#like it makes sense of course it was made from a joining of....... fluids.........

[asweetprologue]

i know probably nobody following me is even relatively in this fandom but I just finished s5 of the dragon prince and I gotta tell you. the canonical lovechild of the gay-coded villains was not something I saw coming

[g1rlken]

obsessed/possessive felix catton 🫣

Oh. Oh absolutely.

Anon you’re so real for this one🤞

-

Obsessive felix

word count: 1.3k (one shot)

Warnings: the req +sorry if he gets a bit toxic

-

For someone who grew up with a second pair of everything irreplaceable items were rare for felix. Or people, most relations superficial, nothing money can’t buy. That’s why she was different. He had to work for her, to be noticed to gain her affection. As unusual as it was for him he didn’t mind it.

Before they even started dating, it was difficult for felix to try and get her attention. They had different majors and one friend group in common most of whose gatherings she rarely joined. Occasional weekends here and there. He asked about her around, causality came naturally to him so most didn’t suspect a thing. Her lectures, her schedule, library visits, he memorised it all within a time span of a few days.

Felix would pick up the book she’d be returning at library, at first it was only to get an insight to what she’s interested in. What she reads in order to strike a conversational of coincidentally having same interests. However her long kept book smelt like her fragrance. It made him question his sanity halfway through a book on fluid mechanics if he was trapped by the contents of the book or the scent of her from it, it was the latter.

Much pinning, much accident meetings later they’d finally hit off. From his own past patterns and experiences in romance felix knew he would feel less and less intensely for her once he’d have her. She surprised him. As did himself, his feelings grew much more intensely than decreasing.

He felt wholly consumed by the being of her and it still felt not enough. He wanted to be drenched like the sand by the sea during a storm, he wanted her to be the rays that open his life like the petals of a morning glory flower. Because in one sense she was the answer to his glory, the glory he’s had to work for. One he wanted to announce to the whole world that she was his and the one he wanted to shield from the whole world because she was his. And his only.

She brought a sense of grounded serenity with her, in the morning with her locks softly spilled over his chest as she’d sleep through her first alarm which would evidently wake him up before her but he’d be glad. Because it would result to let him have his most cherished moment, the softest of mornings with her in his arms. The second alarm would only make him hold her tighter, not wanting to let go off her so soon.

One would forgo and turn a blind eye to a lot of things for love, his tender love came at the expense of his intense one as well. Though he was the softest of lovers, with her behind closed doors. It could most certainly be felt being with him however at certain instances it could be accounted for just how fiercely he loved. Aggressive make out sessions at the party, if someone stared at her a bit too long. It got awkward at times, in his lap or against the wall in a crowded dimly lit room. Not for him of course, it could get overbearing at times though. “You always pull something like that!” She complained as they returned from this one party, felix thought his possessive traits were subtle.

“Like what? Like kissing you? My girlfriend?” He questioned with a scoff as he removed his jacket and hanged it on the door hanger inside her dorm room.

“No-but a whole make out session? There were people around!” She complained trying to reason with him, had she felt uncomfortable with it she could’ve told him during it but it wasn’t that. Yet there was something she couldn’t pinpoint or maybe chose not to.

“It was a party” he scoffed as he walked over to her and pulled her closer to him by her waist to pause her whining, “it’s common to make out with your girlfriend at a party.”

She pulled away from his grasp, not wanting to have the firmness of the conversation she was trying to have be dismayed “No it’s always like this, especially at parties. You basically manhandle me the entire time-“

“Manhandle you?” He stopped her midway, scoffing at the sound of her baseless proponent “Really? So dancing with you, kissing you is now manhandling you?”

“It’s not, but your arms around me, kissing my neck, trying to kiss me while I’m in the middle of a conversation with someone that’s so unideal.” She advocated for what she was trying to say, she knew he was always big on physical touch and she never once minded it. However it wasn’t the first time it had happened where she’d try to have a normal conversation with anyone and felix would kiss the nape of her neck as she’d talk, pull her into his lap if she was sitting next to him. Completely disregarding whoever she was conversing with.

“So having a conversation is much more important than being close to me?” He asked, his tone was mild and composure relaxed but he felt border line offended.

“That’s not what I’m saying…” she sighed rubbing her eyes for a second, “you know that’s not how I’m saying it-“

“—Oh no please enlighten me how much of an inconvenience it is if I kiss you in front of other people!” Felix interrupted her.

“We just seem like that obnoxious PDA couple everywhere we go! And it’s not just this party or parties in general-everywhere you just…” she trailed off looking for the right word.

“Suffocate you.” He filled in for her with a scoff and looked away from her crossing his arms.

“No.” She replied firmly “No you just get overbearing. Where does that come from, talk to me.”

“Do you seriously want me to justify myself for wanting to be close to my girlfriend? Do you hear yourself?”

“Do you hear yourself felix!” Exclaiming she sighed regaining her composure, “Its like you can’t stomach the fact that I exist outside of this relationship, why can’t you just commute and tell me what’s your issue?”

“You don’t get it do you?” He let out a dejected scoff and approached closer to her, “it is fucking infuriating to see you paint me out like I’m irrational-I’m not impulsive because I’m madly in love, y/n, I am madly in love with you and I know exactly what I’m doing. To safeguard what we have, after you the most precious thing that’s happened to me is our relationship. We come off as an obnoxious couple? I come off as possessive? Fuck it.” He stated confidently as he took her hands in his, “I care about you, your sense of self and individuality is very dear to me and I’m sorry if you feel otherwise. I’ve never been in this place before where losing someone would worry me but losing you terrifies me to my core. I’m not irrational, I'm maybe rational to the point of obsession. But I am just a man who loves you more than anything in this world.” His gaze never lifted off of her eyes the entire time and he felt a bit surreal having confessed his all-consuming, all-encompassing love for her. There was a sense of vulnerability in being freed of the truth.

“Felix…” she breathed as her gaze softened, his flaws were the same as hers in a different dynamic and he was rough around the edges but now after what he confessed? She saw his love in a different much serious and committed light. Devoted. She looked down at her hands in his and back up at him with a soft smile adorning her face, she didn’t know how else to reply to him so she just leaned forward brushing her lips against his in a passionate kiss. He held held her in his arms lengthening the kiss.

“You’re mine. Mine to protect, mine to love, mine to cherish.”

“—Yours.”

[beenbaanbuun]

sick w/ addams!matz

whilst i’m busy writing part two to opposites attract, here is just some silly fluffy stuff!!

——————————————

you’re sick. flu, by the feel of it. with your heavy head, sniffly nose and permanent fatigue, there’s very little else it could be. it’s unfortunate, but nothing you couldn’t deal with by yourself. a few days bed rest and you’ll be fine.

your lovers don’t quite agree. all it took was for the word ‘fever’ to leave your lips and suddenly all hell broke loose. you should’ve known that the second you brought it up to seonghwa it would be blown entirely out of proportion. the man is level headed about a lot of things; you are not one of them.

it had been a military operation with him the second the word ‘fever’ dropped from your lips. for three days now, you’ve been under strict instruction to not leave their bed, trapped there like a prisoner with hongjoong watching over you like a hawk. if you step a toe out of line, you get a sharp slap to the back of your thigh and a quick scolding. its hardly enough to keep you in check, especially when your regular punishments are so much heavier, but hongjoong is also under his husbands strict instructions to be as gentle with you as humanly possible.

it’s boring.

of course, you love talking with hongjoong when he has the time to join you in bed, but he still has to work. laying for hours at a time just staring at the back of your daddy’s head as he writes letters to his clients is nothing short of dull. he expects you to stay silent so he can concentrate on what he’s writing. you thought it to be a silly rule until you disobeyed on the first day and he moved himself and his work to the armchair out in the hallway; he could still listen in for any sign of you trying to escape the confines of their bed, but he could finally get enough peace and quiet to concentrate on his work. those few hours were so boring that you quickly made the decision that you could manage silence for a few hours if it meant that you weren’t alone.

sometimes seonghwa would come and visit you in the room, although with you being sick, you found that he had far less free time than usual. in between working in the greenhouse and cooking up cold remedies in the kitchen, he found that he actually got to spend very little time by your side. he trusted hongjoong to follow his very specific instructions on how to take care of you (make sure you’re drinking fluids, make sure you’re always warm, replace the cloth on your head every 1-2 hours) but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be more active in your care routine himself.

its the morning of the 3rd day than seonghwa finds his wish coming to fruition, and unfortunately his time being stretched even thinner. of course, he doesn’t blame hongjoong for having to leave the house for work—antiquities don’t source themselves, after all—but he can’t help but feel a little stressed with the notion of adding ‘caring for darling’ onto his already long list of tasks. from what he’s heard from hongjoong, you still like to push your luck even when your head feels like a furnace and you’re coughing your lungs up. he hardly has the time to guard you like hongjoong does, so as he tucks your still sleeping body into the almost empty bed, he decides that he’ll just have to hope that maybe today you’ll see sense and behave. it’s a long shot, but he’ll just have to trust you for today.

ten minutes later, he finds that trust being broken when he hears a bump from the bedroom. he sighs, closing his eyes in frustration as the sound of a door creaking open echos through the house. the slapping of bare feet against a slick wooden floor soon follows and before he knows it, you’re coming down the stairs. it’s a good job that seonghwa isn’t an angry person, finding it an ugly emotion that doesn’t reflect well on anyone. you’d be in for a hellish day otherwise.

‘you’re supposed to stay in bed, little lamb,’ he hums as you show your face in the door to his greenhouse. you look wide eyed and bewildered, your brain still clearly muddled by sleep. it’s cute, and he finds himself smiling though his annoyance. you hobble towards him wrapped in the black knitted bedspread he’d lay over you not moments before, and he finds himself unable to control the chuckle that bubbles up within him. he lays the watering can down on the table and spreads his arms for you to topple into. ‘tell me why you’re flaunting my rules so carelessly, darling.’

you bask in his warmth for just a second, feeling safe and happy in his lithe arms. he’s so much gentler with you than hongjoong is; even when you’re sick your daddy likes to manhandle you to be exactly where he wants. it’s not like you’re complaining, though. you like the way it makes you feel when he treats you so helplessly.

‘woke up alone,’ you mutter into seonghwa’s chest. the lace of his blouse was scratchy against your too-hot face, but you can’t seem to pull yourself away from him. you just want him close, even if you have to sacrifice your comfort for the sake of it. ‘hongjoong wasn’t there and you weren’t there and i’m lonely.’

any frustration that resided within seonghwa slowly melts away with your confession. you’re just too sweet for him to stay upset with, especially when you’re so dopey and reliant on them.

‘hongjoong had to work, lamb; your daddy can’t stay at home all the time,’ soft fingers lace themselves into your hair, gently petting you like you’re some sort of kitten. he supposes you do rather look like one when you’re wearing your collar. you’re just so sweet and submissive when you sit by seonghwa’s feet at he puts it on for you. it’s a shame you’re too sick for that right now, your skin too sensitive and the collar too tickly; it would only serve to irritate you. ‘and you know that i have to work as well. i have to take care of the house, the plants and cook an unheavenly amount of chicken noodle soup for you. i wish i could stay in bed with you, but i can’t.’

and you understand, of course you do, but that doesn’t mean you’re happy with it. you want hongjoong to be home, and you want seonghwa to have less to do. you want to be stuffed between them from the moment you wake up to the moment you sleep, doted on and cared for by your two lovers. the notion of that not being possible just doesn’t seem to compute in your fever-addled brain. you whimper into seonghwa’s chest.

‘oh, my precious little lamb,’ he coos, resting his chin on top of your head, ‘hongjoong will be home in a few hours, and i’m sure i can take a short break from my errands at some point. it’s hardly like you’re going to be alone for long.’

‘take a break now,’ you insist, ‘just for a little while…’

it’s a trap, seonghwa knows that. the moment he crawls back into bed with you, you’ll find some way of making him stay there until hongjoong gets home. either you’ll crawl onto him and refuse to let him go, or you’ll use your adorable charm to manipulate him into staying with you. still, he can’t find himself able to say no to you. he hums in agreement and pulls away from you slightly.

