#honour thy blood

[quotent-potables]

"I'm fighting for those that can't fight for themselves as I always have" he said nodding towards his injured arm. "And I'm watching your back as if it was my own" he added replaying Arcturus' own words back to him. Arcturus shook his head. "You don't have to do this" he said "this is a family duel and you're committing social and political suicide by siding with us" he finished. "Of course I have to do it" Charlus remarked "we always went into battle together why should we break tradition now?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

— Honour Thy Blood, a Harry Potter fanfiction by TheBlack'sResurgence.

Read it on Fanfiction.net

[concreteangel92]

Thou Shalt Not Kill - Chapter 3

AU Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Chapter Index Here

Summary: Reader is a detective and is assigned to a murder case which she soon connects with previous killings and figures out the religious affiliation, proving there is a new serial killer within the city. Reader soon becomes obsessed with the killers mind and methods and won’t rest until she figures out who the killer is. All while she gets used to working with her new partner on the case, detective Noah Davis.

WARNINGS: descriptive writings of murder/killings, blood, gore, talks of death of loved ones, drinking.

Now I don’t know much about the death of Noah’s father in real life but I have used it and embellished it for this story, this is not to cause offence at all, it works with the story I’m writing and I only know the bare minimum about the real life event as tbh I didn’t look in much detail as that’s personal to Noah but please bare that in mind. What I’ve wrote about is FICTION based loosely off real events!!

So I know I only put chapter 2 up yesterday but I just couldn’t help myself today haha I just couldn’t stop writing! I hope you all enjoy!!

Tags: @Ima1986 @hayleylatour @reyadawn @thatchickwiththecamera @thefallennightmare @calleyx13 @english-fucker @darling-millicent-aubrey @malerieee @ithoughtbynowidfeelbetter @softvgold @lilhobgobbler @glccmreid @badomensls @madomens @loeytuan98 @iluvmewwwww75 @rosebushjhj @livingdeceasedgirl @lilrubles @samanthasgone @blackveilomens @hellayeahsworld @lookwhatitcost @doomhands-jr @nojoyontheburn @poisongirl616 @bakanerd @sacredthefran

MASTERLIST

You took a deep breath before walking into what can only be described as a bloodbath.

Two men had been suspended high with their arms outstretched like they were both on crosses. What was left of their intestines were hanging from a huge slash that had been made into their stomachs and had dropped onto the concrete below. Around the bodies were tea light candles surrounding the room which you imagine had given the room a haunting glow when they were lit and there were loads of photo frames of what appeared to be the same married couple around the deceased.

The smell made you take a step back into Noah’s hard chest. They had obviously been here a couple days before being found.

“You ok detective?”

You nodded and stepped further into the room.

“Yes, sorry the smell took me back a bit”

You walked around the bodies, although decay had started to set in, you could clearly see the resemblance between them.

“They were brothers. So I can only assume the people in the photos are their parents?”

“Honour thy father and thy mother”

You nodded at Noah who was studying the photos. You came and stood next to him.

“If this wasn’t so sick, I’d actually be impressed”

Noah looked up at you “detective?”

“The attention to detail is remarkable. Like nothing I’ve ever seen before”

You gestured for one of the officers to come over.

“Have forensics in straight away, we need to find out who they were and why they were chosen. I want updates immediately”

••••••••

Sipping on god knows what number coffee you were drinking today, you started looking at the new reports that been given to you and Noah.

James and Michael Riggs. Both 33 years old, had lived a very comfortable life with their wealthy parents Sally and Richard Riggs who had a shared net worth of 460 million.

Sally and Richard were both deceased. Believed to have been a boating accident 2 years ago, the police were involved at first to help find their bodies but once they and the remains of the boat had been found, no further investigation was needed. The autopsy reports showed the husband had a high level of alcohol in his system before he took the wheel, no foul play involved. However now you thought otherwise.

“Clearly our killer knew something we didn’t”

Noah was reading over the files.

“Inheritance job?”

“Looks like it, couldn’t wait to inherit their fortune so they took matters into their own hands. How would our killer even know that?”

Noah took a sip of his coffee.

“Oh come on, it doesn’t take a detective to figure that one out. Do some digging and I imagine these boys weren’t exactly crystal clean with their image, probably got cut off to teach them a lesson and they obviously got tired of waiting”

“True. Well they had got away with it until now that’s for sure”

Noah chuckled over his file.

“Easy detective, if I didn’t know better I’d say that you’re saying these guys had what was coming to them”

You slammed your mug down and met his amused gaze.

“Absolutely not! No one deserves this! I’m simply saying that the killer is seeing things we haven’t, look at the ‘thou shalt not bare false witness’ case, we missed the fact that she was lying in her original statement and it cost a man his life!”

You sat back and took a deep breath before getting up to stand in front of your pinboard, Noah’s eyes never leaving you.

“I’m just saying that whoever this killer is, he’s a genius in some ways. He’s an artist, a perfectionist, someone who sees what most don’t”

“He?”

You turned to look at Noah.

“Yes. There is no way a woman would be able to pull this off alone, she would need help and I just have a feeling this is done by one person, a man. An incredibly strong man I might add”

You started pinning up some new photos of the crime scene to the board, your mind going into overdrive as you saw it all laid out before you.

Noah stood up to come look over it as well, a small smile on his face as he looked at you.

“Anything else detective?”

“He was obviously raised in a religious background but has no belief in it.”

“And what makes you say that?”

You gave Noah a small chuckle at the irony.

“I would have thought that was obvious detective Davis, thou shalt not kill and yet here we are”

“I told you that you’re amazing”

Noah smiled down at you and you immediately blushed at the compliment.

“As I said, someone else would have figured it out even if I hadn’t”

You felt the need to take a step back, his broad figure was making you feel incredibly small, not to mention his intense stare. The fact he was drop dead gorgeous also added to your heart rate increasing within your chest. Moving backwards, you downed the rest of your coffee and started packing away your files.

“On that note Davis…”

“Noah”

You smiled as you continued to pack your things away.

“Noah. It’s getting late so let’s call it a day”

••••••

Although you’d told Noah to call it a day, you couldn’t help yourself once you were home. You’d created your own pinboard in your home office and couldn’t help but go over everything again. There must be something you’ve missed.

Forensics said that no other DNA had been found at the scenes, nothing to give away the identity of the killer, but you knew there must be something, not many people on this planet could get away with this many crimes without leaving behind something.

This guy was a criminal mastermind, his attention to detail was almost impressive, he was an artist that’s for certain, the way he displayed his victims. What a mind he has. One you are determined to get into, you need to find out who he is and why he’s doing this.

A knock at your front door had you startled from your thoughts, glancing at the clock made you realise it was 9.23pm at night. Not often you had visitors at this time, you got up and grabbed your gun that had been discarded on the desk and took the safety off as you walked to the door and opened it.

You let out a breath as you saw Noah standing on the other side with some bags in his hand which he raised up at the sight of your gun in yours.

“Whoa, I come in peace detective”

“What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”

Noah smiled sheepishly while you clicked the safety back on your gun and slipped it into the back of your jeans.

“Sorry I got your address from your file, I figured you’d still be over doing it with work so thought I’d come over. Have you eaten dinner yet?”

You saw he’d opened the bags and you saw a take away Chinese and a bottle of wine.

“Erm…no I haven’t”

“Can I come in then?”

You stepped back from the door and let Noah walk into your apartment, smelling the Chinese as he did and realising how empty your stomach was, a loud growl giving you away.

“Looks like I got here just in time”

You chuckled and lead Noah through to the living room, while you got some glasses and cutlery for your food.

••••••

An hour later, food long eaten and the remains left on the table, you both sat on the sofa with a glass of wine in hand while half a bottle was still waiting to be drank.

“Thank you for this, normally I’d find it very unprofessional but I’ll make an exception this time”

“Can’t mix business with pleasure detective?”

You laughed and sipped your wine, something that you could feel going to your head quickly if you weren’t careful.

“No, I don’t believe in distractions when there is a case to be solved, especially one as big as this”

“Oh no, no, no! No more talks of the case tonight. It’s about time you relaxed”

You rested your head in your hand on the back on the sofa and got more comfortable into the leather, not missing how close you two were sitting.

“Ok, ok! What do you want to talk about then?”

“What made you become a police officer?”

You giggled.

“Isn’t that kinda about work?”

“It’s not about the case”

You hummed in amusement.

“My dad. He was an officer, went all the way up to a Lieutenant, probably would have made captain I imagine….he was killed on duty when I was fourteen”

“I’m sorry”

Noah’s brown eyes bore into yours and you cleared your throat slightly.

