bird."

"Who are you." It was a statement more than a question, but it was the one looming at the forefront.

"James Patrick March. I built this hotel, I ghost it." Your eyes flickered with a burn. Nearly all your questions were answered already. He was the creator of this building, it was something you had heard of, but you didn't take too much interest.

"Okay. Well then..who was Elizabeth?" Your heart tugged at the question. Always compared to such a lady before your death. A useful death, but with a comparison, you had to know. But, he told you. Everything. James told you every single little detail. She was still here but didn't care for him. A little bit of relief washed over you. A bit. Whatever this feeling was in your...stomach? was, it was annoying, and you despised it. Pushing it down with the mention that he still cares for her. Meeting with her every month for dinner, catering to any want to ask she asks of her. A pathetic puppy whining at its master's leg for some attention. James was so...proper...and neutral.

"...if that's the case, why did you say that if you weren't courting her, you would court me instead? All those years ago." He hasn't thought about your death in years. He's murdered dozens as time went on and on. He's experimented, failed some and won others. You remembered his words to you?

"You are indeed beautiful bird, and I would have. At that time, I loved The Countess dearly. I still do. She is my one. While I have not had any idea to court anyone else within the time of our agreement, it is occasionally a lingering thought." That raised more questions. More interrogating, what did he mean by that? Wouldn't she also have died plenty of years ago? Your eyes watched the table in front of you as you scanned your mind for plenty of reasons and questions.

"is...is she like the two that were trapped with me?" Eventually, you spoke again, hands clasped together and nerves boiling over.

Words merged together as the both of you spoke about everything and nothing. So, vampires were real. Technically...what an odd time for you to be un-living in. At least you would not be a victim. Dead for almost a century, and not the prettiest ghost here. The more modern deaths were certainly beautiful, knowing it, and flaunting it so happily. Just to murder...

Murder.

The word rang through your head as James talked about your death. About why he used your rotting body. About why he had that heater between those intimate thighs of yours always. He needed a body to experiment with. One he couldn't just dare put more slashes on. An open neck and open chest was good enough. You were bewildered. Dumbfounded and confused as he explained his reasoning. Simply because he could. He murdered and used bodies simply because he could. How deranged.

Oh. There was that pit again. Damnit. Whatever it is, you needed to be rid of it. Rubbing the part of your body where your womb was, you stared at the undrunk whiskey hard. Furrowed eyebrows and unmoving eyes. The murderer took notice and leaned towards you. "Are you feeling okay my dear?" His dead breath so close to you. Why, oh why was this pit in your womb so obvious to you? He killed you! Obviously, no feelings should be felt for him apart from hatred. Was it hatred in your womb? No. James probably knew what you were feeling and wanted to tease you with it.

Tease you? But of course. Such an untouched woman was easy to please and make fun of. A simple kiss on your cheek and a hand lingering on your jaw. The pit, it felt like it had just spilled. Like it had spilt and flowed from your womb to the chair you were sat on. Even more embarrassing than being in your nightgown only. You wouldn't mention it. You couldn't. You weren't shameless, and he was a gentleman. Still a gentleman even though his words said otherwise.

It was only when you stared blankly up at the ceiling and James had left the room that you realised what happened. Left on the bed, with the remembrance of those scratchy, desperately uncomfortable bed sheets. But this time you felt frozen, and...naked. Every single little fibre of the duvet on your skin, and feeling it move on top of you when you adjusted yourself. Still as uncomfortable as it was those years ago. Your feet met the ground as you sat up, and picked up the nightgown again. What a thing to die in... something meant for only you. Now everyone you would pass would see it, and judge you harshly.

It was put back on as soon as you stood. The pit in your womb just felt better once James finished. Like you just needed him to, make you feel warm despite the both of you being cold always. He walked in and was holding up some clothes. "My dear I have brought you a dress. You do not need to wear that anymore." The folded fabric was spread out on the bed, and it was a simple black one, floor length and full sleeves down to the wrist. Such a gorgeous dress, unsure of wether or not it would even fit you.

After just looking at James with worry in your eyes, he sighed softly and took your nightgown off you again, thumbs grazing the wound under your breasts. It was grotesque, but god it was such a sweet feeling on his fingers. Feeling his work, and admiring it. Romantic touches, with nothing but admiration for his murder behind it. It was like he was obsessed with it, unable to hide how much he loved his kill. He gave the same touches to your neck. Hearing the small whimpers leaving you as his fingers traced the edge of your neck. The way you were touched wasn't like anything before. Intimate and dangerous parts of you explored more than you were explored a few minutes ago. "So sweet.." He sighed quietly, before slipping the dress on you.