‘okay, little lamb,’ your face lights up and he grins. even with your sweaty forehead and slightly grey skin, he can’t help but think you’re the prettiest creature to walk the earth, ‘lead the way.’

[permanentswaps]

The Swap Club - New Peter's POV

Read Part 1 here.

I'll never understand why someone as attractive as Peter Katsouris would join the Swap Club. I mean, just look at him - those chiseled muscles, that confident smirk. He could have anyone he wanted effortlessly. Yet, here he was, willingly swapping bodies with a random stranger.

At least for me, being in the Swap Club made sense. My old body was constantly out of shape, no matter what I tried to fix it. Hours at the gym, strict diets, you name it – nothing worked. I felt trapped.

By the time Peter came around, I had been a member of the Swap Club for years. I was what we called a “banker,” someone who held onto their first place pick until the perfect body came along. Sure, some cute bodies had come up in the monthly lottery, and they had potential – but they mostly weren't my type. So, I held out hope for something better, knowing that eventually, the perfect opportunity would present itself.

As soon as I saw Peter's body pop up on the list, it was like the universe had finally heard my prayers. With just five minutes to make my decision before my swap, I didn't hesitate. I confirmed my selection without a second thought, my heart pounding with anticipation.

Suddenly, for the first time in three years, I felt all the sensations of the physical world. And I knew immediately that I had made the right choice.

Standing in front of the mirror, I marveled at my new reflection. Peter's chiseled features stared back at me, his sexy smirk now my own. The power and strength emanating from this body were palpable. For the first time ever, I felt confident.

As I flexed Peter's hard muscles and admired his toned physique, I knew I needed to hit the gym to test out what this body could really do.

Arriving at the gym, I wasted no time diving into my workout routine. For two hours straight, I pushed myself to the limit, testing every muscle group imaginable. The weight felt lighter, the movements more fluid than I had ever experienced before. It was as if this body had been tailor-made for physical perfection, responding effortlessly to the demands I placed upon it.

As the beads of sweat dripped down my brow and my muscles screamed in exertion, I felt alive in a way I had never felt before. Each rep, each lift, I reveled in the sensation of strength coursing through my veins. After what felt like an eternity of intense working out, I finally decided to leave the gym, my body still buzzing with adrenaline and satisfaction.

Making my way to the showers, I couldn't resist the temptation to feel myself up, to explore every curve and contour of this perfectly sculpted form. As the warm water cascaded down my toned physique, I began to lose myself in arousal.

However, my tranquility was soon interrupted by the sound of footsteps entering the shower area. Glancing over, I saw a cute young twink making his way towards me, his slender frame adorned with nothing but a towel draped loosely around his waist.

Watching him, a surge of desire started stirring within me. As he stepped into the shower stall next to mine, I couldn't resist stealing glances in his direction. The temptation to reach out, to touch him, was overwhelming. I hesitated, but then I remembered that in Peter's body, I’m hot as hell.

He caught my gaze and flashed me a shy smile. I responded with a confident smirk. Without saying a word, I motioned for him to come over to me.

I guided his hand to trail down my chiseled abs and defined waist, relishing in the sensation of his touch against my newly acquired body. As I lifted my other arm and flexed my bicep, I watched with anticipation as his eyes widened in awe. Encouraged by his response, I guided him further, urging him to explore every inch of my muscular frame.

But it was when I lifted my arms, exposing my hairy pits, that the true intimacy began. With a sense of desire hanging in the air, I guided him to lick and nuzzle against the soft tufts of hair, reveling in the sensation of his warm breath against my skin.

Even though he eagerly complied with my silent commands, it was still not enough. I wanted more. I wanted to feel him take all of me.

Without hesitation, I turned him around, pressing his arms against the slick tiled wall. With a sense of urgency driving me forward, I thrust my thick cock into his waiting ass, the tightness and warmth of his hole enveloping me in ecstasy.

Lost in the throes of passion, we surrendered ourselves to the rhythm and came together in perfect harmony, the twink climaxing without me even touching his cock.

Letting him down off the wall, the twink turned to me and said, “That was amazing. Thanks so much, uhh... what was your name again?”

“Peter,” I replied, flexing my new bicep for him again. “Peter Katsouris, nice to meet you.”

[sugoi-writes]

Biting back the urge to say 'fuck it' and come off anon cause I keep finding gif-sets that would work perfectly for Smutmus. I know why tumblr doesn't allow image/gif sharing while on anon, but goddammit! The visual aids do wonders for the parts I'm not articulate enough to write without sounding repetitive. 😩

But on that note: I've decided to just throw caution to the wind and do a reveal after this one! Just wanna play a bit more with what little editing mobile allows and get summaries of the Smutmus Holy Trinity put on a masterlist first~ ❤️

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby?" You breathed out in between your gasps and moans. The corners of your mouth twitched upward as Alastor's thrusts became more and more animalistic with every 'slap!', every curse that bounced off the walls and invaded his senses. You just felt so fucking good! He couldn't help himself.

Removing his clawed hand from your hair, Alastor traced the point of his sharp nails down your back - reveling in the hiss that forced its way through your clenched jaw - to wrap around the curve of your ass, his other hand on your hip joining it on the opposite cheek. With a harsh squeeze followed by an equally hard slap, Alastor began to guide your lower body in sync with his own. Foreheads still pressed together, his eyes were locked with yours as both of you were nearing another release. "Yes, just like that! Don't stop!" He groaned, forcing your hips up and down, the sinful drag of his cock driving you mad.

"Gonna cum in this tight little pussy! M'gonna fill you up!" He promised, hips becoming more erratic as he chased that wonderful high - one he could never get anywhere else. Lifting your head just enough to look down between your bodies, salivating at the way his cock disappeared inside you. It was only for a second, but it was enough for Alastor to smack your ass once more, his other hand coming back up to grab a fistful of your hair and direct your gaze back to his face. "Look at me!" He demanded. The blissful sting of his hand pulling your hair made you clench around him even harder, if that was even possible.

"C-c'mon Al, give it to me!" You cried, heart racing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, splitting you in half on his cock. "Pound that pussy-! Nnghh-ohfuck, fuck! Harder Al! Pound my little pussy!" You continued to babble, your mind beginning to go numb as your mouth fell open in the perfect 'oh!' shape. You looked so beautiful like that, it was almost enough to make Alastor cum right then and there, but he held on. It was knowing that he was responsible for the ecstasy coursing through your veins that did it for him; your begging and your expression was tugging at what little restraint he had left.

Reaching up to pull his fingers from your hair, you lifted your upper body so that you were in an upright position once more - his hands returning to your ass cheeks, using them as leverage to bring you down harder and harder with each thrust. "Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't fucking stop!" Alastor commanded through clenched teeth, pounding up into you while watching your tits bounce in time with his movements. "Cum on my fucking cock! Do it, cum with me!"

You had wanted to drag this out a little bit longer, but the way Alastor was pounding into you at such an inhuman pace, your were nearly at your peak (as was he). Alastor watched your hand go straight for that little button in between your folds, rubbing harsh circles against it with the pads of your fingers. "That's it, that's it! Good fucking girl!" He praised you, his own mouth falling open at the sight before him. Arching your back slightly and throwing your head back, you clenched your eyes shut - a drawn out moan so lewd it could make a pornstar blush (Angel) coming from your throat. Your thighs quivered violently, unable to hold the pace any longer as your orgasm crashed over you like you had just stepped under the Niagra Falls - your fluids squirting onto his lower abdomen and dripping down his sides onto the sheets below, a small amount even pooling in the crevice of his navel.

Alastor struggled as the vice grip your heated mound had on his shaft made it damn near impossible to move; but he prevailed, fucking you through your release while chasing his own. His cock twitched inside you as he watched your eyes roll back into your skull, his hips stuttering as he felt the first few ropes of his seed shoot into you. "M'cumming, m'cumming! Fucking-holy-! ... Oh my ffffuuu-!" Alastor shouted, this orgasm hitting him particularly harder than the rest. His shoulders came off the bed as his upperbody jerked forward slightly from the force of his orgasm, his own thighs quaking as he tried to keep his pace, determined to fuck you both through your individual highs straight into overstimulation.

Eventually his thrusts slowed and you removed your hand from that little bundle of nerves, placing both of your hands on his knees as you leaned back slightly, supporting your own weight on them. Your entire body would twitch and your hips would jerk away whenever the tufts of his pubic hair brushed against your swollen clit. Your chest heaved as you tried to come down from your high, but Alastor's shallow thrusts were making it difficult. "A-Al... baby please-" you tried to beg, but it was no use. You knew Alastor was deaf to the world the first few seconds after his release, so you could do naught but try to ride it out. But this time was proving to be more difficult than the rest.

Attempting to lift yourself off of his cock, you barely made it an inch when one of Alastor's tentacles wrapped around your waist, forcing you back down onto his still rock hard, drooling cock. "Ala-... Wha- Alastor?!" You cried out in shock, the overstimulation becoming almost painful as he forced your hips to grind back and forth with his hands. Your whole body was going to be covered in bruises and hickies come morning, and that thought alone had Alastor ready for another round. Grabbing hold of his forearms, you tried to get him to let go. "Al- just give me a secon-nah! Nngh! F-fuck!" But it was futile, as in the next moment you found yourself lying flat on your back in the same spot he once rested, his claws wrapped around the underside of your thighs and pushing them up against your chest - his dick not leaving your core for a single second.

"Oh darling... I'm no where NEAR done with you!"

I was wobbling so hard when I went to go grab a drink after this-- I fuckinh FELL. I FELL BECAUSE OF THIS POST.

ALSO WE HAVE A REVEAL SOON? I LITERALLY GONNA CRY-- OH MY GOSH I CAN'T WAIT??? AND GIFS, PICTURES, ACCOMPANYING THIS STUFF??? Phew. Guys, hold me up, HOLD ME UP

*Post Read*

F-First of all... how are you reading my mind? 🥴🥴🥴 Literally so many k-kinks in one post... the hair pulling? 😩💦 the nails? 😩💦 grabbing ass and using it as leverage? 😩💦 The commands/forcing us to look? 😩💦 Good Girl? 😩💦 Overstim when his legs are giving out??? 😩💦😩💦😩💦 HHHHHHHHH MINK AND HAZEL I FEEL LIKE MAKING A WHOLE ASS ESSAY ON THIS

S-Second... HOW? How do you write this stuff and not pass out? I'm clutching my pearls, I'm staring at the ceiling, and my legs are twitching. My throat is dry, my voice is groggy from waking up, but I want to SCREAM.

I- I can't IMAGINE how you must feel when you write this???? JFC?

I don't think you've realized what you've done 😩💦 You have rights to my estate, you have my soul, you have my crops, fuck it, you can have my cat Nugget when I die from the heart attack I'm about to have--

UGHN!! AAAAAAAA SO GOOD SO GOOD SO GOOD. BARK BARK BARK

If no one has told you today: you're so fucking awesome. And you deserve to have your mind blown and turned to mush from being dicked down 😩💦

☄️❤️Anon I fucking LOVE YOU. 😭💗

@hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely ....what's worse? THERE'S ALREADY A SECOND PART IN MY INBOX!!! SEND THE POLICE. IM GONNA NEED A WELLFARE CHECK

We wish you a Merry Smutmus, and a Happy Nude Year!

(Gif below was my exact reaction, when I woke up screaming to this post)

[seralyra]

Fic idea I had at the start of Secret Life that didn't age well:

Grian joined the Watchers after leaving Evo for a time as a way to de-stress. Watching is much less hard work than creating, after all. But his urge to be active, play and meddle in a much more direct way brought him back to being a Player.

Or at least part time Player. He still has his Eyes everywhere. He wants to see what his friends are up to when he's not with them, after all. Nosy boy that he is. He tends to come "home" to watch every now and again, catching up with the other Watchers.

The Watchers love watching him in turn, especially the little death games he's hosting every now and again. But just watching... well if you're invested in a show as much as the Watchers have been, someday just watching just isn't enough. Also Grian has been a bad influence on them.

Grian isn't all too sure he should allow a bunch of otherworldly beings to directly interfere with his games. He knows exactly how well that had worked on Evo. Although back there he hadn't been one of them and he hadn't been the one to host the games.

But whenever he comes to visit his weird family to watch and relax, they keep pestering him. And eventually his resolve crumbles.