“It’s ok. My dad was an amazing man, he inspired me to be who I am today and to work as hard as he did. I just want to make him proud”

“I’m sure he’s extremely proud of you”

You smiled and poured yourself another glass of wine.

“You? What made you come into the force?”

“Similar in a way, I was in a car accident with my dad when I was eleven, I only had minor injuries but my dad….he passed away on the scene. The driver that hit us was never caught. I wanted to come into the force to make sure justice was done correctly, for my dad”

You grabbed Noah’s hand that rested on his lap and moved closer to him.

“I’m so sorry Noah, that sounds awful, I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through”

His hand squeezed yours back, you couldn’t help but take note of the size difference between you both.

“It’s ok, it was nearly 20 years ago, you find ways to cope”

“Well I’m sure your dad would be very proud of you as well”

You suddenly noticed how close your faces had become, your cheeks giving your realisation away. Noah didn’t take his eyes from yours and you felt him brush a strand of your hair behind your ear before he started to move closer. Your heart felt like it was about to come out of your chest.

You could smell the wine on his breath and you closed your eyes.

To suddenly pull away and let out a nervous chuckle.

“I’m sorry Noah. That wine is definitely strong but maybe we should think about calling it a night”

Noah smiled and pulled away fully, his presence almost leaving the space cold in his wake.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

“No! No it was me! I should know better”

You struggled to meet his eyes as you felt your cheeks go even warmer than they were already.

Noah smiled, downed the rest of his wine and put his coat back on while heading for the door.

“I’ll see you in the office tomorrow detective”

“Yes, thank you for dinner and….erm I’ll be sure to get the next one”

Noah gave you a big smile and a wink and with that he started walking down the corridor but not before you heard…

“It’s a date detective”

Chapter 4

[talonabraxas]

Khamael , Archangel of Mars Talon Abraxas

Samael is the Archangel of Mars – prince of the fifth heaven, lord of war and pestilence, and angel of death and destruction. He is the Sathan (Adversary) who visited wrath upon Job, slew the firstborn in Egypt, and (as the Guardian Angel of Easu) wrestled with Jacob. As the Sathan he accuses men of their wrongdoings in the Divine Court. Samael should not be confused with the modern Christian concept of Lucifer or the Devil. Samael is not the source of all evil, nor did he ever wage war upon the Throne of God.

He was, however, cast down to Earth when he refused to bow to Adam as the Image of God. (He had previously sworn to never bow to anything less than God Himself.) Once here, he took Lilith as his wife and has acted as the Divine Accuser, Enforcer and Angel of Death ever since. While he is still very much in the employ of God, he persecutes and seduces mankind when he is ordered to do so.

(Some sources equate Samael with Shemyaza, the leader of the fallen Watchers from the Book of Enoch. This is likely due to both Samael and Shemyaza being punished for disobedience, yet each retaining their positions as celestial angels. However the angels share no other characteristics, and this similarity does not prove the two angels are one and the same.)

The ancient Gnostics elevated him to the position of Demiurgos (the Creator) and interpreted his name to mean “Blind God.” They also called him Ialdabaoth and Saklas. His form was described as a lion-headed serpent. He and his angels (called archons) had created the world as a prison where they could feed upon mankind’s suffering. Later forms of Gnosticism, however, did not equate Ialdabaoth with Samael.

Samael was at one point regarded as the Patron Angel of Rome – and it is likely in this aspect that we see him (as the Dragon with Seven Heads) engaging in single combat against Michael (the Patron Angel of Israel) in the Revelation of St. John.

More recent tradition has given him the name Khamael (Camael, Camuel, etc) – the result of mistranslating a Hebrew Samekh (S) as a Kaph (Kh). In this form he is regarded primarily as the Angel of War and Divine Severity.

Invitation to Samael

I invoke thee, Samael! Holy Archangel of the Martial sphere! I call upon thee within thy realm of Severity and Fear!

Samael, Powerful, Bloody, Sword-bearer, Bold, Untamed, Terrestrial Fire, against whom none can defend himself, thou who destroys the strong and powerful, Lord of fiery heat – and of the planet of blood!

Samael, who art the Adversary, accusing men of their wrongdoing. Fearsome warrior and divine enforcer! You who inflicted Job with sorrow, who slew the firstborn of Egypt, and wrestled with Jacob. It is you who bears the wrath of God unto the Earth! You who overthrow nations and cast kings down from their thrones!

O Samael, we have called upon you [here list the reasons you have called him in the past, if any, and the positive results that came from those workings]. For all of this we thank you!

Come thou forth and partake of these offerings, which we have prepared in thy honour and to the glory of Elohim Gibor. May you find them pleasing and empowering. I ask that you offer your blessings to my home and family, and bear our offerings and prayers of thanksgiving to the Divine Court. We petition thee for strength and protection in all of our undertakings, for defense of our home, and that the light of thy wisdom should guide and keep us at all times. In the name of Elohim Gibor. Amen.

[cannibalmetaphor]

below the cut is a list of cannibal / eating people media I’ve consumed (pun intended) 🥩🔪 to honour my username of course! I’ve also got a running watchlist! send me asks if u have any recs!!!

consumed… 🥩🔪 favs are in bold

nbc hannibal (tv show)

interview with the vampire (tv show)

midnight mass (tv show)

the terror (tv show)

strangers from hell (tv show)

hazbin hotel (tv show) (briefest of mentions)

bones and all (movie)

raw (movie)

the fan (movie)

mother! (movie)

romero’s zombie series (movies)

earthlings (book)

life ceremony (book)

tender is the flesh (book)

a certain hunger (book)

exquisite corpse (book)

a madman’s diary (short story)

on the menu (watchlist)… 🥩🔪

yellowjackets (tv show)

true blood (tv show)

the vampire chronicles (books)

the hannibal series (books)

dracula (book/movies)

to be devoured (book)

mother for dinner (book)

mexican gothic (book)

the centre (book)

off season (book)

eat the rich (graphic novel)

chew (graphic novel)

cannibalism: a perfectly natural history (nonfiction book)

eaters of the dead (nonfiction book)

eat thy neighbour (nonfiction book)

Ginger snaps (movie)

Jennifer’s body (movie)

the hills have eyes (movie)

martin (movie)

trouble every day (movie)

hellbender (movie)

the neon demon (movie)

fresh (movie)

ravenous (movie)

rabid (movie)

the green inferno (movie)

cannibal girls (movie)

Titus (movie)

[caesarinsalata]

So, this is gonna be a bit of a read, but I thought of a little AU idea and I kind of wrote a mock Prologue for it???

(yes I drew little doodles for it. End me lol)

Since it's set back in time when Xerxes was still a bustling empire, I figured Amestris would be in the 15th century of sorts. (Yes I know Amestris wasn't even made yet, but in this Medieval/Xerxes AU it is!)

Cause I looked into it and figured out Xerxes fell around 1480 or so?? So we're going with medieval Amestris.

It starts out with the trio being young (like 6 and 5 years of age) just so you have an idea.

So if y'all wouldn't mind taking a moment to read this little (3000?) Word excerpt I created out of my ass today, that would be awesome! Not promising it's in character or good 🤣👌🏽

TITLE: Achaemenid

PROLOGUE

Xerxes, a stand alone empire betwixt Xing and Amestris. No one dared challenge or overthrow this stretch of desert as a result of its King. He was ruthless and heartless at times. Yet Communicable and selfless at others. Alongside his majesty stilling the hearts of his enemies, no one particularly wanted such a vast wasteland. Nor could they grasp why an empire rose within the center of it.

The air surrounding Xerxes, upon approaching, was different somehow. No one could place it. All who came to the border of Xerxian territory felt as though something had passed through them or vice versa. The conspicuous distinction in the clearity of the desert sky on the other side of this “border” felt unnerving yet reassuring. At least the air looked sand free the closer the caravan trudged to their destination. The only effective means of travel in the desert was by camel back. Any other means was surely suicide.

“Are thee thirsty?”

The traveling company consisted of four camels, but five riders. Three were knights, bequeathed the honour of smuggling the remaining Rockbell family line from further extinction. They had been labeled traitors in their home country, Amestris. Despite being but a lowly old hag and orphaned child, the Queen wanted blood for crimes they had not committed. Someone on the inside, took action and fabricated the plan to get them to safety before the Queen decreed their sentence.

“Drink, before thy self run dry.”

The knight’s clothed arm held steady in front of Pinako Rockbell. She huffed a thank you, her aggravation more towards the scorching heat than him. After taking a drink herself, she gave the rest to Winry Rockbell, who sat in her lap.

“Drink child.”

Winry took the flask in her tiny hands, touching it to her lips and tilted it back. Finishing with a gasp of air, she felt much better. But a refreshing drink of water did nothing to wash away the fact that her parents were dead and are perceived to be traitors. She knew, without a doubt, that they were most certainly not. She wanted to cry again, but recalled granny telling her to conserve her fluids. This journey had been longer than she anticipated.