A perfect fit, and James admired it. He looked at you like you were...well like you were The Countess. Being stared at nicely was weird, but something you figured you had to get used to. He had claimed you, not like you knew that though. Such a beautiful victim, at the time unclaimable. Now as claimable as any other person in the god-forsaken hotel you were stuck in.

"you will be a beautiful accessory to murder my darling."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @slvt4jamesmarch @slutforgarlogan @fear-is-truth / @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @nahoyasboyfriend @carniv0reev @yandereunsolved / @briaroftheroses @doll3tt33

[necros-writing-stuff]

Eden's EOCK is too huge and monstrous to pc to handle and having seggs only cause pain but no pleasure so pc doesn't want to have any intercourse but shows their love in platonic ways instead. Would Eden stifle their instinct or still force to having seggs even pc really dislike that painful things(I know pc can satisfy Eden with oral, hands, feet etc but Eden wants babies anyways🥴)

SORRY NECRO but I can't stop thinking Eden with monster pp and it makes me insane 🥴🥴🥴 I LOVE YOU AND YOUR WRITINGS<3

Your horniness for Eden is understood and encouraged, never be afraid to come to my inbox with it.

I cannot hammer home enough how little your consent means to Eden. I mean, it gives him an ego boost and confirmation of the relationship when you agree to the sex - but at no point will it stop him from just taking what he wants anyway unless there's something like a medical reason.

If you ask Eden to use lube to help I do think he would do it though. When he remembers. If you're out of the cabin then he'll likely shove it in regardless.

As much as I adore my hunter, I have to be for real and say I don't think he does much foreplay. The patience for it isn't there, nor is the consideration for your comfort. This is one of the reasons that, even though all of the characters have no set gender, I have a hard time seeing Eden as female. The dynamic between Eden and PC is incredibly old school, misogynistic beaten trad wife and the insecure, toxically masculine husband coded.

Eden loves you. Eden wants to keep you safe. But Eden's warped view of himself as a saviour protecting you from the harms of life skews his ability to recognise the harm he causes. He's contradictory, which makes him human.

[boywifesammy]

spn fic rect fest - 9

AUGUST 31 - all time favourites

we’re here, the big fest finale !! i tried to keep this list short but alas it got out of hand... pls go read them because they’re all wonderful and be sure to give the authors your thanks and kind words :) as before, i've tagged authors that have their tumblr public on their ao3. if you'd like me to remove the @, just lmk. @spnficrecfest for more info on the event.

dead dove & sensitive topics under the cut. TWs are given where necessary.

Touch Me Like a Razor Blade by ADeedWithoutaName (@a-deed-without-a-name) Sam/Dean, 18k, E [underage]

"For as long as he can remember, sins have caused Dean physical pain." in my mind this fic is in the golden hall of wincest fame. the idea of materializing dean's guilt is SO CRAZY and ingenious given he is THEE guilt character. especially in a story about the taboo of incest. dean's internal struggle in most wincest fics is already so delicious and painful but to make it a physical sensation that he is constantly aware of puts this perfect bow on him as a character. also because sam DOESN'T KNOW until so late into the story. are you kidding. also an actually GOOD example of bdsm!! a masterpiece, go read it and show the author allll the love!!

The Road Rhythm Outro by brokenlittleboy Sam/Dean, 50k, E [violence]

"A routine hunt goes horribly wrong. A curtain fic dealing with permanent injury, angst, and various types of trauma, and fluffy domesticity." this is my favourite permanent injury fic! the author clearly researched a lot to make it accurate and that makes it hit so much harder. there's not only the initial grief and pain, but also the recovery journey, and a thorough exploration of sam's struggle after his injury and how it effects his relationship with dean.

The voicemail by tattooalecki Sam/Dean, 3k, E [noncon]

Sam masturbates to the infamous S5 voicemail. #1 for hottest samdean smut fic. PLUS a voicemail fix-it! this particular niche of humiliation kink is my fav and i haven't found any other piece of writing that does it quite so well. it's hot and captivating while still feeling in-character. if this sounds like your thing as well then definitely check this out because it's insanely good!

snuff by chinablue (@mpregjohnwinchester) Dean/John, Sam/Dean, 5k, E [underage]

"There's nothing good on TV, and Sam's contemplating killing his father again." i had to control myself from putting all of china's fics on this list. she is SUCH an amazing writer and the way she writes johndean is my absolute favourite in the fandom. this fic manages such a delicious balance between hot, violent, possessive and horrific. i don't know how she does it! @-@