The Secret Keeper is his solution to keep his Players safe from the Watchers more... aggressive... playstyle. Through the Secret Keeper they can affect the game without breaking it. And Grian, being the admin, can do damage control by bending the rules to fit everyones best interest.

What he didn't account for was the Watchers ulterior motives. They'd seen Scar and Grian dance around each other in circles for too long at this point. And they were determined to do something about it.

First point of the agenda: Get BigB out of the picture and make him dig a hole.

Second point... okay they got a bit distracted with the whole Mumbo and Grian dynamic. Those two were just the funniest people together, who could blame them?

Third... profits? They were still working it out. But they would get there. If Grian liked it or not.

On a more meta note and to explain my made up concept:

I always liked the interpretation of the Watchers as a representation for the audience. We meddle. We can be kind and cruel. Some of us are the ultimate backseat gamers. But most importantly: We are fluid.

A lot of the audience doesn't just watch. We also create and play. We switch roles. Sometimes we are Watchers. Other times we are Players.

We can't enter all the universes directly, of course. The Hermitcraft servers. The Traffic Life servers. Those are glass bubbles for us to look into and yell at. But even if we can't enter them we can usually affect them from the outside.

The Secret Keeper is our way of getting into the Life Series this season. Grian explicitly told us to come up with tasks, making us the Watchers.

And thus the Watchers in this take aren't (always) cruel and don't force Grian to just watch. They can be forceful and demanding, but in the end, they are fond of Grian and don't want to actively harm him.

It's more of the other way around! Grian is different from them in the sense that he was a Player first and a Watcher second. And he's been slowly showing them the joy of creating on their own. They've dabbled in meddling, of course. But they usually were very passive when they weren't busy keeping worlds running.

But now? Now they really wanna play, too.

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

It’s me, your favorite prompts blog!

I know you’ve written depression before. Can I have a short story where Peter is struggling with high-functioning depression? On the outside everything looks normal. On the inside, he feels like crap.

And Tony notices Peter’s not himself anymore

Mini Fic #4 for this round is here! (and prompts are still open! If you have something you would like to see me write in less than 1k, send me an ask! Anon or otherwise) This hurt/comfort prompt was tricky to squeeze into so few words, but I managed it! Thanks for sending in the idea @itsmechara426!

Not Alone 811 Words

Peter wasn’t sure when it had happened. But at some point he’d realized his days were nothing more than an elaborate performance. The banter, the jokes, even the pop culture references were all meticulously crafted performances meant to shroud the weighty emotions that had settled so deeply within him. He carried them all around in the back of his head. Buried deeply behind the pleasant facade he’d grown so accustomed to. He didn’t want to burden anyone with what was surely a personal matter. Not his friends, not his aunt, and especially not Mr. Stark.

Mr. Stark was a busy man. He had responsibilities pouring in from every aspect of his life. Stark Industries needed his intellect, Pepper needed her partner, and the world needed Iron Man. Peter understood this and always made a point of not demanding too much Mr. Stark’s time. He didn’t ask about lab days or seek advice. There was no reason for him to be selfish. Mr. Stark didn’t owe him anything, least of all his time. So, despite his longing for a few additional hours spent in his mentor’s presence. He kept his mouth clamped up tight.

Peter sighed, taking a seat at the edge of an abandoned building to take in the view. Mr. Stark’s number popped up on his HUD. He considered ignoring it, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. If Mr. Stark wanted to talk to him, then Mr. Stark would talk to him.

As expected, the call was pushed through after three rings. “Hey, Kiddo. I’ve got some time this afternoon. Want to stop by and fine-tune that new web-fluid you’ve been messing with?”

“Uh, Yeah, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, plastering a fake smile across his face. “That sounds awesome.”

A look crossed Mr. Stark face. But it was so fleeting that Peter didn’t have a chance to decipher it. If he were to guess, he’d say it was concern. But that didn’t make any sense. Despite the misery swirling in his chest, he was acting out an expected enthusiasm with the practiced ease of a habitual liar. He batted the suspicion away, writing it off as a mild case of paranoia.

As he entered the lab, he made sure to add a skip to his step. He offered an exuberant greeting, bolted across the room and began pulling chemical components out of the cabinet without having to be asked.

Mr. Stark joined him at the workbench, reviewed the formula and provided a few suggestions. Peter nodded along and started mixing. It felt like a typical lab day until Mr. Stark casually shifted the subject miles way from chemical bonding.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

Peter blinked, doing his best to remain upbeat and neutral. “Of course.”

“I mean about more than just science,” Mr. Stark said. He sounded frustrated but his face and tone relayed nothing but gentle concern. “I can tell you’ve not been yourself recently, and I’d really like to know what’s going on.”

“I- It’s nothing, Mr. Stark.” Peter swallowed, struggling to determine an answer that suited his act “Just- Personal stuff.”

To Peter’s relief, Mr. Stark didn’t press. He placed a gentle hand on the back of his neck and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Well, if you ever decide you do want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”

Hesitantly, Peter considered the offer. He waffled greatly between not wanting to be a nuisance and a surprising desire to open up to Mr. Stark. Although he struggled to see how it would help. Negativity had a tendency to be contagious, and he didn’t want to be the contaminant. He glanced up, his wary eyes meeting Mr. Stark’s worried ones. He suddenly felt compelled to say something. Anything to ease the building tension.

“Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on. Not really. Sometimes I just- I feel like I’m drowning,” he tentatively explained. It already felt like too much. He snapped his mouth shut and mumbled. .”The last thing I want to do is to drag you down with me.”

Mr. Stark’s expression softened. “You wouldn't be dragging me anywhere, Buddy. I’m ready to jump in willingly, life raft in hand.” He smiled sadly. “You don’t have to go through this alone, Buddy. I’m here for you.”

Not feeling obligated to handle everything on his own sounded wonderful. He wanted to follow through, open his mouth and let all the words come tumbling out. But he managed to choke them back. He wasn’t certain he was prepared for that. Instead, he leaned into Mr. Stark, initiating a rare hug. ”Thanks, Mr. Stark,'' he murmured. “But I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it just yet.”

“That's fine, Bud.” Mr. Stark turned his head, kissing the side or Peter’s head in the process. “But when you are. I’m right here.”

[tatiablack]

THE BLACK VOLUME OF THE DEAD

CHAPTER TWO

*This chapter is dedicated to @starchaserdreams 💕💕*

PARIS

A low growl echoed through the room, accompanied by the sound of flesh against stone. The trio quickly realized that they were not alone. A shadowy figure stood at the entrance, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

"That's not good," Barty muttered, his grip firm on his seraph blade.

Regulus took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. "We need to get out of  here."

The demon advanced towards them, its movements effortless and fluid. Evan quickly stepped in front of the others,

"I’ll handle it," he said, his voice steady despite the fear that coursed through him. "We have to protect this guy,"

As Regulus watched Evan engage the demon with his Seraph blade, he couldn't help but wonder about the Shadowhunter's connection to all of this. questions swirled in Regulus's mind as he joined the fight, his seraph blade flashing in the dim light of the hotel.

With a chorus of bone-chilling roars, the Ravenor Demon manifested before them - a monstrous abomination, Its wings unfurled to blot out the moon, casting twisted shadows that seemed to writhe and coil like malevolent serpents. Eyes ablaze with unholy hunger fixed upon its prey, it let out a deafening growl that shook the very foundations of the cursed hotel.

Without hesitation, the two Shadowhunters locked eyes and nodded in silent agreement before springing into action. In perfect synchrony, they launched themselves towards the demon, their blades gleaming with deadly intent. With lightning-fast movements, Regulus lunged forward, his sword aimed at the heart of the demon. But the Ravenor was no mere opponent; with a swipe of its clawed hand, it sent him flying backward with a sickening thud.

Seizing the opportunity, Evan swiftly attacked from the flank, his blade a blur as it sliced through the air. But the demon was swift and agile, easily dodging his strike with a flick of its powerful tail. The force of its blow sent Evan crashing into a nearby pillar, leaving him dazed and disoriented.

Amidst the chaos and violence, Barty found himself in a situation that felt like a particularly bad day in the Paris Institute. There, lying like a discarded noodle on the ground, was the mysterious wounded Shadowhunter. Barty, ever the unintentional klutz, didn't realize he'd let the poor guy tumble unceremoniously to the floor. Classic Barty move, really—distracted by Evan. It happened more often than he'd like to admit.

"Now is not the time," Barty muttered to himself, channeling his inner voice of reason, which sounded suspiciously like his mother's nagging.

Dragging the fallen Shadowhunter along like a sack of potatoes, Barty made a beeline for the secret wooden door. Ah, yes, that secret entry Julia, the vampire with a penchant for mischief, had shown him. For... reasons. But hey, Barty wasn't about to question a vampire's motives. Who was he to judge?

As soon as Barty stumbled out, Regulus and Evan followed suit, shutting the door behind them with a resounding thud. Barty wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling equal parts relieved and exhausted.

 "Got rid of it?" he asked Evan, casting a wary glance around the deserted alley.

Evan nodded grimly. "By the angel, how could vampires summon that?"

"It wasn't them, this makes no sense," Regulus wheezed, barely able to catch his breath. His eyes flicked to the unconscious Shadowhunter lying at their feet. "We need to get him to the Institute. He might know something."

Both Evan and Barty nodded in agreement, but then Barty, ever the comic relief, had to open his mouth again. "So, who's gonna carry him?" he asked, looking between Regulus and Evan with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Both Shadowhunters turned to stare at Barty, unamused expressions etched on their faces.

"What? I carried him out," Barty protested, feigning innocence.

"So?" Evan raised an eyebrow.

"So, I'm not carrying him again," Barty declared with a stubborn tilt of his chin.

Regulus let out an exasperated sigh. Of course, Bart would pull something like this. It was moments like these that made Regulus seriously question the sanity of his Friend. But with a resigned shake of his head, he knew there was no use arguing with Barty when he got this way. Sometimes, you just had to roll with the punches—literally, in this case.

*****************************

you can find the full chapter on Ao3 here TatiaBlack

thank you all so so much, don't forget to like and repost💕

[tiniedemon]

WEASLEY TWINS . . . kenny mccormick / reader

movie nights as a friend group were usually a hit or miss. there was always popcorn, snacks, sodas, juices, all taking up table space on kyle’s dining room table. he had the largest house out of the four of you, so it only made sense to hold them there.

tonight’s movie of choice was weeks in the making, the final harry potter movie having finished a few moments beforehand. you and kyle had already seen them, the both of you having been raised on the books and the movies coming out. one of your core childhood memories was going to see the sorcerer’s stone in the cinema when it had just come out.

“what did you guys think?” you asked, practically vibrating with excitement. kenny, your boyfriend of six years, slid his hand into yours, his palm flattened and fingers curled to brush your knuckles.

“in my very, very humble opinion, harry potter reigns superior to all other books and movies,” kyle drawled. it was quite obvious he was an avid lover of the series, seeing as he spent every harry potter movie night clad in his ravenclaw quidditch jersey, the horcrux locket hung from his neck and a lightning bolt scar drawn on his forehead in liquid eyeliner.

you were no better, sporting your house’s tie and matching scarf around your neck, sirius black’s wand replica held tightly in your free hand through the entire series. it was clear which characters were your favorite, sirius’s wand and the locket associated with regulus black being key indicators of both yours and kyle’s favorite pureblood brothers.

“honestly,” stan started, a pair of empty framed round glasses perched on his nose and a hufflepuff sweater wrapped around his top half. “i didn’t entirely hate it. maybe you guys aren’t all that delusional for obsessing over it.”

you roll your eyes, leaning forward to grasp the handle of your mug of butterbeer settled on the coffee table. you and kyle had spent years perfecting your real-life rendition of butterbeer, down to the consistency of the fluid and the fluffiness of the foam. in your very humble opinion, it was perfect. it left the perfect foam mustache, slid down your throat easily, and when spiked with a neutral rum, it was the perfect party beverage.

“of course we aren’t delusional, stan. there’s a reason harry potter has such a big fanbase.” you pause, your mug hiding your smile as you prepared to sip from it. “you should see the amount of ridiculous fanfictions about it. i only wish there were more sirius fanfictions out there.”