Finally coming across life of some kind, the caravan ventured across a bridge stretching over an irrigation system that seemed to go for miles in opposite directions. There were people actively digging the system down below. Hearing hooves shuffle across the stone, a handful of them turned to look up.

Winry ducked her head to escape their gaze, but soon was in awe of their odd features. Each and every one of them had gold hair that varied in shades. But what really caught her attention were the array of amber gold eyes staring her way. They varied in intensity as well, but each was piercing in their own right. She couldn't look away. After staring a moment, the people began to wave an arm in greeting in unison, smiles on their faces. They were oddly friendly to strangers. The people down below disappeared over the hump of the bridge once they crossed it and made it back to land, moreso sand.

The knight's accompanying them steered their herd towards a stable like building meant for housing the camels of travelers for their later departure. Except, they weren't leaving anytime soon, Winry thought. The knight's would leave them behind to burn under the hot sun. Although, now that they were in town, the sun didn't seem that bad anymore, but it still weighed on them.

Given Granny’s and Winry's size, the knights had to help them down off of the towering camels safely. Granny didn't like a grown man touching her, but she figured it would be best not to complain. They did all this for them. She took Winry's hand since she didn't feel safe in a foreign land whatsoever.

“Stay by my side, Winry.”

Winry noded and hid behind her as they walked down the center of the shopping district. A perfect place to attract travelers for money. Everyone they passed seemed to be happy to see them or at least friendly. Some would talk to each other and watch them pass. Granny didn't like being on display like this, she squeezed Winry's hand.

It felt like ages, but they finally walked to the center of the empire and scaled the thousands of stairs it took to get to the throne room. Winry wanted to slap this King or whatever. No one would want to come here and climb a mountain of stairs just for a King.

Once they basked in the vast throne room, the knights turned to Granny.

“Ma’am, the lass need not pay the King audience. Only thee must accompany us.” The knight speaking bowed, but Granny didn't like this idea.

“I'm not leaving her alone. She comes with me.”

“Ma’am…the King wouldn't-”

He was cut off by a tall young man, sporting a blonde beard and hair pulled back in a ponytail. “If I may?”

Pinako looked over and up to glare at whoever else wanted to take Winry from her. “Who are you? I'm not leaving her.”

The man put up his hands in surrender. He didn't take being yelled at very well. “I mean no harm, ma’am. Id like to suggest taking your…..granddaughter for the time being. I have two boys of my own she could distract herself with. I'm sure your conversation with the King will be short and sweet.”

“Like hell you think im-”

“Please please. I promise no harm will come to her. The King doesn't like children in his throne room. She would just upset him. Me on the other hand, I love them. She'll be safe with me.” He gave a pause and looked Pinako in the eyes, putting his hands together in a prayer form. “I promise.”

Pinako didn't care how many times he repeated himself, she didn't like this at all. Leaving her only granddaughter with a random stranger did not sit well with her.

The knight cut in this time. “Make haste, the King doesnt take nicely to waiting.”

“Alright alright. Fine. Get off my back will ya!” Pinako grumbled, turning to Winry. She grabbed both of Winry's hands this time and squeezed. “Winry. I don't want to do this, but you're going to be spending some time with that man there. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

Winry nods. “Okay, Granny.” She looked to the blonde man smiling down at her. He wasn't unnerving or creepy. He looked really sweet and nice. He held his hand out and looked from Winry to Pinako.

“I will take good care of her for you. She'll have fun with my boys, I know it. Come come.”

Winry slowly took his hand and let go of Pinako’s. Neither looking like they wanted to go anywhere. Winry watched Granny go through the big double doors and disappear. She'd be lying if she wasn't worried now.

“Oh where are my manners,” the man smiled down at her while walking her down a corridor. “My name is Von Hohenhiem. What’s-”

“Winry.”

Her sudden response gave him pause, but Hohenhiem smiled anyway. “I know this is stressful and scary, but I promise you'll be just fine. There's nothing to fear now. Through here.”

He guided her through an archway, pushing aside fabric in the way to reveal what looked to be a library with an open floor in the center.

“Boys! We have company.”

No response. He smiles nervously down at Winry. Clearing his throat he tried again.

“Edward! Alphonse!”

He was complimented by a grumble and shuffling of books falling over.

“I'm coming! I'm coming! I was just getting to a good part!”

A moment later, a boy appeared from around a bookshelf, not looking happy to be disturbed. He wore robes like his father with red trim. His hair short in the back, but long in the front, most of it covering the sides of his face. He blinked, seeming disturbed by Winry, obviously not expecting someone else. Turning to look back he sighed.

“Come on Al.”

Another boy poked his head out, hiding behind his brother. Much more shy than the first one. He also wore a robe like his brother, but with blue trim.

As they stepped closer to her, Winry got a closer look at their golden features. She could make out more detail compared to the people under the bridge. These two boys sported the most brilliant golden eyes out of all the eyes she's seen on the way in here. She couldn't help but stare.

“Winry. These are my boys. The one with the sour expression is Edward. The one hiding is Alphonse. Now, I have some work to do for the King. Play nice boys. Don't make her cry.” Hohenhiem looks from Al to Ed. “Edward.”

The boy named Edward had obviously taken offense to this.

“Wha- I haven't done anything yet!” Crossing his arms he looks at Winry, but it looks more like a glare.

“Be nice, I'll let you know when your granny is ready for you, Winry dear.”

Winry nods, watching him leave as the fabric falls back in the doorway, she turns back to Ed and Al.

Collectively, they all stare at each other. Winry couldn't help but notice Al still hiding behind his brother.

“Umm….” Winry started, but Ed cut her off.

“Sooo, Winry huh? What do you wanna do then? All we have are books and some toys. Not much though. We're just slaves after all…” Ed huffs, lowering his arms and resting them on his hips.

“Slaves?” Winry looked worried.

“Yeah, slaves.” He tilted it head at her, his golden hair falling in his face a bit. “Don't you have those where you're from?”

“But you all look the same…”

Edward cocked an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with it? Only the alchemists live well here.” He shrugged but put on a proud smile and pointed at himself with his thumb, puffing his chest out. “Soon we'll be skilled alchemists and surpass those losers!”

Al spoke up for the first time from behind Ed, pushing down on his left shoulder. “Brother-” He hissed at him. “Don't say that out loud, they might hear you….”

“Whatever, Al, it won't matter when we're out of here!” Ed absolutely beamed at his brother.

“Al…chemists?” Winry blinked, completely dumbfounded. “What in the world is that?”

Ed and Al turned their heads and looked at her in unison. Almost in sync. “You don't know what Alchemy is?” They even spoke in unison too.

Winry shook her head, her hair swishing in her face.

Ed looked at Al and Al looked at Ed. They smiled and looked back to Winry. They bursted with energy at her and grabbed both her hands, she almost ran out of the room.

“Come on!”

“We’ll show you!”

Yanking her into the room’s center, there was a carpet lain out for play. They let go of her and ran in random directions, searching through books and scrolls. Winry opted to stand on the very edge of the carpet, deciding to keep her distance. Both boys looked like they wanted to show her a new strange rock they found in the forest or something of the like.

Edward emerged first carrying a scroll and chalk sticks. Alphonse had bottles and jars of unknown substances. Winry was more curious now. If they were this interested in something like this, whatever it was, it must be cool.

Ed rolled up the carpet aggressively and chucked it aside. Holding open a scroll, he read off of it and began drawing lines on the stone floor. Winry was confused now. Was this Alchemy? Drawing on the floors in chalk?

As Ed finished, it was clear to Winry that it was a giant circle with triangles and writing she couldn't understand.

“What-?”

Edward tisked. “Not done yet.”

Winry shut her mouth.

Al gave him a few jars of….stuff and they both opened them and poured out the contents in the center.

“Now the material.”

“Ready?”

They got down to their knees and smiled at each other at opposite sides of the circle.

“Ready.”

A few moments went by, nothing. Winey was about to say something again when the chalk started to glow. She couldnt believe her eyes, her mouth fell open. What felt like wind was circling around the outer circle. Lights and sparks erupted from the center and triangles. The light was everywhere. The boys didn't seem bothered by this at all, they were smiling down at the pile of material they offered to the center and waited.

As the light show continued, the pile started moving. Winry's eyes grew wider. It started taking the shape of a….doll head.

That's when it got terrifying.

The doll head wiggled it's way out of the pile along with a body attached. As it formed the facial features, it looks like something out of a nightmare.

Winry started to whine. But the boys didn't stop until they heard her wail.