Tethered to You by lily rose/annabeth Sam/Dean, 32k, E [TW necro, violence, major char death, noncon]

"Sam wants Dean, but he'd like him even better dead." yes, this is necrophilia smut. BUT- it's also a character study and an insanely interesting look into the psychology of paraphilias. i firmly believe sam would be into something weird given the way he grew up, and the author really displays that in an accurate way. 10/10 most tasteful necrophilia i have ever consumed.

the one percent by deadlybride (@zmediaoutlet) Sam/Dean, 9k, E

Dean finds out that Sam's too big for most condoms. my fav take on the bigdick!Sam fanon. there is something soo hot about a guy being too big to be contained... it rolls perfectly into sam's gentle giant thing where he's sooo big and powerful yet quiet and unassuming. also sizequeen!Dean. whats not to love.

Brittle by thecapn Sam/Dean, Sam/Jess, 30k, E [TW ED]

"Sam Winchester has an eating disorder." so- i couldn't reread this fic when i was putting together this list. not because it's bad but because it is so beautifully written, raw and accurate that i couldn't read it again because it got me worked up. it's really that good. the ending manages to be positive without feeling preachy, and at the same time has that lingering pain of how difficult recovery is. massive tw for eds obviously, but if you can stomach the content then this is a must-read fic.

I have to live here by Goshen/applecrumbledore (@goshen-applecrumbledore) Sam/Dean, 30k, E

An angel erases Dean's memories, but only the ones about his relationship with Sam. silly amnesia fic from the one and only applecrumbledore. there's some angst as well where we get to see sam's grief over losing his relationship with dean and dean working through all the roadblocks they had to overcome to finally get together. as always the characterization is perfect and the writing is so engaging and witty.

Lima Syndrome by guestwho (@guestwho) Sam/Dean, 20k, E

Sam has extensive facial scarring from the fire. John locks him away, and Dean is as usual, not normal about him. holy SHIT i cannot rave enough about this story. it's one of those fics where you read it and wish there was more or an actual book about it because the author's writing is so compelling. it's an interesting take on the whole sam/dean codependency thing with an angle that's less supernatural focused. also freak!sam in this is sooo captivating and the smut gave me shivers, just go read it, i promise you won't be disappointed!!

hello by allwellandgood Sam/Dean, 4k, T [major chara death]

Dean's dead but his ghost lingers. Sam struggles to reach out to him. this is such a depressing but hopeful fic. it broke my heart the first time i read it, especially considering how dean dies in the finale. in my mind if dean ever died he would refuse to pass on and stay with sam just like in this fic.

With A Bit Of Spit And Luck by elsi/Prince_of_Elsinore (@prince-of-elsinore) Sam/Dean, 7k, E [underage]

"Teenage boys cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter with nothing but each other and an ancient porno on VHS to keep them warm." weecest smut extravaganza. i loveeee the trope of dean being sam's sexual awakening. the idea of them in a little cabin together while dean shows sam scratchy low quality porn is amazing and the execution of it in this fic is perfect.

lay my bones beside his bones by adastreia Sam/Dean, John/Dean, 6k, E [TW CSA]

Dean has a rape fantasy. Sam indulges him, and things come to light. a perfect mixture of smut and hurt/comfort. i also love how sam & dean's hell trauma is integrated into the johndean CSA. the scene where dean says 'dad'- i genuinely felt my stomach drop. haven't had a reaction like that from fanfic in a LONG time !! very well-written.

[tennco]

Yukari Yakumo and music

i'm not one to think much about yukari tbh, but something that always stood out for me was her music themes. far from being my favorites but they do a great job at communicating what her character is, or at least how she appears to anyone else who meets her.

they all have this imposing and oppressive air about them, fitting for miss sage of gensokyo, one of the most powerful youkai to exist, whose mere presence strikes fear into those of lesser will. the way i see it, in a way she kinda is the embodiment of fear, the fear of youkai, of the night, of the unknown. Night Falls ~ Evening Star i think is the best at conveying this feeling, most of the song using dissonance to that end, specially with all the piano hits. it's disorienting, it's tense. but then you get to the chorus and it's a bit of a different story, a lot more majestic, overwhelming almost, like we know she's the kind to use underhanded methods to get what she wants but she can actually back it up should it reach that point. it's a battle you can't win, or at least one you can't win in a meaningful way. there's no point in opposing her. i don't have much to say about the arrangement in AoCF, it's the same turned up to 11. and it goes hard.