“there are fanfictions?” stan practically squeaked, looking rapidly between you and kyle. kyle gave a roll of his eyes, fingering the soft fabric of his handmade ravenclaw quilt.

“of course there are fanfictions, stan, but that’s not important right now. did you just say there isn’t enough sirius fanfiction? he’s got loads. the real travesty is the lack of regulus fics that don’t involve fucking james potter,” kyle spoke, eyebrows furrowed. you rolled your eyes, settled your mug back on the table, and fully leaned into your silent boyfriend.

“kyle, darling, as a moony kin i am absolutely devastated that my moody pureblood doesn’t have as much content as, say, draco malfoy.”

“draco‘s got fanfiction?” kenny asked, finally joining in your conversation. you shot him a disgusted look, curling up your top lip and scrunching your face.

“you like draco?” you asked, highly judgemental in tone. kenny rolled his eyes, pressed a kiss to your cheekbone.

“we all have a type, love. mine just so happens to be beautiful, judgemental people,” he mumbled into your temple, a frown on your lips from the backhanded compliment.

“if it’s any consolation, my favorite pureblood is bill weasley,” stan speaks up, drawing your attention to him.

“that honestly makes sense,” kyle drawled, fidgeting with the tv remote.

“wait,” you interject, a smile on your face. “which harry potter characters would we all be?”

there was a round of silence as you all mulled it over, your question for once taken deadly seriously.

“honestly, you and kenny are very remus and sirius. maybe the weasley twins, in a totally not-creepy-or-incest way,” kyle spoke. you gave a victorious smile, kenny reaching around for a fist bump that you indulged him in.

“kyle, i feel like you’re a mix of hermione and ginny. you’ve got, like, the intelligence of hermione and the snarkiness of ginny,” stan hummed, tossing a grin towards the ginger huddled on the couch. kyle seemed pleased, his eyebrows lifting as he acknowledged the statement.

“stan is so snape. he’s got the brooding ass attitude and the hidden romance for his best friend,” kenny mused, laughing boisterously at stan’s pink cheeks and scowl.

“i am always so nice to you,” stan whined. “and you’re always such a fucking asshole to me.”

“i’m just telling it like it is,” kenny defended, raising both his hands to protest his innocence.

“i changed my mind,” kyle hummed. “kenny, you’re draco. you’re an asshole and you don’t feel bad for it.”

kenny guffawed, looking to you for support. you shrugged your shoulders, giggling at the betrayal unfolding before your very eyes.

“i can’t defend you if they’re right,” you said through giggles. kenny huffed, blowing a few hairs away from his face. you pressed a kiss to the pout on his lips and leaned into him, knowing that by the time you got home, he’d have completely forgotten the events that transpired that night.

movie night was a disaster, as it usually was, but at least you could walk away knowing you were a weasley twin. in your books, that was an absolute fucking success.

[reslari]

Every Great One Loses Its Child and Yearns for a Surrogate Mother

So here I was watching one of the dozens of Bloodborne lore analysis/plot breakdown videos I’ve seen in my life, when the producer of the video made an offhanded comment that lodged firmly within my brain and got my thoughts running a thousand miles an hour. It’s funny, in all the videos and text lore posts I’ve seen, I can not recall anyone positing that the “surrogate” may be referring to a surrogate mother. Oh, I know there is someone out there that’s said it before, I am hardly trying to take credit for the idea, but I thought I’d do a little thought experiment of what it could potentially mean that the term “a surrogate” refers to a surrogate mother.

Now, of course, the obvious answer to why most people don’t think of it that way is because the item description specifically references children: Every Great One loses its child, and yearns for a surrogate. The context informs you that it’s talking about a surrogate child.

But what if it’s not?

Every Great One loses its child and yearns for a surrogate (mother).

Every Great One loses its child. They’re beings of a higher plane of existence, with nebulous physical forms. Some of them don’t even exist in physical form at all (that we know of), so it makes a sort of sense: They can’t carry a child to term. Their bodies aren’t built for it anymore. Maybe they never really were. So the mundane, physical, even bestial idea of pregnancy is beneath such beings and their dreamy ascended plane.

Yet, even still, they yearn for children.

So they look back to the plane they left behind, the plane they once inhabited and bred with the Pthumerians upon, and they find the humans. They’re fertile, they’re tied to the waking, physical world, and, most importantly: they’re trying to make contact.

I recall once that Miyazaki said in an interview that the implication of the Great Ones is that the more advanced a civilization is, the lower the birth rate. What is more advanced than the very Great Ones? But this seems contradictory: If their society is so advanced that they no longer feel the need to reproduce, why then would “every” Great One lose its child and yearn for another? Why do they even care?

Unless they’re simply not capable of reproducing anymore on their own, despite wanting to. The higher plane they ascended to cannot support the creation of new life. The changes to their bodies preclude them from having these children. Their nigh-on immortality means there is no reason for them to want successors or children to carry on their legacies or family bloodlines, and yet, they yearn for that which they cannot have anymore regardless. Such a simple thing, as well: While there is variance in individual members, reproduction is an extremely common occurrence everywhere in the waking world, and is typically easy to do.

Great Ones are too advanced for simple asexual reproduction: They’re far more than single-cell organisms, so they can’t just clone themselves into a second being. Further, even if they were able to form a zygote without input from a second member of their species, they’d still need to form eggs or a placenta - to create amniotic fluid, the sea within - to nurture the growing fetus until it is ready to join the world, and that’s where they’re getting stuck. They cannot nurture these children.

But the humans have great fecundity, comparatively, and there are a number of them trying to contact the Great Ones. Just like the Pthumerians before, they’re perfectly suited to carry these children the Great Ones want to term.

Whether the humans want to, or not. 

I’ve seen some arguments going around the internet lately - and I’m sure it’s not a new argument, but it’s had some time in the limelight in previous weeks - about pushing to outlaw surrogacy, because it is commodifying women’s bodies. Consider that connection to the game, as the Great Ones use the humans for their own wants. Not even a need - after all, as I said, there is no reason for the Great Ones to even want to reproduce in the first place, the typical “ensuring the survival of a species by its continuation” instinct shouldn’t even apply here. Yet want to they do. They yearn for children. And they yearn for the people who can carry them, because they cannot any longer. It may as well be surrogacy tourism, to an entirely other plane of existence.

In exchange? The Great Ones have no use for traditional currency, so they can only guess what the humans would want in turn. Maybe they don’t care about that, either, but their mark does come in the form of wisdom, knowledge, the “Eldritch Truth”. Wisdom that the vast majority of humans cannot even understand or fathom, because they’re such “lesser” creatures than the Great Ones, and they don’t even speak the Great Ones’ language. Wisdom they’ll tear themselves apart over the interpretation of because multiple different schools of thought are going to pop up over the scraps the Great Ones leave behind.

What of the humans that don’t even want their bodies used in such a way?

That’s what makes this even more horrifying: I don’t think the Great Ones even care. They can hardly communicate with the humans. All the humans in Yharnam seem to want to contact the Great Ones, and there are some that find it wonderful, find it an honor. More, in fact, than ones that don’t. To the Great Ones, it likely seems the conditions of their exchange are universally accepted, even if that is far from the truth. Then, we are left with situations like Annalise and Imposter Iosefka actively welcoming a pregnancy by a Great One, but Arianna actively abhorring it.

So let us Teal Deer a longwinded explanation of how this can be applied:

Kos was pregnant when she was found washed up on the shore, or killed, and it doesn’t really matter where one stands on this idea. We know for a fact that the huge, skeletal, YEEEOW-ing creature we fight as a boss is a projection, or a form that the enraged Orphan wanted to take, not its actual body, given solidity by the Nightmare. When you kill it, the real form is the shadowy embryo-like being floating over the corpse of Kos. Only when that is slain does the Nightmare Slain message play and you get the message about the, “Sweet child of Kos, returned to the ocean...”

It’s easy to extrapolate, then, that the baby was never part of a viable pregnancy. Perhaps it did die alongside Kos when she died, but if every Great One loses its child then it was never going to be properly born. Perhaps, generously, you could say that it ended up like Mergo, a consciousness in a Nightmare Realm without a body. It certainly was never allowed to properly develop into a full being, all it could do was emulate the physical forms of the creatures that took it from its mother. Perhaps this means that Kos died before her baby did, even if the pregnancy was never going to be able to finish, and in this particular exchange the child did survive in a capacity it may never have been able to before. Kos’ life for her orphan.

But what of Mergo?

Mergo only exists in that Nightmare realm, too. The Yharnam Stone that you get for defeating Queen Yharnam in the chalice dungeons is, ostensibly, a crystallized fetus, encased in solidified blood. We know of Queen Yharnam as Mergo’s mother, so does it not follow that the solidified fetus is Mergo’s form itself? And its formless, voice-only existence in the Nightmare is not just a marker of possible parentage by Oedon, but also a possible indicator that it died, which means the process of using a human (or humanoid) being as a surrogate wasn’t going to work 100% of the time. Yet, it survived in enough of a form to be worth kidnapping. As long as the Great One reaches the “embryo” development stage, it seems, the Great Ones can begin to construct their own higher realm of existence, but if they died at this early stage, it seems they can only partially construct it.

Mergo and Kos' orphan are unborn, as well. You are in the nightmares of the unborn, in 2/3 of Bloodborne’s Nightmare stages, with the Nightmare Frontier (frontier, of course, meaning border) separating the two unborn Great Ones’ Nightmares from each other, held in place by a border guardian: An Amygdala. (Amygdalae are, after all, the Great Ones through which your Hunter passes in order to access two of the Nightmare realms. It makes sense they exist to sit on the border between Waking World and Nightmare, and between the various Nightmares to keep the consciousnesses from interfering with each other).

When the Moon Presence descends from the sky, what is the first thing it does? It wraps itself around your character and presses its face into your hunter’s stomach. Now, it is easy to assume that Great Ones can’t immediately tell the difference between male and female humans, between which humans could potentially bear a child for them, and which cannot, or, perhaps, that the Great Ones don’t even care to make that distinction. Still, the way the Moon Presence shoves its head into your hunters’ stomach was always rather peculiar, as though it is trying to either “bless” your hunters’ belly with child, or checking to make sure that your hunter is not pregnant (regardless of if they are even capable or not). The Moon Presence certainly isn’t going to be bearing any children - it’s a spine wrapped in meat, with the ribs poking out. It has nowhere to even hold a baby to gestate. Clearly, your hunter isn’t much able to, either, because in the end, they’re either held in stasis in the Dream, or being touched within and without by the Great Ones turns them into a slug. Or, well, what if...?

Let’s talk about some of the Kin, shall we?

We know Rom was made the way she is because of Kos, since Micolash won’t shut up about it. Given the comments made about Rom by the development team, we can presume Rom was, as a human, female. But we need look no further than the fact Rom is surrounded by spiderlings. They bear a passing resemblance, at least in the face, to the Byrgenwerth Spider herself. But if Rom has children - where did they come from? Or, to be most precise, who impregnated her?

Instead of answering that question immediately, let us talk about Ebrietas. In the Orphanage of Upper Cathedral Ward are all those celestial larvae. They have wing-like appendages that are reminiscent of Ebrietas’ wings, and they’re all turned toward the Cathedral, underneath which is Ebrietas, as though trying to see or reach out to her. Now, if those Celestial Larvae are her children directly, then she would likely not be a full Great One, and only merely a kin; supported by the fact she drops Kin Coldblood. After all every Great One loses its child. But Arianna gives birth to one of them, too, so it could very well be that some of the women of Yharnam gave birth to them and they’re attracted to Ebrietas for other reasons.

One of those reasons could reasonably be that, say, Ebrietas was their Great One parent. More of a “father” than a mother, as little as those words really mean in the biology of breeding with Great Ones. We know the Choir was using Ebrietas for their experiments into ascension, and it could also be reasonably argued that her blood was cut in with Oedon’s for blood therapy and treatments. That could give her easy access to ensuring someone like Arianna’s womb developed a Great One child. One that was hers. You also see her bent over the Altar of Despair, grieving, apparently, a body that looks suspiciously like Rom’s. In this scenario, there’s more than a small argument to be made that Rom’s pregnancy is from contact with Ebrietas. 