They whipped their heads around with worry plastered on their faces. Winry was slouched on the ground crying and rubbing her eyes. Trying to get rid of the sight that bore into her eyes. She heard their footsteps and felt their hands on her arms. Trying to get her to stop crying.

“Winry! Winry! It's okay!” Alphonse was pleading with her, holding her forearm and touching her shoulder. Edward didn't know what to do. He's only ever consoled a crying Al, but that's different than a girl crying. He just hovered and looked ashamed and lost.

When the boys got her to a hiccup, she finally took her head out of her hands and looked at them in front of her. The worry was very real on their faces. They bowed their heads and slumped.

“We're sorry…”

“We didn't know it would scare you…”

Winry hiccupped, but looked over Ed's shoulder to see a fully formed, not scary, doll sitting at the center of the circle. She looked back to sets of golden eyes looking at her. One of them looked like they were about to cry too. She smiled a little. They were only trying to show her something and make her happy.

She was about to ask if she could have the doll when Hohenhiem whipped the fabric at the doorway open.

“I heard crying! Edward, what did you do??”

The remorse on Ed's face was gone in a flash. He jumped up and huffed, stomping his feet.

“I didn't do nothing!”

Hohenhiem scanned the tosseled rug and the obvious circle drawn on the floor. He slouched and sighed, pinching his nose.

“Did you scare her with Alchemy?”

Ed crossed his arms and turned away, puffing out his cheek. “No….”

Al stood up and gripped his robes. “Yes…” Ed whipped around and opened his arms at Al in a ‘are you serious?’ manner. Sour for being ratted on.

Hohenhiem sighed again. “I'm sorry Winry. I didn't think these two were going to immediately give you nightmares as soon as I left them alone with you. I should've known…”

Ed huffed again. “What's that supposed to mean??”

Winry’s eyes whipped from one to another. Amazed by the life in the room. Silently getting up while the other two argued, she tentatively picked up the doll and inspected it. Al quietly tapped her shoulder and smiled when she looked over.

“You can have that if you want it. It won't fall apart. It's really a real doll.” He smiled soft and sweet. “We made it just for you.”

She didn't know what would come of her life here in Xerxes now that she was stuck here for the foreseeable future, but with these two around, she knows it'll be interesting at least.

“Thanks, Al.”

[dionysia-ta-astika]

To Bacchos

Bacchos of revelry, Bacchos of home. Lord of wine whom brings it out of stones You turn the bramblewood into grapevine, to boredom and anxiety bring sweet demise!

Mighty Liberator, lord of earth! Power unending, of honey and blood, Lover of lovers and bringer of sight, Bring clarity and honesty in our insides

To celebrate thy name is to ponder: What in us is divine and mortal. To grab thy cup and offer it, is a pleasure, honouring Immortals alike without measure!

[rmelster]

BOOK ONE: ISABELLE DE BOURBON, THE COURTIER.

The first gleam of the dawn tore apart the veil of mist, whilst two riders neared the town in silence.

The first of them was a rudy and placid man, clad in red cloth, with the bearing of a noble and the form of a man who in younger years had been warlike and vigorous, and in the older, merry and restful; dark and thick had once been his curls, now stricken with the silver of maturity, but his eyes were the same since he was just the Count of Clermont, a young lad wagging wars in the darkest days of his time: Raven eyes, small, dark and penetrating. The eyes of Bourbon.

Closely, his child followed; a young lady of the age of eight, who did not resembled her noble sire, but whose spirit already showed the virtues present in all of her kin. Her hair, braided and modestly dressed with a velvet hood, was a dark auburn, and the dark green dress she wore underneath her gray riding cloak made her face look fairer.

The shadows vanished, and Château de Chinon, legendary dwelling of Bourbons, appeared before their eyes. The young lady would never forget how the fortress stood in the distance, nestled on the high ground like a dragon of stone and history, as if its walls emerged from the entrails of that blessed land, and as she stared in awe from the saddle of her white palfrey, she would have swore upon her very soul, that Chinon stared her back too. At its stony feet, the Vienne river ran through the village, whispering undying legends of chivalry and war to all who listened.

“This shall be thy domain, my dear daughter” the man told his daughter, and his voice carried that accent that lives only the speak of those who dwell in the lands of Auvergne, “Upon my death, this land, that once was mine, shall become thine, and only thine.”

A flock of birds crossed the sky, and the child gripped the reins of her palfrey.

“Father, this place as always belonged to the blood of Bourbon…” she humbly said, “If I am to marry a man who shares not our bloodline, this domains…”

“… This domains shall still belong to thee and, once Death brings thee to their realm, it shall belong to thy heir too. And fear not, my child: Thy husband, Bourbon of name or not, shall not take thy name from you, nor thy claim, nor thy spirit” the father replied, and let out one last statement: “The blood of Bourbon never dies, my child: Royalty shall end, nobility shall end, our times shall past, but our name… It shall last.”

The child raised her head, and a faint smile of pride curved her lips: She would dearly remember that day, and that promise, until the very day it torn all apart.

“I will honour our name” she swore too, and her father smiled.

“Yes, thou shall” the noble man affirmed, “Now, let us go back to our path; Burgundy awaits thee, Isabelle.”

@catherinemybeloved / @nealsneen / @ricardian-werewolf

[memepocket]

𝑳𝒂𝒘𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒂 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 — 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

(a collection of dialogue prompts from the script of the 1962 movie ‘Lawrence of Arabia’. Feel free to adjust phrasing and pronouns as necessary.) ( part one. ) ( part two. )

“When he dies, you too will be a lord.”

“It seems to me that you are free to choose your own name.”

“Does your father still steal?”

“How about if we shot you down?”

“Then you have a blood feud. Do you desire it?”

“This honours the unworthy.”

“Is he your tongue?”

“To me it seems a poor place, some men find it marvellous.”

“I cannot serve.”

“It is the servant who takes money.”

“Seventy-five men I have killed with my own hands, in battle!”

“I am a river to my people.”

“It is well you say that in my tent. Thou tulip.”

“You trouble me like women!”

“Thy mother mated with a scorpion.”

“He killed. He dies.”

“It is an ancient wound.”

“I didn’t come here to watch a blood bath!”

“It was execution. No shame in that.”

“You gave life and you took it.”

“The writing is still yours.”

“The miracle is accomplished.”

“Garlands for the conqueror.”

“Tribute for the prince.”

“Flowers for the man.”

“I’m none of those things.”

[lailoken]

"'Praxis Sylva: The Patron Tree'

Of essence to Devotion upon the path is the binding magical seal of Oath, wherein the soul of the Faithful Seeker is bound in word, deed, and blood unto the Spirits of the Pleasure Garden and their work. Such is the gift of the Wayfarer unto the Father of Arboreal Wisdom, sealed in the Pact of the Patron Tree. By this act are the first steps of the Wayfarer solemnized.

With such knowledge as has been received by Counsel of the Copse, and in the good company of such wholesome spirits as have been sown by the Rite of Fallowing, go forth in purity unto a wild tree of thy heart's calling. Such may be an arbor well-known and venerated over many years, or yet it may be such a tree as has appeared in the Twilit Wood of Dream, only recently found in waking. Yet still, it may be a tree whose voice has called out to thee in thy wanderings or drawn thee beneath its branches by the strict power of fascination; or yet may have appeared as an Holy Waymark by divine arrangement of sign or omen.

In all ways shall it be hallowed unto thee, set apart from its brethren by virtue of character, portent, resonance, and magical idiolectic; and yet all such immediate knowledge may be, in its proper course, usurped by Intuition, for by way of epiphanic gnosis, conviction of the Souls of the Pure may be attained without mundane explanation.

By means of Sacred Quietus approach the tree and remain still. Within this moment of abiding, let the multitude of veils and armours raised against the mundane world be revealed in all nakedness, and with deliberation, both reckon them fairly, and tear them away. For while such thorns as thou hast put forth may serve as a bulwark against the Dominions of Man, they are an unseemly bewitchment of thyself within the Circle of Art, and a violation of the Laws of the Greenwood. Thus, by truthful attainment of the present moment, and witnessed by the Tree of thy true worship, proceed with the work of unbewitching, and know thyself revealed in the Light of the Wold.

As each veil falls, marshal thy innermost spiritual virtues—as well as all weaknesses and burdens—to the visionary form of a radiant Tree, in every way corresponding to thine essential principles, fair and foul. Witness this royal arbour standing in thy mind's eye strong and thriving, even as a greatspreading Oak in the midst of a meadow. See and know the breadth of its crown, above and below, and behold in entirety the work of its leaves and branches, greened in ecstasy. When it is accomplished, and the vision manifests of its own power, fix this image strong in thy mind's eye and stand unadorned as the Arboreal Self before the Tree of thy choosing.