her original theme Necrofantasia goes full force into that latter feeling. it's just completely overbearing, suffocating, like you don't even have time to process the threat in front of you, to comprehend what's going on. i think a lot of that comes from the bass because god fucking knows what that bass is doing. but also more obviously with the synth playing the melody which, at times almost drowns out the rest of the song entirely. the version from Magical Astronomy is the one i prefer most of the time, and i think it's because its new parts emphasize yet another aspect of the song: it's almost like she's showing off at times. showing off not only what she can do but also what she already did: creating the world of gensokyo, creating a paradise for youkai, for everything and everyone who has been forgotten. they say someone truly dies only once they're forgotten so, what if we were to prevent that? what if we made a world where beings and concepts can be remembered and thus, live on forever? maybe that's what a necrofantasia is.

Yorimashi Between Dreams and Reality ~ Necro-fantasia deserves a mention too, it's probably the less talked about of yukari's themes. technically an arrangement of Necrofantasia, but i think it's just a perfect blend of that and Evening Star. you have the mystery, the tension, the overwhelming show of power. and yet in contrast to the original, when the chorus hits it's under a more sinister light. i think by this point we already well know how yukari acts and what she's about, so she has nothing to hide now, there's no reason to conceal anything. or is there? something that stands out to me is how desperate it sounds too, like now it's yukari who's losing the fight.... but then it ends on a, somewhat distorted major chord, a picardy third. it's like she's trying to make you think she's at a disadvantage, only to come out on top at the end... which is, exactly what happens in AoCF as a matter of fact. and what has happened in other occasions as well.

anyways that was a long post. i talked about yukari's themes in the past but never elaborated on it so, here ya go! here's all i can think of for now.

[vaguely-concerned]

-another layer of 'ow ah ouch' to everything pyrrha says about lyctorhood in nona the ninth is that she and g1deon may very well have been the first necro-cav duo to have done it fully mutually consensually, eyes open. it's heavily implied mercy and augustine had their hands forced by cristabel and alfred and wouldn't have done it otherwise ("I have built a myriad on the idea that I could have talked him out of it, given five minutes"), and they're the first and second saints... g1deon's the third. he and pyrrha presumably saw what it did to mercy and augustine, and they still decided to go through with it.

I WILL REMEMBER THE FIRST TIME YOU KISSED ME—YOU APOLOGISED—YOU SAID, I AM SORRY, DESTROY ME AS I AM, BUT I WANT TO KISS YOU BEFORE I AM KILLED, AND I SAID TO YOU WHY, AND YOU SAID, BECAUSE I HAVE ONLY ONCE MET SOMEONE SO UTTERLY WILLING TO BURN FOR WHAT THEY BELIEVED IN, AND I LOVED HIM ON SIGHT, AND THE FIRST TIME I DIED I ASKED OF HIM WHAT I NOW ASK OF YOU

imagine the extra weight over the years in knowing you chose this. at least augustine can cling to that desperate fantasy world where he did stop alfred in time, but pyrrha and g1deon thought they knew exactly what they were doing. they thought it was love. john let them think that was love.

-...do you think mercymorn and augustine begged john for the same thing harrow did, after? Please, undo what I've done, Lord. I will never ask anything of you ever again. (Also one of my all time favorite Harrow moments where she gets to ask the question they aren't allowed to for ten thousand years: How dare you ask me to live with it?) did he comfort them? tell them he's so incredibly sorry, but he needs them?

at least pyrrha’s understanding of how the process works does corroborate his claim that he can’t extract a cavalier’s soul from their necromancer's after the lyctorhood is complete without destroying both souls, which I guess makes for the one thing he isn’t totally lying about lol. though while referencing their own situation paul tells ianthe there's still hope for her and naberius, a duo where the soul absorption did seem to complete, which suggests another layer here john might not know about (out of lack of interest?) or doesn't want anyone else to find out about.

actually let's reexamine some things from the Gideon the Ninth epilogue now in light of Nona I'm on a roll here:

-[God] said, "I know you became a Lyctor under duress."

"Some may call it duress," said Harrow.

"You aren't the first," said the Emperor.

screaming. howling. clawing at him like a wild animal. the two people who have loved you the most, and you stood by and watched as this happened to them, as you engineered it to happen to them, you've seen up close what it did to them, and now you're repeating the process with new children a myriad later without a blush. you suck so bad john I have no words fhksajfhsa.