Yet, if you ascribe to the idea that Ebrietas is kin, rather than a full Great One, it paints an even bleaker picture. Ebrietas was ascended from a “lesser” being, was left behind when the rest of the Great Ones ascended, and now exists to bear children, of which she has had many. Left behind in a realm where conception and birth is possible - the Waking World. Combine this with the number of children that surround Rom, and... well...

What if the ascension to Kin (at least, of the ones who were blessed by the Great Ones, and not created like the Celestial Emissaries) is either caused by or done because they are used to carry Great One children to term?

In this bleak scenario, Rom and Ebrietas both are essentially broodmares for the Great Ones. Ebrietas likely for Oedon, and Rom? Rom could be for Oedon as well, but we don’t know how much contact with Oedon’s Old Blood she had - but we do know at least one Great One she was touched by: Kos.

The changes to their bodies could have come because they successfully carried for a Great One, though it’s not guaranteed. While we know that contact with Kos can turn people (and. dogs.) into fish-like creatures, Queen Yharnam was never anything but a Pthumerian (though, again, the rules could be different for the Pthumerians), so it’s not guaranteed. But a human that is continually impregnated, to be a surrogate mother for Great Ones that yearn for children then turning into a Great One by exposure (but not so much of a Great One that they can no longer bear children), who then continues to give the Great Ones the children they want is a horrifying enough fate.

But I can do one worse. I can make all of this even more gruesome:

Parasitism is a very common theme in Bloodborne. In modern medicine, someone who wishes to be a surrogate mother can do so through traditional surrogacy or gestational surrogacy. Traditional surrogacy would be as I described it before: Where the surrogate mother’s own eggs are fertilized and the child is carried to term. Being used for one’s own fecundity to bear a Great One’s child would be an example of the former, generally speaking. Whomever bore the children would be the human half of the infant’s parentage.

But there is a second type: Gestational surrogacy. In modern medicine, this is where In Vitro Fertilization comes into play, and the embryo is implanted into the uterine lining of a surrogate. The baby is not biologically related to the person whom carries it: it is a different couple essentially “borrowing” a fertile surrogate’s womb in order to gestate a child because the original couple cannot bear the child for any number of reasons.

We know Great Ones can, at the very least, conceive children amongst themselves. Kos was pregnant, after all. So Great Ones are capable of breeding and, at the very least, getting through the very first stages of pregnancy.

In the most bleak scenario, what is happening in Yharnam isn’t Great Ones breeding with humans to just make the humans carry their babies because the Great Ones can’t have children -

They’re implanting their own fetuses into the wombs of Yharnamites and forcing them to carry unrelated children to term.

Like wasps laying eggs in tarantulas, except they need not enter through a wound.

It would be easy, as well. Oedon exists within the blood; “formless”, but still existent. Small, abstract enough to transport a fertilized Great One egg, zygote, even a small embryo and transfer it into a Yharnamites’ body. Other Great Ones would have to do it in different ways, but it makes sense this way why Oedon is usually the one pointed at for being the Great One parent for most of the infant Great Ones in the game.

Thinking of it that way, it makes sense why Elden Ring’s Bloodborne callback reference to Oedon is the Formless Mother; Oedon was never actually a "he" as the item descriptions refer. Oedon is just another Great One looking for a hapless mortal to bear the children it desires, but cannot carry.

Every Great One loses its child and yearns for a surrogate, a mother to carry and bear its child because it can no longer gestate. A child it does not even need, but wants anyway, for utterly inscrutable reasons.

Hope that “Eldritch Truth” was worth it.

[maddiviner]

i think it's okay to leave out the UPG disclaimer when someone is acting like their UPG is universally correct. especially when it's as wildly blatantly ahistorical and made-up as the hecate person's (don't remember her username because i IMMEDIATELY blocked her). also when you use your UPG to demand other people practice a certain way

I thought about it a bit after I posted that.

IMHO? None of what she posted counts as unverified personal gnosis. Reason being that UPG is by definition the kinda thing that you can't disprove, exactly. If you're making false claims about objective, known history, that doesn't count. That's just called lying, either to yourself, or other people, sorry.

UPG is also personal. It's one thing if other people find your UPG compelling and join in on their own. It's also, IMHO, appropriate to share it if you're comfortable. If you're trying to force it on other people as the absolute truth, it really stops just being your UPG, and it's a jerk move. This is, obviously, especially true if the claims are ahistorical nonsense (which, again, doesn't count as UPG).

How I view this might piss people off, but I'm going to break down my views. I'm open to discussion of course, but this is just how I use the phrase ("unverified personal gnosis," I mean).

Some different UPG-ish things I've heard over time...

A certain Goddess considers me Her daughter in a spiritual/metaphysical sense. She expects certain things of me.

Humans all contain a lil piece of the Divine. I will work on connecting with that by prayer/meditating/whatever.

Reincarnation is real (or not real).

After death, I will join my loved ones in the Summerlands/etc to rest or something similar.

Everything above is, IMHO, UPG. I say that because it's unfalsifiable and personal. It's not ahistorical, nor does it conflict with physical reality. And, in the situations where I saw the above comments, it wasn't presented as absolute fact.

Some things that definitely don't qualify as UPG for the reasons I've mentioned...

Rather than originally being a Greek Goddess, Hekate was actually Scottish-Irish human woman who was murdered by men. (This was the original claim by the OP, actually.)

Jesus revealed to me in a dream that the earth is actually flat. The truth is being concealed by elite reptilians.

The Christian holiday of Easter connects to the Sumerian Goddess, Ishtar. Ancient pagans worshiped Her in springtime with eggs and bunnies.

I was burned at the stake in Europe as a witch in the 1700s along with the rest of my Wiccan coven. I reincarnated as a witch again.

None of the above is UPG. It's misinformation instead. You can look at historical/scientific sources and prove it's inaccurate.

I found the concept of UPG hard to grasp initially. I think some others do, too. Many of us are coming from or steeped in more organized religions.

I don't think a lot of them, at least in the pervasive American sorta Christianity, have anything like UPG? I mean, I didn't see much of it. So, it's kinda been a new concept for some, and a lot of us have to feel our way around it a bit.

Another thing I wanna add? UPG isn't always healthy or good even if it does quality as UPG. Some ways of thinking about the world just work better, I guess, and that applies across the board. A lot of UPG tends to be very fluid and adaptable, I've noticed, which I think is good.

The Hecate person is kinda funny because she just posted this huge spiel about how she knows she's doing it right now that she has "haters" and called us all ignorant "heathens" (her words) for not accepting her divine truth straight from God's Hekate's mouth.

The idea of someone who claims to be pagan using "heathen" as an insult is just... weird. I know there's probably some kinda discourse around the word but... still.

Someone I talk with on Facebook commented that it's weirdly Protestant?! Similar to how Jesus gets portrayed. You've got a divine being that was, uhhh, actually from a completely different culture being portrayed as Scottish/Irish, Greek roots being erased. Said divine being was somehow also incarnated as a human, and martyred? And then we have a prophet, too! Sounds super similar to me, too, now that I start to think about it in those terms, but I didn't notice before.

[countlessrealities]

Send a 💋 for a short drabble on a time our muses kissed || Selectively accepting !

@mcltiples sent: 💋 { To Evil Rick from My Weird Rick ! }

There were many things Rick didn't understand of the shows his partner had him sitting through whenever he didn't feel like watching them on his own. Almost everything relating to relationships, romantic ones especially, puzzled him, because he could never relate to the dynamics. No matter how much researching he did, no matter how deeply he dissected them. They never fully made sense.

And, as a consequence, copying the motions felt unpleasantly unnatural to him.

Yet, that hadn't stopped him from trying over and over. The moment he had understood how much his alternate enjoyed that nonsense, he had directed a decent amount of time and effort in providing the other with at least some of it. At times, forcing himself wasn't easy because of how tedious or foolish it all was in his eyes, but he had quickly come up with a way to make it all less obnoxious for him: he had started to put his own spin in the scenarios, adding the sort of flavour he could enjoy despite the absurdity of the situation.

Of course, seeing that his partner enjoyed his adaptation had spurred him on getting creative with them.

Lately, he had noticed one particular recurring scene in many of the movies his alternate so assiduously consumed. Yet another thing that made no sense to Rick, but that seemed worth the trouble...if done how he was picturing it. Besides, there was a new prototype of nano-explosive he wanted to test.

It was the perfect chance to catch two birds with one stone.

The plan was easily set in motion while his partner was occupied in another room of the bunker, busy enough for Rick to be sure that he wouldn't come out before he was done.

The text subject he had procused for that particular occasion was appropriate for what he had in mind: an alien belonging to a species whose members were mostly made of fluids and gelatinous tissues.

Strapping it on the ceiling after having paralysed it so that it wouldn't make a sound was easy. Calculating the right amount of explosive to inject inside it, instead, was a little trickier and Rick checked his calculations thrice before proceeding. The smallest mistake could have ruined the whole set-up.

When his alternate joined him, just as he knew the other would have, everything was ready. Rick had come to stand underneath his chosen guinea pig and, once his partner was within arm's reach, he didn't hesitate a split second to grab him by the front of his jacket and yank him forward.

His other hand hit the button of the small remote control he was holding and the moment thick blood and cold pieces of organic matter started to rain down on them, he pulled the other into a kiss.

The gesture was as sloppy as the mess the exploding creature had made, with all too much biting and too little kissing, the taste of his alternate's blood mixing with the alien fluids on his tongue. His grip on the other's clothes was too tight, forcing them too stiffly close for them to achieve the right angle, but that didn't stop him from holding them there until the last drop had fallen.

By the end of it, they were both soaked from head to toes in blood and gore, which was the result Rick had been aiming to achieve. After all, the characters in the movies always got soggy wet during those scenes, so he had assumed that this was how it was supposed to go.

"K-Kiss in the rain," he announced taking a step back, in a flat tone that certainly didn't convey the right sort of sentiment. "C-Carry on."

And with that, he turned on his heels and headed back to the workbench were a bunch of unfinished toxins were waiting for him. One task achieved, onto the next.

[archoniluthradanar]

Demetri and his Accidental Mate

This is in response to a request by @kpopgirlbtssvt

It is an anniversary date, one special for guard and tracker Demetri, since it involves the day he joined the Volturi. Aro and his brothers decide appreciation is in order for all the work he has done for the coven. His skills as a tracker are formidable, and he had proven his worth many times over. So as a reward, Demetri would be given an extra meal ticket, so to speak. It was going to be a surprise though. A pair of young humans in their prime. One man and one woman were taken to his room by Felix and Santiago. They complied mutely, unsure what was going to happen. Felix locked the door as soon as the couple were thrown into the room, leaving a short note on Demetri's door, saying, Happy Anniversary, Demetri, from your Volturi family.

As soon as Demetri had returned from a short mission and had finished reporting to an oddly quiet Aro, he found himself happy to be going to his room for some much-needed peace and quiet. Before he had even reached his room, he heard pounding coming from inside his door. Someone was in his room, and yet sounded desperate to get out.

Irate that someone should have accidently gotten themselves locked in his personal quarters, Demetri unlocked the door and pushed it open. Inside, he was surprised to find two cowering figures moving slowly away from the door. One sniff told him they were human. His throat began to burn with the thirst. It had only been a week since the coven had feasted, yet he was hungry. Then he remembered the note. Of course, these humans were a gift from the masters. Then he must enjoy the pair to honour their gift to him.

Approaching the man, Demetri inhaled deeply and knew how pure his blood was. No illegal drugs, no medicinals, no disease. A perfect specimen to slake his thirst. His eyes darkened when he grabbed the man by the throat, pulling him closer. Venom filled his mouth as his thirst grew, but his meal would not be offered immortality. Death would be his fate.

Demetri moved faster than could be seen by either human, his teeth latching on the man's throat. Warm blood filled his mouth, his neck muscles gulping down the rich fluid. As his thirst was being quenched, Demetri made note of the female watching them.

The woman who had been locked in with his male victim saw the attack and screamed, her mind unable to reconcile what was happening. Demetri drained the man and let his body fall to the floor. He turned to the screaming woman, who had run to the re-locked door, pulling on the handle in a futile effort to escape. She gazed at the man with black eyes coming toward her. Fear permeated her entire being, when she saw blood on the tall blonde's lips.