Ever beholding the splendour of the Arboreal Self, let the Patron Tree in majesty be greeted in accordance with the counsel of the Heart, and then circumambulate its trunk, beholding the entirety of its form. In this, heed the teaching of the tree's outward mask: the warp and weave of its bark, the ground of its dwelling, the beasts which congregate amidst its branches. As this compass is drawn, know too the Arboreal Self as the Green Iconoclasm of the Wildwood, that spiritual intercessor betwixt thyself and thy Patron Tree whose outward form may change with the seasons, yet ever conceals mysteries, and reveals them anew. With both hands touch the trunk, lingering in the twin radiance of the trees of vision and flesh. If such is the decree of the spirits, a sign or omen may come, which, fair or foul, the Wise shall heed.

In successive pilgrimages to the Patron Tree, let sacrifices be given in addition to the original praxis: the perfumed smokes of incense, water, song, and knotted cord all shall suffice. At such a time as indicated by dream, omen, sign, and the Counsel of the Heart, let the Oath unto the Patron Tree be taken in all love, honour and severity, pledging devotion and protection unto the tree for life. In this magical compact is a gift given and received: the Wayfarer offers a single ring of his devotion, placed on a small branch high in the tree, or buried at its base. From the tree, a a single branch of wood is taken the cut on the tree sealed with the sorcerer's own lifeblood—to serve as wood for a magical fetish which the Patron Tree may indwell, and serve as a marriage-bond. The nature of the fetish is ordained by the Patron itself: such wood may become a ring for the finger, beads for a rosary, a wand, walking-staff, rune-stave, or idol.

In time, and with the good favour of the spirit, a power-compact betwixt Patron Tree and Herbarius may grow from the seeds of this union. For the fortunate, the Patron Tree and its attendant spirits may appear in Dream, or within the Waking Dream of the Magic Circle, to receive and convey blessings. The Patron stands within the Grove of Art not only as Totem, but also as Sacred Counsel; therefore let appropriate matters of inquiry be brought before the Tree and its Host for guidance. Throughout the life of the Wayfarer, a bridge of power, nurtured by devotion and spirit-communion, will link the Herbalist with the Patron Tree.

Let Devotion circumscribe intimacy betwixt Seeker and the Spirits them-lselves, written in the secret books of the Heart, for it is of concern to no other: by this is the Passion doubly kindled, the warmth of its flames appropriately directed, and one's place in the Grove of the Wise sealed.

OATH UNTO THE PATRON TREE

O Thou Shining Lamp of the First Tree of Knowledge,

Blessed art Thou and thy Attendant Host,

Blessed be thy Place of Dwelling.

By Ring of Blood and Kenning I pledge thee in Holy troth

All stewardship and adoration.

Come forth into the Grove of mine own dwelling

As I come forth into thine.

Thy roots all fallen idols embrace,

Thy form and mine entwined

As Serpent and Trunk,

All branches uplifted in power.

Sap to Blood I bind,

Leaf to Flesh I bind,

Wood to Bone I bind,

O Spirit Fair and Strong,

'Scribe thou this day within thy Rings.

All spirits here residing bear witness Unto these words and deeds of Union."

—

Viridarium Umbris: The Pleasure Garden of Shadow

by Daniel A. Schulke

[quotent-potables]

But it was the final member of the group that had given him something that he had sorely needed and always had when he came to ponder it; complete utter care and unwavering faith. Yes, he had gotten that from Arcturus but the man had expectations and he certainly let them be known regularly. What he had from Daphne was different. It was as though there was nothing he couldn't do that would disappoint her if he failed at it but had given it his all, and that was the difference.

— Honour Thy Blood, a Harry Potter fanfiction by TheBlack'sResurgence.

Read it on FF.net

[xpao-bearx]

Guess who started being consumed by playing BG3??? 👁👄👁

In honour of this INCREDIBLE game, here's my Tav!

(Sorry that the photo quality isn't the best, these are not in-game screenshots! I just took pics with my phone, but I do wanna say that my Tav has a LOT of freckles on her body that the pics didn't do justice)

Her name is Mon'sun and SHE IS MAH FUCKING BABYYY 😭❤️❤️❤️

I plan on writing a fic with her and the star himself (AKA MY DARLING 🥰): ✨️Astarion✨️ I already have a SHITLOAD of ideas, I just wanna play some more first and see how Astarion's romance pans out before I begin! So if that's something you'd be interested in reading, thanks sooo much and deffo keep a lookout for any updates~ Also, their ship name is SunStar which is JUST THE CUTEST FUCKING THING ALSKDJSKLJ

And I just wanna give my deepest love and gratitude to my two queens @kuroosexuall and @matchamocchi 💕 They have been nothing but patient and supportive of all my SERIOUSLY unhealthy fangirling over the sassy vampy elfy as well as my OC 🥲

But for the meantime, while I still haven't written my fic, below are some (*cough* a LOT so buckle up *cough*) stuff I've thought up for Mon'sun! Just to give y'all a fun lil taste of how I imagine her as a character, though I'm sure as I continue to play I'll get even more ideas and I'll probably have to edit this or post more about her, in which all posts connected to her will be tagged as #Mon'sun and Mon'sun x Astarion being tagged as #SunStar so y'all can easily search for them if you're interested. BTW I purposely left out extra details regarding her childhood as well as her thoughts about the tadpole cuz those are stoofs I'd like to reveal and explore in my fic!

And sadly, I'm not an artist, but I'm planning on and SO excited to commission various artworks of Mon'sun and SunStar from some truly extraordinary artists when the time comes so just wait for thy eyes to be blessed! \(^o^)/ Speaking of, if y'all are ever curious about Mon'sun, please don't hesitate to send me asks and such cuz your interest in my baby would be the BIGGEST honour 🥹

Now, without further ado...

Get to know "The Scarred Bard" under the cut!

In the game, I chose Voice 8 for Mon'sun but I headcanon that her voiceclaim is annapantsu (YouTuber who does a lot of amazing song covers!! 🙌)

Her theme song is Love Runs Out by OneRepublic

She does have a last name that she took on in honour from the woman who adopted her in Baldur's Gate but she hasn't found the need to tell anyone what it is

A drow half-elf and a College of Lore bard 🎵

Tends to face a lot of discrimination due to being a "filthy half-breed" and possessing drow ancestry, not to mention her drow parent being Lolth-sworn; her blood red right eye a telltale sign and a deep, angry scar permanently carved across it a merciless reminder of what she resents about herself

Occasionally has dreams and thoughts of the goddess Lolth speaking to her, tempting her with sweet whispers of cruelty and darkness. Mon'sun tries her damndest to resist--to stay on the path of good--but violent impulses erupt when the thin string of her patience (and sanity) snaps and it feels so fucking good

Mon'sun aligns as a chaotic neutral character. While she does try to be good, she is quite an unorthodox heroine in her personal little tale and can be pushed to make extreme decisions should she feel that they are for the better...or just whichever's a more fun option 🤭

Survived a poor and bleak childhood, but full of love in her early years; certain circumstances impacted this happiness which drastically changed everything

One of the youngest in the party, only in her early to mid 20s. And though she's not sure when her actual birth date is, she does consider the day she was adopted--saved--as such

Very resilient and versatile even through the worst scenarios (likely due to her past), but would much rather avoid problems whenever possible. She may be seen as a bit of a coward because of this though she certainly doesn't mind (she'd like to keep her gorgeous head, thank you very much!). However, there are times where she exhibits great bravery, such as standing up for the weak and defending innocents regardless of the consequences. She can also be quite mischievous and defiant with her enemies, truly a bard through and through with her vicious mockery 😈

She tries to see the good in everyone, to be patient and understanding, giving them the same chance she hopes to receive if she ever finds herself in a similar situation. However, some fuckers don't deserve that kindness and a sick, exhilarating part of her deep down yearns for the bloodshed sure to stain her hands. After all... She would only be granting them a mercy by ending their repulsive, pathetic lives...right?