-"I have three teachers for you. And a whole universe for you to hold on to, for just a little while longer."

a) oh yeah just wait for those three teachers they're a real barrel of laughs they probably won't even try to repeatedly murder you or anything lmao and b) what's that supposed to mean john. 'for just a little while longer'. why does it only have to be a little while longer. as far as I can tell you're no closer to the fullness of your revenge than ever. does it have anything to do with 'good morning, annabel' and 'it gets dirty, you clean it again'?

So, the universe was ending. Good. At least if she failed here, she would no longer have to be beholden to anybody.

could this also be some kind of foreshadowing? from the dialogue on page here harrow's conclusion that the universe is, for sure, ending is not necessarily a natural conclusion (john only speaks of the empire slowly dying) so like... does pre-lobotomy harrow know something we don't? or is it just that she's the saddest person anyone's ever seen pre-nona seeing gideon? (most heartbreaking shade of drift compatability discovered :') )

-He said presently, "Most of my Lyctors have been destroyed by a war I thought best to fight slowly, through attrition. I have lost my Hands -- not just to death. The loneliness of deep space takes its toll on anyone, and the necrosaints have all put up with it for longer than anybody should ever be asked to bear anything. That's why I wanted only those who had discovered the cost, and were willing to pay it in the full knowledge of what it would entail."

so... in the same way g1deon and pyrrha decided to pay that price willingly, then. I am 100% calling bullshit on him here, though, because if any of that had been his real intentions he would have taken at least a modicum of time and energy to write ANYTHING to that effect in the invitations haha. but I think he does recognize in some way that mercy and augustine are burning out under the ten thousand years he's asked of them, like cytherea just did, and maybe mistakenly thinks g1deon is handling it better, because his and pyrrha's decision seemed more informed/less coerced? loveday always knew it was her life or cytherea's, after all, that wasn't ever a real choice either. huh.

-god, harrow literally states all her (frankly very modest and doable) goals and needs to him -- to return to the ninth at least once, to find her cavalier's body, and to figure out what happened to the other survivors of canaan house -- and once she is incapable of remembering them........ he does fucking NOTHING to remind her or help her follow up on any of them fhsdkajfhasdkj I am losing it! at least there is the delicious irony that he could have saved himself a massive headache if he had helped her with any of these, so his own fecklessness and narcissism is its own punishment in this case I suppose lmao

-another observation: harrow is not as deferential or worshipful towards God in this epilogue as she will be in HtN or beyond. she's angry with him! she's kind of sharp and a bit rude, even! she seems more to feel begrudgingly beholden to him because fair enough he is god I guess than to emotionally buy into it as sacred service. I wonder how she'll think of him after nona the ninth, now that she knows him so much better and has more of herself too -- ironically my sense from their last scene in nona the ninth is that her worship of him seems to have all but disappeared, but she loves him more, despite uh the everything of him, in all his awfulness. not in that she doesn't recognize him for what he is or that she wants his approval anymore, she's grown so far past him already, but I do think there's still love there. 'I still love you' is the real power he has, I guess

[starberry-cupcake]

I've been reading, but didn't have time to sit down and do this, so you're getting a bit of a mess in this one, sorry about that!

I want to clarify, before starting, that if I ask questions to the void in these posts, or if I wonder very loudly about something, I'm not really looking for answers immediately nor am I doubting that things will be explained later, I promise I trust the process. If something's going to be explained, somewhere in the books, I'll get there eventually, I promise I will. You have probably noticed by now but, if you give me a hint, I'm gonna grab onto it for dear life, so better not give me anything at all. Just leave me here to die, I beg you.

previously, in harrowberry the ninth:

this happened

currently, chapters 17-19:

I'm gonna start by the end, actually

which maybe is fitting for this book

but I'll start by the end because I have a new theory and I feel this one in my bones

(pun intended)

I might be totally off but I'm gonna say it anyway because I'm excited about this one

so much so that you'll get no memes while I explain it

it's about G and P

yes, I know, I'm fixated with that, but hear me out

I think Lyctortus isn't actually called Ortus

I think his name is Gideon

let me explain

at the end of chapter 19 (I'll get there, but I need this off my chest, I really do) harrow asks mercygirl why ortus the first wants her dead

to which mercygirl distractedly answers "who?"

that's the last thing I read so far, but it got my wheels turning so fast I came running to write it down

I thought "wait, what if, just like ortus is replacing gideon in the gideon-less re-telling, the name is also a replacement?"

so I went to the character list and lyctortus's cavalier was called pyrrha

so what if they're G and P

Gideon and Pyrrha the Second

and what if the Gideon in the paper was this guy

so this is not a case of Ortus 1 and 2 but of Gideon 1 and 2

not!dulcinea told our gideon "you're very brave—a bit like another Gideon I used to know. But you're prettier in the eyes"

which is, all things considered, actually funny, because it's a reversal of what mercygirl was saying, that yandere twin and harrow aren't as pretty as their predecessors