She held out her hands and shook her head as she backed up. "No, please, don't."

Demetri was at her side in a flash, his left hand wound within her long hair, tugging her head to the side. His right hand ripped her sleeve away from her shoulder, baring the soft skin to his eyes and his mouth. He bit hard, sucking the warm red fluid as it filled his mouth. Like the man, her blood was pure of any foul taste. She struggled in his arms at first but that slowed as she weakened.

Suddenly Demetri felt sick, his mind rebelling against his thirst. He pulled away from the woman, feeling a pain in his chest. He looked down at her, sensing a growing attachment he could not explain. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. He was about to lick the wound on her neck to close it so that it would heal, but he saw his venom was already in her body. Demetri knew her existence was in a state of flux, his venom doing the job of making her organs obsolete and transforming her body into that of a vampire. An immortal. His mate.

Demetri slipped her underneath the blankets on his bed and sat beside her. She was pretty, with long light-brown hair. He hadn't noticed her eyes, not that it mattered. They would turn red soon enough. Her lips were full and dark pink. He felt himself drawn to them, but it was the tug in his chest, the need to have her with him that bewildered him. He had not been looking for a mate, but was that even his choice.

While he was thinking, the woman began to stir, moans coming from her parted lips. Demetri knew the pain that would follow. He quickly kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket, and went to lie beside her. He would be there to hold her while she endured the change.

As her cries grew louder, he hugged her, whispering in her ear, assuring her he would be there for her. He came to the realization she was his mate and accepted that. She was his to cherish and love. He only had to wait until she woke, then he would explain everything to her.

Moans turned to cries, cries turned to screams. There was nothing to be done but for Demetri to wait. And he did. He was eager to see the woman turned so he could speak with her, tell her about her new existence, and how they belonged together.

A few days later, the woman awoke. She looked up to see the man who had killed her friend standing over her...and she screamed.

Demetri, shocked, attempted to calm her down. But she would not stop screaming... until suddenly, she did, going completely silent. She backed into a corner in the room and cowered as she sunk down to the floor.

"I'm Demetri. Please, you don't have to fear me." He leaned down to take her hand, but she shrunk away from him. "Look, I have to go take care of something. It's safer if you stay here. I'll be right back." He flashed to the door, locking it behind as he left.

The woman rose and ran to the door, bumping into it when she finds she can't stop in time. What just happened, she wonders. She grabbed the door ring and pulled on it, the door slightly tearing off its hinges. Again, she is confused. Demetri arrived just as she is about to pull the door off its hinges completely. He has an unconscious human in his arms.

Setting the body on the floor, he holds out his hand to the frightened newborn. "This is for you, my love. You must feed. Can you feel the burning in your throat?"

Seeing her slowly nod her head encourages Demetri. At least she understands him. She comes to stand by him but doesn't let him touch her. He shows her what to do by kneeling on the floor and lifting the unconscious person, turns his head and bites him. The woman needs no more encouragement than that. She bites the man's throat and begins to swallow his spurting blood, until there is nothing left. She wipes blood from her mouth and licks it off her hand.

"Do you need anything else?" Demetri asks.

She shook her head, still standing feet away from the vampire talking to her.

"Is there anything you want then?" He looks at her torn shirt. "New clothes maybe?"

She looks down and frowns, then looks up at Demetri and nods.

He flashes to his desk and brings her a pencil and pad. "Here, write down anything you want, anything. Then we'll talk. I promise, I won't hurt you," he says. When she finishes the list, he takes the pad from her and reads the list. Books, magazines, a TV or DVD player with some videos. Lastly she wanted a stuffed animal or two. A dog or cat, monkey or lion, she didn't care. Just something to hug. Of course she didn't know Demetri would have wanted to be the thing she hugged.

When Demetri saw the request for candy on the pad, he told her, "I'm sorry, you can't eat this kind of food anymore. I'll explain later." Demetri called Chelsea on his cell, asking her to come to his room. He gave his friend the list and some money, and thanked her for doing the shopping.

"Now come here and sit beside me." She sat at the far opposite side of his sofa, watching him carefully. "What is your name?"

"Carolyn. And you're Demetri."

He smiled at her. "Yes, that's right. You see, you've changed, Carolyn. You're not...human anymore. You're like me now. A vampire."

She began to laugh, then realized she had killed a man. "You did this to me."

"I did, but I didn't know what you would be to me. I stopped drinking from you but it was too late. You were already being changed."

"So...I'm a vampire too?" She saw him nod and thought that explained the odd things happening to her.

"And worse," Demetri said, smiling awkwardly "you're my mate. My wife, in human terms."

She slouched on the sofa, wanting to cry, but realized no tears were coming.

He tried to make her outlook seem better. "As long as you're here, you can have anything your heart desires. Look, let me show you around the castle. You can see it's just an ordinary place where our coven exists. It's our home and it will be your home too." He held out his hand to her, which she took tentatively, and followed Demetri out of his room.

He showed her the garden first, the places she could sit and enjoy being outdoors. "You must be careful not to be seen by humans in sunlight." He should her his hand, which was now sparkling as the sunlight illuminated his skin. He smiled when she reached out to touch him, that mere touch causing his body to shudder slightly.

Demetri then took her back indoors to show her the audience hall, the throne room, the secretaries' area, and the library. He explained the hierarchy. She had obviously not met the masters yet.

He spent the next few days getting her acclimated to life in the castle. He introduced her to his best friend Felix, and the other more important guards. He cautioned her about the lower-level guards, both new and less vital guards. Although she was a vampire, she was new herself, might not be seen as welcome yet.

One day, while Demetri was off on a short mission for the coven, Carolyn wandered the halls, learning to get her bearings. The castle was huge inside due to the lower-level floors unseen by humans outside. She ran into a group of guards she didn't recognize, who surrounded her. Their smiles looked more like leers, as they reached out to touch or push her.

"This must be the newborn Demetri created by accident." Gossip traveled within the castle quickly. "She's pretty, but doesn't seem to have much newborn strength. See how scared she looks."

"Demetri got himself a good one alright," one said while laughing at Carolyn.

Then out of nowhere, a flash appeared and began to tear the arms and heads from the four delinquents. No warning, just final death.

Carolyn backed against the wall, shaking her head and looking quite frightened. When Demetri was done destroying her assailants, he frowned, seeing fear in her expression. But then she ran toward him and hugged him, kissing his cheek.

"Thank you, Demetri, oh thank you. I didn't know what to do. If you hadn't shown up..." She hugged him tighter, making him feel happy. So simple an emotion, but it gave light to his immortal soul to know she wasn't afraid of him anymore.

His hand cupped her cheek, and he leaned in to kiss her lips gently. "You're my mate, Carolyn, and I'm yours. Your life will be more important to me than my own."

"We'll learn to love each other?" she asked, so innocent, since Demetri was the first man she'd felt anything for.

"We will," he replied literally grinning. "Come, my sweet, Heidi will be here soon with our next meal. If you need anything, I will be there with you."

Carolyn didn't know how long it would take for her to get used to being a vampire, but with this man, her new love at her side, she wouldn't be alone in her new existence. Taking his hand, she followed him to the throne room close beside him.

[rankpup8]

WWDITS 4x07: Pine Barrens – Translation for the Spanish dialogue

As a preface I’d like to say that my qualifications for this is that, well, I’m Mexican, Spanish is my first language and I’m fluid in English (if you excuse the accent, anyway). I might be overexplaining a few things, or missing a few words, but I think it's ok, most of the Spanish bits were filler.

7:04

Guillermo: Welcome, come in! Thank you! Come on in. (Welcome, come! Thank you! Onwards)  

One of the women (not sure which): Be careful!

Cousin Miguel: A lot of trash, eh?

Guillermo: Don’t worry about the cameras, I hired to record… Grandma’s birthday! Happy birthday!

Grandma: Ay, mijo, always so considerate! (I’m not sure here, could’ve said “mi niño”, meaning my boy. Mijo’s literal translation is “my son” but it’s a shortened termed of endearment for someone’s child, regardless of age).

Guillermo: The jackets, take them off, take them off, it’s your home.

8:15

Guillermo: […] there’s thorns […]

Miguel: More trash

Guillermo: Here we are

Silvia: It’s so pretty, right mom?

(Guillermo says something here that I don’t understand)

Guillermo:  Well, welcome!

Grandma: Look at these plates, how luxurious! They gave you promotion at the Panera, or what?

Silvia: No, mom, he works at the railroad, remember. (Literally, she really said he works at the train)

Miguel: No, no, no, you know what, homie?

Grandma: Let’s start eating, boys.

12:13

Silvia: She’s your girlfriend, no?

Guillermo: Uhhh, yes, yes.

12:50

Silvia: Nadja, join us.

Aunt: Please.

Miguel: She called you shitbag?

Grandma: Guillermo, can you show me where is the bathroom?

Guillermo: Yes, it’s just around the corner.

(This part does have subtitles mostly, Guillermo just says “oh, yes, of course”)

18:46

Grandma: You are a monster and you must die! Cursed bloodsucking demon, get away from my grandson!

Miguel: […] demon, grab her!

Grandma: Cursed, cursed! (Can also be translated as damned, I believe)

Either Silvia or the aunt: Kill her!

The women yell “Demon!” a bunch here.

Grandma: Guillermo, she’s a dangerous monster, evil!

20: 31

(After Guillermo comes out) Silvia: A mom knows, a mom knows.

Guillermo: Everyone?

Miguel: Family is family, homie.

Guillermo: Aw, mami, thank you, thank you.

///////////////

Alright, that's about, can I just say what a top tier episode this was? Loved the Spanish, I wonder exactly where Guillermo's family is from, if the Grandma was born in Mexico I can't really place her accent, although it might have lessened over the years.

On another note, I didn't catch the name of the Aunt, but she did say Miguel's name right at the start as they came in through the door and he pointed out the trash. My guess is that Silvia and the Aunt are sisters, both daughters of Abuelita de la Cruz.

I do wonder if there's more family that couldn't make it, it feels like they're missing characters (which makes sense, it's a short episode, they can't get the 6 cousins and 12 sobrinos or whatever), but I guess Guillermo didn't make it clear that it was a dinner for their Grandma's birthday (a lie he clearly made on the spot) so maybe they couldn't make it.

[melishade]

Z-King: Awesome idea for Terran, makes you wonder how Founder Ymir feels about the Engeron involved in the titans and titan shifters. Also looks like Gabi got the short end of the stick with the Starscream AU.

Gabi’s death in the Revenge Timeline

How energon affects the Paths...is a bit of spoilers for Attack on Prime, so I won't elaborate for now.

And of course Gabi would get herself killed in one of these timelines that I have for Attack on Prime. Gabi is a very foolish character. She's impulsive, reckless, arrogant, and many of her own actions have nearly gotten herself killed, or have gotten someone else killed.

Example 1: Her introduction

Gabi literally offers to throw herself in danger to take out the armored train. She succeeds, but five seconds later, a soldier she didn’t kill, is trying to shoot her down with a machine gun.

Example 2: The Liberio Attack

Yes emotions were running high and there was chaos all around. But Gabi made the impulsive decision to try and join the fight. She gets stopped by the two guards at the interment zone, and as they are distracted, they get shot down by Sasha trying to tell Gabi to leave.

Example 3: Assassin’s Bullet

Gabi had no real reason to jump onto the blimp other than an emotional one. She was going on a suicide mission based on anger and grief, and yes she did kill someone, but if Falco was not there, she would have died. She only lived because Falco cared enough to follow and tackle her out the way.

Example 4: The Pitchfork at the Farm

Gabi and Falco are on the run, and Kaya states that she knows that the both of them are from Marley. Instead of trying to think rationally, and is instead flying off the handle, she tries to stab Kaya with a pitchfork! And Falco has to stop her. First of all, she’s outnumbered, and secondly, she’s a fugitive. If Gabi somehow managed to successfully kill Kaya, she would have been given the death penalty at that point because she killed an unarmed, civilian, child. On top of that, Mr. Blause, who is a hunter, may have shot her dead.