She is proficient with weapons though she prefers casting spells especially ones that can be utilized from a good distance (Fireball being one of her all-time favourites--efficient and hot, both in a sexy way and an "I will feed your barbecued corpses to my widdle baby owlbear" way). She's also a fantastic cheerleader; she will happily let the stronger people on the team handle the grittier scraps of battle while she does a jaw-dropping performance of ✨️Bardic Inspiration✨️ on the sidelines (Lae'zel STRONGLY disapproves)

Skilled in stealth and sleight of hand accompanied by a biting wit (seriously, she has the potential to have been a rogue instead). Tries her best to make an honest living as a wandering bard, but whenever money and options are tight then she's driven to petty thievery. Although, as much as she hates to admit it, there is something in her that utterly relishes in the intoxicating rush of crime

Lockpicking is more so a hobby rather than a necessity for her. Funnily enough, with how much she likes to explore, she probably came across and "collected" the key that opens that mysterious door advancing the party's adventure. However, the key seems to be merely decorative because Mon'sun already opened the door since the shiny lock caught her eye as soon as the party stepped into the room! She'll even lockpick a shabby chest filled with absolutely nothing simply because she finds it to be a fun game to pass the time while everyone else debates on the next course of action (like a child being given a toy to amuse themselves with while the adults discuss boring adult shit). Astarion will even join her sometimes, and they also constantly challenge each other on who gets to disarm a trap first while the rest of the party make bets on who will win

What she lacks in strength, she makes up for with her incredible dexterity

While she is a survivor in her own right, she can't deny that pure dumb luck has saved her more times than a bard has bedded a dragon...which is definitely saying a lot

After travelling around for so long, the vast world of Faerûn has fuelled her curious mind with quite an impressive amount of knowledge along with fascinating stories to tell. But while she basks in the freedom of it all, her heart aches for a true sense of belonging; a home

She loves--and I mean LOVES--looting dead bodies. While their demise is certainly unfortunate, their loss is her grateful gain as well as a much less criminal way to obtain some quick valuables (hey, she can sympathize and get rich. It's a win-win!)

A biiit of a hoarder (perhaps she was a dragon in a past life, she jokes). Her pack is nearly always full of various junk, good and bad. She gets attached easily to these items and keeps making the excuse that "they could be handy or fetch for a pretty penny one day" all while almost never actually trying to get rid of them (DEFINITELY not me projecting myself here 👀)

She is VERY charismatic, successfully deceiving or talking her way out of many toils and even persuading powerful creatures to side with her which makes her pretty powerful, too, in her own right. On the other (much darker) hand... This sweet, cheerful bard has convinced some enemies to literally kill themselves, saving her from aaall the tough work she really can't be bothered with of ridding them herself--and she'll gladly do it again in a heartbeat. Work smarter, not harder as they say! 👏

Confident, outgoing, and playful with a flair for the theatrical; also rather perceptive to the people and things around her, but can be serious and empathetic when needed. Often tries to keep a positive (if not naive) outlook on life and continues to hold hope for a better future against all odds, yet is actually burying a devastating loneliness and pain within the depths of her soul

Can be a flirt and almost never hesitates to sleep with any man interested in her. For her, however, it's not about physical pleasure--it's about intimacy. Chasing after the high of being in someone's strong embrace, their warmth melting the icy melancholy her heart is trapped in; even if only for one, meaningless night

Despite everything, she has a big heart. She has a hard time saying no to anyone in need, her selflessness (or too much of it for that matter) sometimes leading to be a weakness. She particularly has a soft spot for children and animals, as well as being able to understand and communicate with the latter thanks to the "Speak with Animals" spell. And while she is a chaotic neutral, she instantly becomes chaotic good (emphasis on chaotic) when it comes down to animals, literally slaying everything in her path if it ensures the animal is safe from those that hurt it as well as adopting any stray back in camp if it's possible (Astarion hated it at first, until an ungodly swarm of adorable cats eventually started to appear 😹)

Besides her affinity for dramatics and the spotlight, she is usually a pretty relaxed person. That all changes, however, when a party is involved. Bring her to a lively tavern and pump some drinks into her system and she's more than ready to live it up the entire night! Good luck trying (and failing) to rein her back in... She's toootally not banned from a few taverns because of this 🙃

Talented in singing and playing many different instruments, but her main instrument of choice is the lyre. The lyre that she ventures everywhere with is from her childhood, a gift from someone near and dear to her heart. The "Spider's Lyre" as it's curiously called, in which her nimble fingers have nearly been sliced off countless times in her youth while practicing due to its dagger sharp strings, but she cherishes it like her own life

Although music is her passion--her blood--she indulges in other forms of creative art like writing and drawing when she has the time. She proudly showed off her skills this one instance when she doodled on Vlaakith's portrait in Crèche Y'llek. She believes she made it look so much better, but you could say that she and Lae'zel had...creative differences. But was it worth it even though she got chased around by Lae'zel afterwards as the gith maniacally swung her sword, Astarion giggling in the background while everyone else tried to stop Lae'zel? Oh, absolutely!

While she doesn't have much and has learned to make the most out of very little, she's quite vain and puts in the time and effort to take care of her appearance. As a bard, she lives to perform, but stands by the firm belief that her beauty needs to shine as brightly as her stage presence does lest she's hardly a bard at all

Easily makes friends almost everywhere she goes (even with more, um, questionable folks), but difficult for her to open up more and feel that she is genuinely close to someone (until she met the companions, that is)

Has a little habit where she fiddles with her eyebrow piercings whenever she's anxious or deep in thought

She's not a fan of dark spaces. She's not afraid of the dark, but being in any gloomy place for too long makes her feel uneasy and prone to panic attacks, desperate to feel the sun on her face again. One of the reasons why she's never visited the Underdark before, opting instead to learn about such dangerous beauty through books and other adventurers' experiences

When she's being idle...well, she's not very idle at all. She's always softly humming something to herself or slightly bouncing/dancing in place

Keeps the party entertained on their journey through singing and sharing tall tales. Well, "entertained" is a bit of a stretch, considering Lae'zel's always screaming at Mon'sun to shut up (spoiler alert: she won't) 🤐

Has nicknames for everyone in the party: Astarion is Astie (later on "my star" when romanced and Astarion calls her "my sun"), Gale is Big G, Lae'zel is Lae-Lae (*cough* more like Lae-Me-To-DEATH *cough*), Karlach is Spicy Mama, Shadowheart is Shady Girl, and Wyll is Bof (short for Blade of Frontiers). Can't say that everyone's too pleased with what they're so lovingly (and weirdly) bestowed with, but they just got used to it and allows only Mon'sun to refer to them as such

Can be deemed as the therapist of the group. While she absolutely has issues of her own (and plenty, might I add), she chooses instead to focus on everyone else and help them. She is super protective over them (although, one pale elf in particular has caught her favour out of all)

While she cares a lot about everyone in the party, she does consider Gale to be her bestfriend. They just get along really well together; Mon'sun proves to be an eager and like-minded listener/conversationalist to the wizard prodigy's ramblings while Gale is just thrilled that someone (and so pretty, too) is actually so kind and attentive to him as an individual, even helping him with his little--well, BIG--situation. Astarion, on the other hand... Well, let's just say that he's not as thrilled for Mon'sun to be so close to someone else, especially Gale of all weirdos 🙄

She's a pretty colourful person so it fits that her apparel is the same. She'll never be caught dead wearing something so woeful as plain ol' black or white. In fact, being so unbearably boring may just be the cause of her death!

Has complicated feelings about gods. They're interesting, for sure, and she respects anyone's beliefs in them though she wouldn't exactly put her faith in any of them let alone kneel (looking at you Vlaakith). She'd rather put her faith in herself--just like she always has--but that doesn't mean she won't take advantage of any "divine" blessings that may come her way. Such is the case when she obtained the Phalar Aluve sword from the Underdark, offering a tiny bit of her blood in exchange which pleased Eilistraee yet greatly pissed off Lolth (Mon'sun the chaos gremlin definitely got a kick out of that especially since she knows the big scary spider lady can't do anything to her...she thinks. She hopes)

While she certainly revels in having the upper hand in troublesome situations, she's not really a power-hungry person. Although, having power does have its perks. She won't lie, she has played around in her tadpole-infested mind the far-fetched but very possible idea of seizing the Absolute's followers under her own control (I mean, hey, if there's one thing she's learned during this unique little trip is that anything is possible). Not all cultists are actually evil; she likes to think that she could give them a fair shot at redemption, and it doesn't hurt that some of these cultists are powerful people that could potentially be used to "liberate the world of evil"... Blame (or rather thank) Astarion for unlocking (hehe subtle pun) this ambition of hers, though she doesn't think she could ever do this without Astarion ruling by her side--together

[studying-space-of-annie]

Some important macbeth quotes!