I'm gonna risk looking like a fool later and calling this now because I really feel this one

again, let me clarify, I'm not asking you to tell me whether I'm right or wrong or anything at all, I'm just placing my bets with myself

and I know starting by the end isn't really the best way to go about a recap, but I think I'm on to something

MOVING BACK, to chapter 17

harrow starts looking into mercygirl for her new and probably not improved diary, because she knows less things now

augustine the saint of annoyance tells harrow that mercygirl and him are the oldest lyctors in the band and that it took generations for these space planet destroyers to assemble

emperor john silver tells harrow that his stupid nicknames that don't fit were meant to represent the cavaliers and not the necros

of course augustine's brother was patient, he had to put up with augustine

mercygirl is also a body expert

an anatomist, if you will

which will come in handy later/earlier (later in the reading order, earlier in the timeline order)

augustine says that he didn't bother learning that because the only use for it would be to kill lyctors

tbh it'd come in handy right now that I want to kill him, but I digress

here, harrow again mentions that ortus the first (also known as lyctortus, also known as allegedly gideon the first, also known as I'm super super sure of this you guys) wants her dead

CHAPTER 18

we're back on canaan house in the gideon-less version

these are the chapters I'm having the most fun with, which wasn't what I expected

I don't know why, I really like this whole re-written mystery thing

the slasher film vibes have doubled this time

I keep drawing parallels and enjoying my time with these old and new friends

and, talking about old and new friends, judith is dead

remember judith? remember how she died?

it wasn't like this

in this gideon-less version, instead of becoming besties with the sixth, harrow and ortus have become besties with the fifth

because 1) the fifth didn't die and 2) the fifth is in a polycule with ortus

with gideon there, they befriended the sixth because gideon saw camilla fight 5 seconds and was like "she's friend shaped :)"

so, the fifth and the ninth are taking care of judith's corpse

she was shot repeatedly with a carbine rifle

harrow says "it would have been like being set upon by a ghost out of time"

gonna put that in the 3d model

martita is outside and she's the only pseudo witness to this situation

the gideon-less version of the deaths so far is being handled like this

martita says to harrowbean "why am I here?"

she explains that they were doing the two door test thingy and, while she was in the other room, judith was shot

now, here's the thing

I thought the Sleeper that had been mentioned was the construct thing but no, it's not

it's a new thing

I'm picturing sorta this

it very well could be a person though

it's person shaped

huh

it's in a coffin where it sleeps unless it's woken up, but they don't know how it wakes up, because martita went to town kicking and punching the coffin after judith was obliterated and nothing happened

and what keeps it contained, snow white style, isn't plex glass, plex or glass

ortus proceeds to say a eulogy

martita says "Is this really how it happens?" like we've been hearing all this time

harrowbean tries to make her feel better by telling her that, at least judith died quickly

mmm...about that

martita says "No. That's not...Don't know why I thought...No."

martita doesn't know judith died slowly and painfully and wrong about everything btw, she died first, it memory serves

but still, savage

harrow regrets not telling ortus to take the pledge of silence and says "but only a very obedient idiot of a cavalier would have stuck to that"

she's your obedient idiot, though, harrow

so, the rundown is this:

the sleeper can move

the sleeper can pass necromantic wards

the sleeper shouldn't be waken

people don't know what wakes it

it has a rifle

the sleeper is lying on top of sword that's a two-hander

me, having breakfast while reading this

I didn't mention this but

harrow and abby say that judith was killed by a deadly shot and then was subsequently used for target practice and left like a colander without any reason for it

judith disrespected camilla, so

that's what you get, bitch

CHAPTER 19

we travel in time, but in the timeline of the emperor's bolthole

because WHY NOT, AT THIS POINT

we're keeping track anyway *picks back up the timeline I keep discarding and re-using*

this one is 10 months before the emperor johnny boy is ended, so this is before what we've been reading

we are told the following essential info:

harrow has written a letter for yandere twin in case of harrow's death that says: "Get what joy you can from my corpse, you devious bitch"

filed under potential resignation letter drafts

apparently a lyctor can live without food but not without water

so harrowcita is getting herself a sopita

and then lyctortus also known as I'm sure he's gideon the first stabs her

this tiny baby kitten with her sopita

man has no heart

no decency

no decorum

not his real name, according to me

mercygirl helps harrow with a lot of skill (those anatomy skills we talked about) but not much empathy

she tells alleged gideon who goes by ortus, when he says "I do things face-to-face" that "that is what got you into trouble nineteen years ago"

HELLO TIMELINE

nineteen years ago takes us back to the whole leader of the BOE going missing and gideon's mom drifting into space and the person sent with the eggs and all that

well, the eggs thing isn't directly related yet but I'm relating it

especially since there were lies involved and somebody sent to placate another somebody

DUDE CAN YOU IMAGINE

IF HE WAS INVOLVED WITH GIDEON'S MOM IN SOME WAY

AND OUR GIDEON IS NAMED AFTER THIS GIDEON????