Example 5: The restaurant incident

The biggest example of Gabi being impulsive and reckless. Yes, Gabi and Falco go to Niccolo and ask for help, but when Niccolo realizes that Gabi is the one who kills Sasha, Gabi doesn’t shut her mouth. She keeps running her mouth, proudly stating that she killed Sasha. This causes Niccolo to fly off the handle and now Falco has to save her from getting hit with the wine bottle. But because she didn’t shut up, Niccolo lays her sins to bare before Sasha’s family, he holds Falco hostage and almost kills him, and Gabi keeps talking and insulting Sasha, which almost results in Kaya stabbing her in the head with a knife! But even after that, it’s too late now, because Falco is now infected with Zeke’s spinal fluid. All because Gabi did not think for once brief second.

Now you could argue that Gabi is a child. She was brainwashed. She didn’t know any better. Fair argument. However! You know who also was a child that was brainwashed and in theory shouldn’t know any better: Falco. Falco was in the exact same situation as Gabi, if not worse because he and his brother were forced to become warriors or get turned into titans. Falco knew when to read the room! Falco knew when to not put himself in danger! Falco knew when to keep his mouth shut when the situation called for it! The only reason he’s in a terrible situation in the first place is because he cares too much for Gabi.

So it would make absolute sense that Gabi would get herself killed in an Attack on Prime AU timeline, especially by someone like Starscream. Because Gabi is not picking anything up, she’s flying off the handle trying to prove a point and be right, that she is pissing someone off that has been through emotional, physical, verbal, psychological trauma by the same person that she’s talking about, along with his dislike for humans being the cherry on top.

Shockwave was running on logic, which is why she’s still alive in the Dark Timeline. Starscream was running on emotion, which is why Gabi died in the Revenge Timeline.

[skeletinmoss]

The curse of the dark Phoenix

Chapter 4: A legend’s childhood

First | Previous | Next

Roman was alerted to the hour having passed by Virgil’s shadow blocking the shine of one of his lights while the Great Mage was trying to read a scroll Logan had deemed interesting.

He jumped up in surprise.

“Hm, a tracking spell huh? That could be useful if it hadn’t been fifty years,” Virgil mused.

Roman looked down and back up. He’d been trying to make sense of these scribbles for the past ten minutes and Virgil saw it upside down in bad light… Upside…

Roman turned the scroll around. Oh. Now it made more sense, though a tracking spell still wouldn’t be his first guess.

“Thanks,” he muttered a bit frustrated.

“You are growing tired,” Virgil observed. “Put the papers away. It’s time to have a proper talk,” Virgil suggested stepping towards the desk and settling down on the floor in front of it with one fluid motion.

“That goes for you two to,” he called to Logan and Patton.

After exchanging a look among the three of them, Patton and Roman went to sit down in front of Virgil, Logan joining them reluctantly. Patton took up the middle, Roman the right and Logan the left.

“Right. Guess I should say sorry about waltzing in and just kind of… not explaining anything really. So… I guess each of you ask a question and then I ask one. Flowerboy can tell you if I’m speaking the truth,” Virgil assured them.

“What do you mean?” Roman asked surprised.

“Roman, don’t let him make you waste a question,” Logan chided.

“It is a good question though. Considering he clearly didn’t cast the bond on purpose,” Virgil mused. That got everyone’s attention, making the mage smirk amused.

“When you freed me, did you use magic on my ashes, any kind?” Virgil asked.

“I um… Got some on my hand and tried to get it off,” Roman recalled. “Sorry about that by the way. I kind of feel weird about it now that you turn out to um… reassemble yourself,” he offered.

Virgil waved him off and nodded as if that explained everything. “That would do it. No worries though. The bond isn’t strong as far as I can tell. So no summoning one another in times of crises, or feeling each other’s pain. That’d be annoying. But I’m sure you noticed you could more or less understand me while I was in my other form,” Virgil explained.

“Yeah, I guess? Still not sure what a magic bond is though. And summon each other… That is something that could happen?” Roman asked, only realizing after that that was another question. Virgil didn’t correct him though. He looked at him surprised and then at the others to see if Roman was the only one confused. He was not.

“You don’t know what a magic bond is?” he asked astonished.

They all shook their heads.

“That’s… We used to cast minor ones on friendship bracelets back in the academy. You guys never made magic friendship bracelets?”

Patton let out a gasp. “I want magic friendship bracelets…” he whispered as if he’d just learned about the greatest thing ever. And to Patton magic friendship bracelets were probably just that.

Virgil let out a long sigh. “Magic bonds tie our magic together. They can be undone of course, but that requires either a ruinous breach of trust or a ritual that’s more trouble than it would be to keep the bond you cast in place.

Like I said, you’ll just be in tune with my emotions and I with yours. It’s an equal exchange and will last for the rest of our lives. So I’ll know if you try to poison me. But I also knew that you were genuinely concerned for my wellbeing when you kept me away from the herbs,” Virgil explained.

“That sounds kind of romantic,” Patton awed.

Virgil shrugged. “There have been mages who entered relationships who bound themselves to their life partner,” he agreed making Roman blush. Now he really felt like he’d done something inappropriate. But he couldn’t really apologize for that in front of the others.

“Now, sunshine, your turn,” Virgil offered.

Patton shifted nervously. “Um, first… Sorry about the… ahm… I just love animals and ah…”

Virgil made a dismissive gesture. “You didn’t know. Though even if I was a real Phoenix, that wasn’t a smart move. They are proud creatures,” he advised.

Patton nodded. “Yes… Thanks… And ahm… How do you make magic friendship bracelets?” he asked much to Logan’s annoyance. “We don’t have time to get sidetracked like this,” he chided.

“It’s alright,” Virgil said soothingly before turning to Patton.

“Basically you weave a bracelet together, letting a little bit of your magic flow into it. The natural oil on your fingers will function as the binding agent for your magics and depending on how much you put into it the spell is stronger. When it’s in bracelet form you can choose to take it off and it doesn’t last as long as when you form the bond with someone directly which is why our teachers allowed us to do it in the first place. The magic can last from anywhere form a week to a few months depending on your focus while making them,” Virgil explained before turning to Logan. “So. Let’s see what the smart guy wants to know?” Virgil wondered intrigued.

Well, Roman was curious too. Considering Logan had made a big deal about their questions being irrelevant.

Logan frowned and seemed to think it through for a moment. “Why did you prioritize… Educating us, over finding your friends or figuring out who stabbed you?” Logan asked.

Virgil nodded. “Good point. Well, I’d had some time to observe you, I couldn’t do much in my guidance form and I haven’t managed to switch at will all day. I was starting to worry I was stuck that way. You can’t imagine the feeling when I realized the lock on my form seemed to weaken with the setting sun. Though I can’t turn back right now either…” Virgil seemed frustrated by that.

“In any case. I observed you three working today and using magic and well…

Imagine you are a painter, you’ve seen your fair share of artists and then you see some guys who you can just tell are bursting with talent. But they settle down to work on something and they blindfold themselves and pick up a pencil with their bad hand and struggle to draw a circle. They are good circles. But…” Virgil made a face.

“So I’ve been mentally cringing while seeing you three stumble through today while handicapping yourselves. This little course correction was the very least I could do. Hopefully you guys figure the rest out going forward,” Virgil shrugged.

“And this does not count towards the favor you said you owe us?” Logan pointed out, probably trying to test out how Virgil would handle follow up questions when he was not taken by surprise by an apparently common spell going out of fashion the past… however long it had been since Virgil attended the academy.

“No. If I owe you a favor it would be rude of me to pick what it is I do for you. Giving you three some pointers was more for my piece of mind. You still have the favor,” Virgil assured them.

“I suppose it is your turn,” Logan allowed apprehensively.

They all were rather curious what this mage would want to know first.

“Okay… Well how old are you three exactly?” Virgil asked.

That… Would not have been the first thing Roman asked in his position. He didn’t think.

“I am the oldest. I am 28,” Logan said weightily.

“You are only a few months older than us Logan,” Roman pointed out.

“Aw, you guys are babies,” Virgil coed.

“We are adults!” Roman protested.

Virgil cocked his head. “Actual adults or adults by technicality?” he wondered. “Not being mean I’m just not sure anymore… It’s been a while since I was 28, if you couldn’t tell,” he offered.

That was a good point.

“Um… You are a minor until you are 18,” Patton offered.

“Hm… I guess maturing for a decade after that would be enough to count as an adult,” Virgil allowed before turning to Roman expectantly. Right. More questions. This time he perhaps should ask something about Virgil.

Otherwise Logan might actually hit him with one of his books.

“We told you our specializations. What is yours?”

Virgil quirked a brow. “To be perfectly clear, I’ve practiced every magic ten times over by now. But I started out as an herbalist, like you,” Virgil explained, then he made a face like a memory struck him.

“It was kind of annoying. Didn’t matter how many healing spells I improved on or the fact that I came up with the revitalization meditation. It didn’t count towards my Great Wizard exam. Remus and Janus had done their thing already and I was just sat there with ten new spells that didn’t count. Coming up with self cleaning fabric was such a relief,” Virgil sighed.

The three Great Mages exchanged looks. “Did I say something?” Virgil wondered as he caught it.

Roman bit his lip, not sure how the older mage would react. “What’s a Great Wizard?” he asked.

Virgil’s eyes widened in surprise, again. “That… Explains so much actually…” he said before explaining himself. “When I was on the road to being a mage, you could earn the title of Great Wizard by creating your own spell. It was not mandatory but it came recommended and me and my friends decided to go big or go home.

It was a good way to learn to understand magic and the properties of ingredients in practice. I suppose they scrapped it for some reason and now I get why you guys are so by the book. You were never encouraged to step out of what was written were you?” he realized. It was phrased as a question, but it seemed like more of the rhetorical kind.

“Ahm… Mister Virgil,” Patton said carefully. “What did you mean with ‘guidance form’? I mean I know you meant the phoenix but…”

Virgil sighed. “Wasting this round on what used to be common knowledge I see. Not your fault, by the way.

When you guys connected with your magic to become Great Mages, you saw it take the shape of a magical creature right?” Virgil verified. The trio nodded.

“Well, to become High Mages. You get a lot better at magic under the guidance of that creature and then after some more meditating and stuff, you will become one with it. Allowing you to take on some of it’s traits and even take its form. In my case, the dark phoenix,” he explained.

Roman felt his eyes widen. That… But that was so dangerous… it was forbidden… But there was something in Roman’s heart that was set ablaze at the thought. If Virgil felt any remaining horror at his reveal, he didn’t mention it.

“Whoever put me in the box, also went through the trouble to mess with my transformation abilities. If I can find my friends I’m pretty sure I can make a remedy. With some trial and error… Bringing it back to you smart guy. Make it a good one,” Virgil said.

Logan thought for a long moment.

“You cleared the skies earlier without any aid from ritual or herbs. How did you do that?” he asked.

“You mean you are a diviner and didn’t even learn that? That’s the first thing diviners are supposed to learn so they can have an unobstructed view of the stars when they need it. These weren’t even rainclouds. Why would I need any sort of boost or guidance to shoo them along?” Virgil scoffed.

Logan just nodded. Roman got a feeling that Virgil had just told him more than just that he didn’t think it was that impressive.

“My turn. What are your guidance animals? Considering you now know mine that seems fair,” Virgil smirked.

Roman frowned. He hadn’t asked anything about the past fifty years or what they were doing in this tower. Which was what they’d expected him to be the most curious about.

Instead his questions were so… Like getting to know new friends… Was that it? Were they being vetted to see if they could help him on his quest to save his friends from their prisons?

Was he going to offer his aid in finding The Arch Mage in exchange?

Roman didn’t think he was lying when he said he just couldn’t watch them do spells incorrectly without helping, but maybe he also wanted them to be ready to help him on his journey.

Aside from Virgil was a High Mage. Those haven’t been seen since the dark magic plague. And if his friends were High Mages too… Surely Logan and Patton would agree it was important to save them.

Chances of finding the Arch mage alive (though Roman no longer thought they were entirely zero given who was sat in front of them) were slim. But if they could find not one, but three mages who had long forgotten knowledge and the power to step up and fill the void he left behind…

At the very least they should be convinced about the dangers of black magic.