"Fair is four, and foul is fair" -witches

"The instruments of darkness" -Banquo to the witches

"My dearest partner of greatness" -macbeth to lady macbeth

"Yet I do fear thy nature: it is too full o'th'milk of human kindness" -lady macbeth to macbeth

"Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear" -lady macbeth to macbeth

"Come, you spirits" -lady macbeth

"Unsex me" -lady macbeth

"Look like th'innocent flower But be the serpent under't" -lady macbeth to macbeth

"Our honoured hostess!" "Fair and noble hostess" -Duncan to lady macbeth

"When you durst do it, then you were a man" -lady macbeth to macbeth

"Is this a dagger I see before me (...) Come, let me clutch thee" -macbeth

"Infirm of purpose!" -lady macbeth to macbeth

"Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No" -macbeth

"O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!" -macbeth

"Thunder" -stage directions

"A devil more damned in evils to top macbeth" -Macduff

"Malicious, smacking of every sin that has a name" -malcolm regarding macbeth

"But I must also feel it as a man" -Macduff

"Out, damned spot: out, I say!" -lady macbeth

"Those he commands move only in command, Nothing in love" -Angus regarding macbeth

"The Devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!" -macbeth to servant

"Cure her of that" -macbeth regarding lady macbeth

"Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand" -malcolm to others

"Out, out, brief candle!" -macbeth to (dead) lady macbeth

"Worthy uncle" "right noble son" "Worthy Macduff" -malcolm

[wellprompted]

shit said, 5th time’s the charm

“if you’d interrogated me a little harder I would’ve confessed.”

“are you moIST?”

“______ fucking shoved her heathen tongue through the back of my hEAD!”

“sex is a contact sport.”

“for context, _______ has some big boobies”

“you are a USELESS waste of oxygen—”

“please, no more penises, guys, please!”

“oop, I slipped and grabbed your throat.”

“just put it in, man.”

“it’s way too late to listen to you scream”

“get out of there, you fucknut”

“this is why i fuck with the lights off.”

“oh I shouldn’t have told you to kill yourself, my bad.”

“I don’t belong in this flesh vessel.”

“there’s no dick on that snowman.”

“dude i wish there was, i’d be riding it.”

“it’s your turn to be in the hentai.”

“my hands are stuck my hands are stuck my hands are stuck!”

“don’t pin me against the wall, ____! that’s not where i should be!”

“can’t be a war criminal if there’s no geneva code.”

“don't kill both of us you stupid bitch”

“you wanna throw me in the fire you're dying with me”

“thanks for the handholding, I’ll paypal you later.”

“aphrodite cursed sappho with simp disease.”

“I forgot that ______ came strapped.”

“oh i was dead during that year.”

“they're slaves to the education system, your honour“

“i felt this deep in my meowmeow”

“unfortunately god has let us live another day so we're here to terrorize you”

“YOU SWING THE DICK?”

“Feast thy eyes on thee buttcheeks”

“THE MOUTH IS WILLING BUT THE FLESH IS WEAK”

“god kinkshamed horny salmons so hard they can only live 2 weeks”

“why did god let the intern code the blood”

“so now i get to objectify men”

“you put your oviposition away”

“IM TRYING TO SOLVE A MYSTERY”

“i am the clown and this is my circus”

“if i wanted to try authentic swedish balls i’d go to a dating app”

Let’s be heroes!

I think I’d rather live.

Shit shit shit shit shit----

Don’t save that bitch; protect the power thingie!

I’m Vader!

Who needs their dreams crushed?

I do---wait…

Has anyone seen that guy; I threw him somewhere

This guy? I executed him; he landed at my feet!

They didn’t get it right the first time!

What do I have to do, blow out the window?

Hopefully you get some more fucking rocket launchers!

[ginjones]

Dreamling WIP

“Are you enjoying this game?” Asks his Stranger, stepping closer, the narrow walls no longer a barrier. He moves into the space and continues forwards.

 “It is like a play, is it not?  You always enjoyed plays. And what scene have we walked into now? Would you have me as your humble patron and you the gentle inn keeper? Come to lend an ear to my woes and assume a reciprocal understanding?”

He doesn’t understand what is happening or why the air seems fused in burnished heat. Never, in any of their brief interactions, which Hob has committed to memory, have his Stranger’s eyes claimed him in this way. As if, under their watchful gaze, his visage could be altered at any moment; changed or moulded to a pleasing formation; his Stranger orating his function and he a scripted theme. An object in the Mise-en-scène.

He is standing so closely now that he can feel the cool press of his stranger’s form, the weight of the fabric and there is a possessiveness in the way his eyes rest on him, then flicker upwards to track every movement like he is being glimpsed through a microscope. A speck in the vastness of the cosmos.

In one swift movement, his wrists are clasped, and a cool finger is pressed to the nape of his neck and then-

He is glancing down from rafters at a viewpoint as high as Heaven. Sitting at his Lord’s feet and watching as mortal men in curious raiment’s walk across the stage. He is their fear and the salt slicked sweat on their upturn collars and he is the crowd, who shriek in delight, and he is mouthing silently each line:

 “Oh Gentlemen, see, see! Dead Henry’s wounds. Open their congeal’d mouths and bleed afresh. Blush, blush, thy lump of foul deformity; For tis thy presence that exhales this blood”.

And then his teeth are extending downwards as spiked blades, tasting the meaning of those words in iron tang and vengeance and he wants to rip the warming flesh of Richard’s throat and exsanguinate that jewelling life force then lean in to pour his worthy gift into the cavernous mouth of his lordship. Then a shiver would come over him when a perfect hand would pet absently through his hair and he would be calmed, sighing into the touch. Perfect, honoured. Owned.

“What did you prefer the most?” His Stranger hums, “You went through phases, I remember; perhaps when you responded to my own temperaments. Richard the III for many decades, and then, I believe, Twelfth Night?”

And again, under his Stranger’s touch, Hob is faced with the impossibility of a sense memory that blossoms on the outskirts of his mind. There is sunlight through the stained glassed arches and he is lying on warming stone and it is 1605 and “that old and antique song we heard last night: Methought it did relieve my passion much. More than light airs and recollected terms.”

Distantly, somewhere, he knows these words in every language. Can taste the intonation of Spanish, of Swedish of German and remembers, somehow, strolling through an infinite library to beg for a quill that he might write every line. To practise them all. To make his lord proud. To thank him for imparting his gift until such a worthy mortal.

“I don’t like Shakespeare” is all Hob can say, and he moves away from the touch and stumbles; stupefied and made insensate when his Stranger, continues:

“On the contrary, you enjoy him very much, little one.”

That pet name again.

“My name is Hob.”

“…Yes,” His Stranger replies, sounding unsure for the first time. “In the condensed version, as you prefer.”

“Short for Robert.”

“No…” His Stranger continues, “Hob is not short for Robert. Your full name is Hobethenus”.

[learnthisphrase]

Best books of 2023

The best books I read in 2023

Knock Knock, Open Wide by Neil Sharpson (Tor Nightfire, 2023)

Imagine Tana French writing a folklore-infused horror novel, and you have Knock Knock, Open Wide. The always-thrilling plot takes in a life-changing accident, a love affair, and a sinister TV series; the storylines overlap and entwine perfectly, and there’s a lot of beautifully crafted character work. It’s a dark and eerie book, but full of life and love, too.

Black Mountain by Simon Bestwick (Independent Legions, 2021)

A mixed-media horror novel disguised as non-fiction about the many strange incidents surrounding a cursed/haunted mountain. Unputdownable and genuinely unnerving at points – I had the time of my life reading this. I’m amazed it isn’t better-known among horror fans!

The Last Language by Jennifer duBois (Milkweed Editions, 2023)

A riveting, disturbing book about a language therapist’s relationship with the autistic man she’s helping to ‘speak’ using the controversial method of facilitated communication. I read it in one fevered session, completely in the grip of the dizzying, queasy moral maze duBois creates.

Hydra by Adriane Howell (Transit Lounge, 2022)

Just when you think the ‘unhinged woman’ trend has had its day, this excellent Australian debut offers a fresh spin on the whole idea. Anja’s dry, idiosyncratic voice rings out from the page, and the plot is never far away from intimations of something dark and weird. Read if you love Ottessa Moshfegh and Tár.

My Death by Lisa Tuttle (2004, reissued by NYRB Classics 2023)

A perfect novella about a widowed writer who becomes obsessed with her latest project, a biography of a little-known artist’s muse. Astonishingly clever, convincing and absorbing, it’s a revelation and turned me into an instant fan of Tuttle’s writing.

Grasshopper by Barbara Vine (Penguin, 2000)

A beautiful and eloquent coming-of-age tale dressed up as a crime novel. The plot has so many different strands that it’s difficult to describe concisely, but this is essentially a character-focused story about identity, aspiration and love. The rare book that actually made me cry.

How Can I Help You by Laura Sims (Putnam, 2023; UK ebook out in January 2024)

Explores the tense relationship between two women with secrets (some more dangerous than others) who both work at a public library. A sharp, nuanced character study that is also utterly propulsive. If you loved Death of a Bookseller, this should be next on your wishlist.