LIKE ON PURPOSE????

HELLO?????????

AGAIN, NOBODY TELL ME, I'M ASKING AT THE VOID

YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE IMPULSE OF TELLING ME BUT DON'T DO IT

I'm making up telenovela theories about how this gideon could be involved into our gideon's mom business and our gideon being named after him

and gideon's superpowers of being hercules having something to do with all this

I need to stop before I say too much and then feel embarrassed at my theories

ALSO

gideon ortus wants harrow's sword

harrowbean doesn't want to give it to him

it is at this point when mercygirl says "who?" at harrow's question about "ortus", so we end how we begun, because today it's that kind of day

also, another day without her coming home

I may be late but boy do I have theories. And yeah, nobody tell me any spoilers, please. Let me make a fool of myself.

[winters-hysteria]

nsfw aged up f. hargreeves nsfw alphabet

you've been warned, minors din

A= Aftercare (what they're like after the act)

i feel like five would seem like he's trying not to care but seeing you laying there all pretty after he's ruined you turns on his absolute *need* to make sure you're okay

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

his favorite part of himself is his hands. they're strong and really nice looking, and he can use them to grab you/push you around roughly and/or gently pin your wrists down 

fav part of you is your ass. there was this one scene (can't remember the episode) but he stared at somebody walking out the door with a really weird smile and his eyes popping out and idk i feel like he'd do the same thing to you walking out a door, just stare and then klaus walks over like "eheheheh whatcha lookin' at buddy buddy boy bro brother homie" and he's just like "oh nothing nothing that interests ur gay ass anyways"

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

he'd love to finish inside you, but even if you don't let/want him to (which he will totally respect) he likes to cum in your mouth or your breasts, even if you are a part of the itty bitty titty community

tbh i think he'd like that even more bc (he has a size kink i'll get into that next )

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

he has a SIZE KINK. a really really nearly insatiable size kink. 

i believe he'd like it if his S/O was really small / petite cause it makes him look SO MUCH BIGGER than you and goddammit if he doesn't get even hornier when you're on your knees for him and he looks down to see ur pretty lil hand wrapped around his cock

E= Experience (do they know what they're doing)

seeing as i write for five in his 20s, i think he might know sort of what he's doing but he's gonna need a lot of guidance. he also likes to play dumb when it comes to touching you cause he likes seeing you touch yourself and also it helps a lot with him learning what and where to touch

F= Favorite position

uhhhh this mfer's favorite position is 100% cowgirrrrrl

he loves seeing you on top of him I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH

either that or having you below him is just *AAAAAAA*

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

he can be really really serious, but this man does crack jokes in the bedroom from time to time.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

he keeps himself  pretty nicely groomed, cause yk carpet matches the drapes

and also i hc that he just feels gross if he doesn't

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

god oh god oh god

the can be *SO* rough, but during nights when he has you all to himself, it's slow, sensual,,,, mmmmmmm yummy

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

he does this whenever you're not around, but his right hand will never ever evah substitute for the feeling of your warmth clenching around him.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

bondage, daddy, sadomasochistic power top, dom/sub vibes, possibly a little bit of wax play, definite knife play, coffee kink, mommy kink mommy kink mommy KINK, power play, size kink, choking kink, degradation/praise, roleplay

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

literally anywhere but prefers his bed or yours so he can tie you up

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

you could probably wave to him and he'd be half hard, like baby you don't need to do anything just move two steps to the left and ur gonna get your pussy pounded

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won't do)

he absolutely will not get you pregnant, bitch. you've got a world to save, he doesn't have time to be a dad.

scat, piss, vomit, necro, that type of stuff

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

fuc-king hell he loves giving, but won't ever say no to a good ol' bj

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

he can last a l o n g time. 

he also won't change his pace unless you beg for it

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

he likes quickies, but really prefers to go nice and soft and slow with you

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

he's open to it, but ya know he doesn't want to hurt you.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

im saying about ten or so and then he gets tired

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers) 

has a whole ass collection of bad dragon products to use on you

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

oh lord this man will tease you until you are barely conscious.. 