The stories of the Night Flame Mage always depicted him as a good guy. He had helped found Sanlow by turning away a grave beast and putting a protective spell in place that lasted to this day. And he never came to collect a reward. Other than showing up for a jubilee party it seemed. Those weren’t the actions of a bad person… Virgil didn’t even seem to expect any sort of praise or gratitude from Roman considering he probably wouldn’t have been born if Virgil hadn’t given his ancestors a safe haven to raise his grandfather.

Roman was pulled from his thoughts by Logan clearing his throat nervously.

“Mine is the white unicorn,” he admitted a bit embarrassed. Logan had been teased about it by other mages, to which Roman and Patton happily reminded them that they didn’t even know theirs because they hadn’t been able to finish the ritual.

Virgil though, simply nodded in approval. “The guide of those with a curious heart,” he surmised. Logan scoffed. “Do not mock my intelligence!” he insisted.

The High Mage cocked his head. “I did not. I said you were curious,” he pointed out.

Logan rolled his eyes. “It’s childish and unprofessional,” he bit.

That upset Virgil. “If you truly believe that then maybe you deserve to have your intelligence mocked. You just rejected your kin! Curiosity is the birth of knowledge. You should know that Unicorns are the second smartest guide out of all of them. Second only to dragons who, as you should definitely know, tend to only appear to those of royal lineage,” he stated in a way that reminded Roman of their instructors whenever they’d made a grave mistake. Logan had never been on the receiving end of one of those rants before though.

Roman and Patton looked at Logan, wondering how he’d respond.

He seemed taken aback, but thoughtful...

“I see… I’ll take that in consideration,” he agreed.

Virgil seemed to calm down at that and turned to Patton. “Your turn,” he said, trying to go back to non-threateningly, but there was still an edge to his voice.

“Um, mine’s a jackalope,” Patton said a little bashful.

Virgil immediately softened. “The playful spirit. Your friends will appreciate your love for joy when things get though,” he assured their fighter.

Then Virgil turned to Roman expectantly. Roman couldn’t quite meet his eyes though.

“Ahm… I’m… I’m a phoenix too. Though mine didn’t look like yours. It was, white and gold and red,” he recalled.

Virgil nodded. “A light phoenix. Like all phoenixes they are enduring, inclined to those who chose to heal and mend and to many a symbol of hope. But more than the other variants, the light phoenix is known for unmatched bravery. The dark phoenix is more associated with loyalty,” he cited.

Roman blushed. He remembered meeting his guide. It wasn’t that long ago after all.

Meditating for so long had been maddening, but he’d been determined to make it. To be there for his friends on the journey to solve the mystery.

And then he’d seen a light in the darkness he’d created by closing his eyes.

He'd moved towards it, finding himself not physically moving, but still making progress.

And then there’d been a flame in front of him. It was hot and bright and he could feel pure power emanating from it. And there’d been something inside it. He knew the fire might burn him. But he also known that if he didn’t retrieve what was at the flame’s source, this journey was for nothing.

And so he’d taken a breath and reached inside. It had burned, but not as painful as he thought it would. His fingers closed around the something at the heart of the flame and pulled back. It was an egg…

Then the egg hatched and a blazing inferno burst from it, Roman had fallen back -much like he had earlier that day- and looked up at the gorgeous creature forming from the blaze.

It had landed in front of him and inspected him. Roman had stood up and faced judgment. Pass or fail, he’d face this. He’d come too far to turn back…

The bird had let out a cry and for a moment, Roman had felt as though every secret magic had to offer was presented to him if he wished it.

Part of him had wanted to accept, consequences be damned. But he’d shown restraint. Not yet, he’d insisted. Not ready.

For a moment he’d worried that this was a final test and he had failed. But instead of rejecting him, his guide had approached him and nuzzled him in comfort. He’d felt… He had felt like they were filled with sorrow for him.

When he opened his eyes, back in the meditation room where he’d been undergoing the ritual that hadn’t been performed in five decades, he found his face wet with tears, but a gentle burning in his heart. And he knew that his guide was ready to aid him when he was ready.

Roman wondered if Virgil felt that same burning. Or if it was different since he and his guide were one… That sounded like something truly amazing to Roman. Though he knew it was a dangerous want, he wanted it all the same.

“Thanks,” Roman smiled.

“Just citing the book of guidance,” Virgil pointed out. “But that brings the question back to you. What do you want to know birdie?” he asked teasingly. Roman didn’t take it as an insult considering he wasn’t the one who’d spent most of their acquaintanceship so far as an actual avian.

Roman thought about it. They’d danced around it. Assuming Virgil would bring it up. But this was their quest. So it should be them who took this first step.

“Do you remember a man called Gustav Noctora?” he asked. Patton and Logan both turned their heads towards Virgil expectantly.

Virgil blinked a few times… And then snorted.

“Don’t tell me… He’s the one who has you all call him ‘arch mage’? That’s so him…” Virgil laughed. Roman wasn’t sure if this was good news.

Virgil stopped laughing and observed Roman, feeling how his reaction affected him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t judge,” he acknowledged. I hadn’t seen him in a decade before I went under so he might’ve done some impressive stuff. It’s just… Hard to unsee the kid he was when we first met at school,” he explained.

“You taught him?” Logan wondered, interested in the line of conversation.

“I mean… In a sense? But I wasn’t a teacher. He and I were in the same class,” Virgil specified.

That… They needed a moment.

“So he was unkillable too?” Patton gushed excitedly.

Virgil nodded. “Yeah, he did the ritual,” he confirmed. Though Roman got the strange sense that he was holding something back.

“What do you know about him?” Roman pressed.

Virgil pursed his lips. “He started out as an alchemist. He got frustrated whenever he didn’t get something right away. He got it eventually. But he had… High expectations of himself,” he recalled.

“He wasn’t very socially skilled. Not when we were at school at least. He got better at it later in life. So like I said. Don’t let my memory of him at his worst be any indicator,” Virgil insisted.

“You are holding back,” Roman pointed out.

The Dark Phoenix Mage sighed. “I guess, I am. Listen. I get you guys are super excited about finding him. But at least when it came to me… Especially at school, but also later on… I didn’t like him. He had a bad habit of trying to put my friends down and expect me to laugh at his ‘joke’. It irked me. Like I said, he wasn’t good at peopling. But he could’ve changed for the better after graduation for all I know.

In short. I knew Gustav Noctora, he was a jerk I wanted as little to do with as possible. But the guy I knew is pre Arch Mage shenanigans,” he explained. Roman nodded in understanding. Virgil had tried not to upset them by dunking on their hero despite his personal dislike for him.

He wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t a little disappointed to hear about this side to his hero. But no one was perfect. And like Virgil said, the Arch Mage might’ve grown out of whatever he was struggling with as a child.

“Do you maybe, know if he might’ve had another home? Somewhere not known by everyone?” Patton asked.

Virgil thought on that for a bit. “I mean… It’s not unusual. Janus has a fancy tower and a cottage that’s a bit more low key… I think Guss mentioned something secluded during our last conversation… Hidden among ruins. I wasn’t paying super close attention at the time…” Virgil admitted.

Logan frowned. “Ruins… This would be sixty years ago then, yes? You mentioned you two hadn’t seen each other in a decade,” he recalled.

Virgil nodded. “Come to think of it, that was the longest I’d gone without at least getting some kind of message from him… directly at least. He did come up in a few conversations. He’d apparently been traveling a lot and gathering a ton of rare and hard to achieve materials last I heard,” he recalled.

That was honestly a relief to hear. That sounded a bit more in line with what they’d known of The Arch Mage.

Logan hummed, deep in thought.

“Not sure if it would help, but Gustav was a bit neurotic about taking notes. He always carried some kind of notebook with him. So there’s probably a few journals around here that will tell you exactly what he was up to before disappearing,” Virgil offered.

“Yes, that would help. Thank you. One more thing. You didn’t know what we were here for or who this tower belonged to when you reformed, yet you saved us a lot of work. How and why?” Logan asked.

“Honestly, that was for my benefit. I was looking for anything useful. As for how. I let my guide lead me. And before you give me a heart attack by asking how I’m just going to assume you don’t know. It’s an instinct. The way migratory birds know when to fly south and such,” Virgil surmised before getting up and summoning the scrolls he’d picked out earlier, which Logan had put to the side during their own search, towards him.

“Hm…” he mused as he unrolled them. “There’s layers of protection on this… I could probably whip something up or divine it… Don’t have the time though…” Virgil decided, putting the scroll back and rummaging to the box of herbs Roman really wished he would leave alone.

“Okay… Final question for me,” Virgil stated as he turned back to Roman with his selection of illegal herbs. “Why do you get a heart attack every time I come near these?” he asked, waving the bundle of slow and painful death.

“Because. They are forbidden. Using them risks damaging yourself. It’s dark magic!” Roman insisted.

Virgil just rolled his eyes and turned to the desk to prepare the dried herbs.

“Dark magic is all in the way you use it. Curses are dark magic. Remus learned that the hard way when he picked a fight with Gustav at graduation,” Virgil mused. Okay… What? Roman needed more context please.

“Magic is a two way street, always,” he continued as he turned around, rubbing the herbs between his fingers. “If you use it to hurt others it hurts you. If you use it to protect, to help or just to do some cool shit cuz it’s fun, it will embrace you,” he stated, tracing a pattern in the air that left Roman breathless. He had always thought that spellcasting looked pretty. But never before had it looked breath taking.

Virgil’s eyes started to glow and he released his spell, and a phantom of a phoenix swept through the room and then down the stairs.

Virgil looked around before heading downstairs without a word.

Roman looked at his friends a bit bewildered. Logan frowned and got up, prompting Roman and Patton to follow suit. They headed down and found Virgil had gone to the Arch Mage’s sleeping quarters and had moved the bed.

Roman would have protested, but he saw Virgil had found another hidden compartment and had retrieved stacks of journals and was feeling around for any remaining items.

“Found you you little bastard,” Virgil stated triumphantly as he got back up and held a stone in his hand.

The High Mage looked back at them and gestured to the journals.

“These are also protected, but I’m sure Logan can work his way past it. Might be a good exercise in relying on your guide a bit more,” Virgil offered as he got up and took of one of his earrings.

“Like I said, you guys are owed a favor. Don’t waste it on something dumb okay? One favor. When you are in agreement on what you need from me you just say: Virgil Night Flame. I am ready to return what’s yours. And I’ll be there in a second,” he explained as he offered the earring to Roman who just stared at it as everything that just transpired hit him.

“You are leaving?” he asked disappointedly.

Virgil sighed. “Look, you guys are talented. I know I made it clear that I’m not impressed with your education so far, but that has nothing to do with your capabilities. Your guides would not have even appeared before you if you were not ready to be Great Mages.

You don’t need me to decipher the scrolls or the journals or follow whatever clue. I’m sure you’ll make it to the ruins, whichever he meant, and find any clues left behind in there as well.

But I need to see if my friends are okay. Like yesterday. Good luck,” Virgil bid holding out the earring again. Roman’s jaw set stubbornly. “Let us help then,” he insisted.

Virgil blinked a few times in surprise. “Excuse me?”

Roman righted himself stubbornly. “As far as we know you are the only High Mage alive. If the arch mage is dead, the council will look to you for guidance to restore whatever was lost in the plague. I’m still not entirely sure about the herbs and I know you aren’t sold on the plague… So if you start to show symptoms I want to be there to help. We wouldn’t be able to face the council if we found a living High Mage and lost him right away,” Roman insisted.

Virgil looked at him for a long moment. “Fine. But my friends come first. I don’t want to hear any of you complaining about needing to get to the ruins while I’m looking for them,” he warned.

Roman scoffed. “Like finding two more high mages would be considered a waste of time,” he countered. He looked to Logan for confirmation though. Just to be safe.

To his relief, Logan nodded. “Deciphering the scrolls and the journals will take time anyway right? I can do it on the road,” he stated.

“He really can,” Patton giggled. “He’s mastered walking and reading.”

Virgil let out a sigh. “Fine. Guess I’d feel a bit better knowing you guys finished your quest thing safely,” he allowed.

“Good,” Roman nodded. “Where do we start?”