Novel with Cocaine by M. Ageyev, translated by Michael Henry Heim (Picador, 1985)

1930s cult classic about a dissolute Russian teenager, his friendships, affairs and drug addiction. Think No Longer Human, but (in my opinion) way better. It’s philosophical, funny and stuffed with remarkable descriptive writing.

Where the Dead Wait by Ally Wilkes (Titan, January 2024)

Years after an infamous failed expedition, a captain with a sullied reputation must return to the Arctic in search of his former lieutenant. Immersive and enthralling at every level, this is a blood-soaked, frostbitten treat – I’ve been describing it as The Terror meets Heart of Darkness.

The Devil’s Playground by Craig Russell (Doubleday, 2023)

An elaborately plotted historical mystery about a legendary silent horror movie. Come for the lost film and its ghosts; stay for the well-researched portrait of old Hollywood, the world-weary heroine, and the fascinating detective story.

We Were Never Friends by Margaret Bearman (Brio Books, 2020)

A woman looks back at a strange period of her youth when her family became entangled with Kyla, a hated classmate of hers. Dazzling at the sentence level – Bearman illuminates Lotti and Kyla’s world with startling colour, vividly portraying the emotional landscape of adolescence.

Honour Thy Father by Lesley Glaister (Bloomsbury, 1991)

Four elderly – yet naive – siblings live in self-imposed imprisonment amid the squalid remains of their family home. How did they end up like this? We Have Always Lived in the Castle meets Come Join Our Disease in a dark tale that perfectly balances tender nostalgia, black humour and sinister threat.

Angel by Elizabeth Taylor (Virago, 1957)

We meet Angel as an impetuous 15-year-old convinced she will become a great novelist, and follow throughout her life as she first fails upwards, then eventually loses everything. It’s a tragic story that centres on a pathetic character, yet Taylor writes with a compassion that makes it almost romantic.

The Night Ocean by Paul La Farge (Penguin, 2017)

A labyrinthine series of stories within stories inspired by H.P. Lovecraft – but you definitely don’t need to like (or have read) Lovecraft to enjoy it. Deceptively complex, it excavates the lives of its characters while maintaining a subtle sense that the whole narrative is haunted.

Looking Glass Sound by Catriona Ward (Viper, 2023)

My favourite of Ward’s books since her debut Rawblood, this is a story about murder that deals with the long shadow it casts. It’s also about writing and witchcraft, unrequited love, and the death of the author, and is unexpectedly heartbreaking.

Brainwyrms by Alison Rumfitt (Cipher Press, 2023)

This book takes the ‘trauma as horror’ trope and eats it from the inside out. It’s full of fearless writing about fetishes, transness, transphobia, dysphoria, and what – if anything – it means to be virtuous. While often disgusting (be warned), I wanted to reread it straight away.

Where Furnaces Burn by Joel Lane (2012, reissued by Influx Press 2023)

A sprawling map of linked stories; layered, moody and strange. Not the easiest book to recommend – Lane, one of my favourite writers, invariably creates very bleak worlds – but an incredibly rewarding reading experience.

Notable reread: Kiss Me First by Lottie Moggach (Picador, 2013)

A grieving, lonely young woman finds solace on an online debate forum and ends up immersed in someone else’s life. Just as fast-paced, gripping and brilliantly voice-driven as it was when I first read it a decade ago.

Honourable mentions

So many good books came out in 2023 that I have to mention a few more. The Book of Ayn by Lexi Freiman was the funniest, sharpest, most quotable novel I read this year. I loved the intriguing layers of Ben Tufnell’s The North Shore and Viola Di Grado’s poignant Blue Hunger, translated by Jamie Richards. Verity M. Holloway’s romantic, atmospheric The Others of Edenwell deserved way more attention. And this may be an unpopular opinion, but I enjoyed Elizabeth Hand’s A Haunting on the Hill more than The Haunting of Hill House.

For thought-provoking plots: Service by Sarah Gilmartin and Kids Run the Show by Delphine de Vigan, translated by Alison Anderson. For pure thrills: Nicholas Binge’s mind-bending Ascension and Jinwoo Chong’s dazzling Flux. For both, and great suspense: A Flaw in the Design by Nathan Oates.

And not forgetting the brilliant 2023 books I read as review copies last year: Nina Allan’s masterpiece Conquest, Alice Slater’s ultra-compelling Death of a Bookseller, and Maria Dong’s loveable Liar, Dreamer, Thief.

[libidomechanica]

But lets it so large an orb, as truly, know

And one the light, then quickly gone?     Around that motto drew. Show! A thousand honour of union     was Juan; whom shall have he did sip, and cast up from their     order keep we thinks gay Punch hath ending in her eyes nor     ears, till older man who

loves me again: the Future I     embrace; and lady friends them all this sick period close     the curtains over you except once on a day, so short,     and made a monument, so well served in this very weel     aff like Autumne plums, did

drop, and cause some pinnes hurt did     whine, by my side, so is her eyes glowing first. Strait is the     kitchen lightning a candle to touch upon them. Has     powerless Heliades melt into his repartees. When the     landscape which sight, they rode;

they take your regular in     paradise had more white with vagabonding sheets. A hidden     mystery once, and put the chosen it. Pensive he eyes,     lips another; no sister flower—may choose her voices     die, vibrates in the doors

ajar? His Soul was constant     colonies at last, to fold, birds more purpose lost, where am     I? Brake with her arms infold him his smoke occupied their     true hypocrite at least all price, when in an hour with you     fightingale does shed

its cool underwater filter’d     in a thoughted Venus having wretch! Some deem it but her     wings which in rubles, diamonds, cash, and sees best work, yet swell     threshold, he, or hand had my load before the saints and saints     had once think’st thou need not

see a single laughing at his     way, but true,—last war the wayward love, my bright sun glorifies     their guided steps can find nothing hastily. Which lovers     dream of Heaven to reach heart shall know, it is very     miserable Knight thee, which

is the stature, all are but with     the bench behind the clove, and murmurous vestibule his     youth, and the realme of Lorraine; and draw one Breath you this. Where     were dewd with many a sniggering flames in eyes? Pensive     he eyes, thoughts so sweetly

doth fall, the fetid wombs of blood,     with stay thought, in pity of love their hearts to—all at last     wet step before the wall, like Autumne plums, did drop a flowers     with the hung his common- place! Farewell, hear, mistress, for     Tyrans make a lyzard

dull, to taste. From each light voyage     or Shah, and the nymph that Fate avenges arms Shirúeh with     her grieve: for sharply, and hotel; thy packets, all hoped to     find its love a sister flows away; a single laughter     loved the best presume for

I have my body’s bane would surpass     the equinox, that sliding hip to haunch. Is it thy     seal-manual on my thought to owe, insolvent every     willing me. Thou dost speak no square were out of the dale, the     mysterious: besides,

so plied and stitched up in fatal     Juan ever made. The little Turk refused to walk away,     as with burning in a fit of waste, refuse and dubious     bone, though the cold ran the welkin volleys out his poor     old breast. Various arts

of melancholy rite for the     break. I am the heavy Saturn laugh’d, as if it seems     unkind. Of a wee white should not that ourselves awake, and     expire; so was of more perjured eye, to see me weep so     sore, hey ho! Don Juan now

was she. You tell the slow-picked, halting     travell’d; and kissing injury, revenge from his ivied     nook glow like a race- horse; much as may be Boaz, and     fingers on this wish, nor blank; it means to immure herself     in me. Birds, gusts and now

she will Europe’s sagest head.     Be cut in Phaeton’s time, and destroy the cattle’s feet, scrambling     ecstasy, till Paradise: wheels round my hope! When Newton     saw an apple doth sit, long siege to their fox-hunt o’er     its steady surprise a

heap of pain. An image I do     steal thyself, by turns to pull. Here he could tell nought can tire,     and Lamia, what can ye recognition from thy     should be able for know, through or smooth as snow she seeks: he     shoulders, heav’n-directed,

to go, whilst ravish’d with no soul     and unload all good to live. Mae nor mermaid’s voice and alone     the writhed her to Its delicacy—stoops at once     ye shall lay bare her long by hardest fate, the bows her heart.     He spoke, and yet these dinner;

angle, the soldier’s death’s ebon     dart, to strike the prison’d in her, she: but thou, that turns     up through they rang on her troubled brain;—and tug at the all     over America. Teaches one to folk—remember     me when the low starlight.

Who, in my e’e, to this flesh helps     soul! Nor did when they: alas that joy can get a fresh beauty     is to me as laughter knit into each other ran     in his magic vapour of some a little leaning up     this proud head lolled back,

nor brag not of. Just such art as     from a half-unquench’d volcano go. Have in the primrose     bank whereon with brasswork prinked, each leaning in the god     of day, to lord and lads indifference certes, she was     Nor more than she frame to?