"you like that little slut?"

the HEAVY breathing *UH*

when you do dominate him, he loves to be teased and will literally scream your name when you finally let him cum.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

definite heavy panting, but since he doesn't really have a filter he moans a lot too

he will degrade/praise tf outta you baby

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

okay but he wants you to top him.

he gets tired of topping sometimes and just wants to let you take over.

so do it, baby. 

do it.

X= X-ray (what's down below in dem pants)

i'm thinking he's a little above average, 7 inches or so

thick, veiny, and a pretty pink head :>

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

he is ALWAYS horny and always looking for some way to grind against you or just fuck the shit outta you

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

so he falls asleep about an hour after because that's when his body just starts to shut down, but he doesn't realise that so sometimes he'll be standing upright doing something and then all the sudden you have to catch him bc he just fell asleep standing

[queeoretician]

Just finished re-listening to Nona, and I have to know - what the ever-loving fuck did Jod want with G—'s arm? My first thought was that it had something to do with the dead man's switch for the suitcase nuke, but he mentions that he still has plans for it, in his narration to Alecto/Harrow after the bombs have gone off, so there's something else there. I feel like it's tied in with something about G1deon and Pyrrha being different from the other lyctor/cavalier pairs we see.

Speaking of which, there are a good few of those differences - here are the ones that come to mind:

G1deon's thanergy-void ability that lets him break Harrow's bone wards. I don't think this is it - to me it feels like it's more in the vein of Mercymorn's one-touch supernatural anatomy abilities, within the "normal" range of freaky abilities that lyctors have.

G1deon being physically imposing, unlike any(?) other necromancer we come across. I feel like there are some connections here that are eluding me right now.

The big one, Pyrrha's individuality surviving lysis. This by itself wouldn't make sense to me, but maybe it ties in with G1deon's buffness, that somehow the physical basis for their ascension was atypical?

On that last note, something else that stood out to me through Nona is that Pyrrha and G1deon's necro/cav relationship dynamic seems very different from the others we see (not just among Jod's original disciples but also with the contemporary pairs). At one point Pyrrha mentions filtering G1deon's brain fluid while working on the transference/winnowing trial, with the only other subject of that test being Cristabel rather than one of the other necromancers. In another passage Pyrrha talks about working on the Tomb's wards with Cassiopeia and Mercymorn - her plus two necromancers.

This had me wondering if Pyrrha was also a necromancer originally, somehow - but Palamedes's explanation to Nona of why she isn't affected by the blue madness undermines that hypothesis. But that aside, Pyrrha was definitely involved in what I would think of as "necromancer stuff" in a way we don't see from anyone else except Camilla (because the Sixth House are nerds). But maybe my expectations are off base because we're introduced to the necro/cav relationship through the eyes of Gideon, who is aggressively disinterested in necromancy...

Speaking of nerd shit, what kind of people were Jod's crew before the bombs and the Resurrection? He refers to them at one point as "a cop and six different kinds of nerd" and "two scientists and an engineer and a nun and a lawyer and a banker and a cop and an artist," referring to A—, M—, G—, the nun (Cristabel), C—, A—'s brother (Alfred), P—, and N— (he doesn't seem to have included himself in that tally). The narration clearly references all of their roles individually except G—'s, so I would guess he was the engineer, with the scientists being M— (medical) and A— ("the glycerol-6 genius"). But as best I can recall we don't really hear anything about G—'s role apart from being Jod's most steadfast supporter and carrying the suitcase nuke - it comes across as though Jod took him rather for granted. I wonder if Pyrrha remembers this and holds it against Jod along with all his post-Resurrection shit? I'd love to learn more about this in Alecto - I wanna know everything about our problematic fave ex-cop ex-spook genderfuck parent figure and her grief and her love...

But back to my earlier line of thinking, after the Resurrection Jod roped his disciples into a war of vengeance against the descendants of the generation ship, and defense against the Resurrection Beasts, and at a very tentative guess it seems like only Pyrrha of the original eight would have been predisposed towards that kind of combative life (jokes about academia aside). But at the same time she seems to have stepped into a research-y role that we don't see from any of the other original cavaliers (with the caveat that our info is very limited and Alecto could upend this entirely).

All this is to say, I Have Questions about Pyrrha and G1deon and who they were pre-Resurrection, but right now I don't have any coherent theory beyond "I think there's something going on here."