#the line ''Time was my medusa. Time was turning me to stone.“

[chonkymoth]

Loki Laufeyson in Loki, S2E6: Glorious Purpose // Excerpts from Weight: The Myth of Atlas and Hercules by Jeanette Winterson

[thekissofaphrodite]

Heart of Stone

Jessica Parker Kennedy!Medusa X Blind!wife!reader

Summary: Humans after creatures were petrified by her blinding eye, but it seems like Medusa's heart of stone was fixed by a certain someone she calls a wife.

Warning: Flashbacks of Rape and Death of child (I think that's all)

Author's note: Percy Jackson this, Luke Castellan that. I'll take medusa.

——

"You think I'll hold a grudge on you just because you are a daughter of Athena?" Medusa said sweetly as she stared at Annabeth through her veiled hat whilst pouring freshly made lemonade into one of the cups.

Annabeth kept a neutral expression, carefully watching Medusa's movements whilst keeping an eye on grover, who munched happily on one of the snacks.

Medusa watched grover with a smile, barely glancing at percy.

"You like them?" She asked Grover, The Satyr nodded enthusiastically.

"My wife made them." All of the eyes were now on medusa's.

The trio shared a confused glance, Percy and Grover threw Annabeth a 'What the actual hell did she say?' and Annabeth threw back a much confused glance, saying 'I dont know either'

Percy was the first one to break the silence, His head still low as he played with the strawberry cheesecake on his plate with a silver fork.

"Er..Wife? you said...isn't that impossible since you're.. You know..." Medusa chuckled wholeheartedly, Annabeth just rolled her eyes and nudged Grover.

"She's blind.. The gods also punished her a long time ago.." After that statement, the trio immediately turned their heads, curiously sitting down and patiently waiting for a story.

"She was once a beautiful nymph that served Circe... Goddess of Aiaia. She was beautiful, then...Hermes.. The messenger God fell in love with her whilst he was still in a relationship with Circe, She rejected him multiple times, but in desperation he—" Medusa Inhaled sharply, Her fist curling up into a ball in anger, she was hesitating to continue the story.

"He asked Aphrodite to make him a draught so she can sleep with him..and it worked, When Circe found out she was so outraged and jealous that she poured every potion she had into her eyes..Her once beautiful green eyes, and cursed her saying 'You shall never see the light of day, Again' " The story finished, Annabeth, Percy and Grover went silent, Medusa however looked at the demigods, watching for any signs of mercy or pity in their eyes.

Then, the silence was interrupted by someone, behind the door.

"Emmy? I think the food you're making is burnt— I smell brownies— Oh! please tell me you're making them!" You. She were gorgeous, with waist length red hair and pale skin, a line of dark freckles trailing down your breasts and arms. you was wearing a floral dress beautifully. you almost looked like a goddess. If it wasn't for your grey eyes, that was once green that made you less perfect.

Medusa's expressions changed neutrally to cheerful. The trio noticed a pair of ring Medusa and Her wife had.

The blind woman, who was Medusa's wife, had a snake ring on her finger, while medusa had a simple gold ring with an emerald stone.

"We have visitors?" You asked, As Medusa walked towards you and looped her arms with yours.

"They're demigods, Dear" Medusa whispered to your ear, making you frown a little.

"I'll go back to the kitchen. You can handle them, yes?" Medusa nodded, and you a kiss on your cheeks before watching her wife go.

——

It wasn't that long when you heard screams and running footsteps, It was definitely the demigods.

Years after years, you lived with Medusa, The bravest warriors to the most cowardly men had stepped inside your home, and none escaped. Not with her deadly eyes.

But you knew those demigods don't stood a chance.

You stared at the blowing kettle, feeling the heat wash over you as sweat trickled down your neck.

And why should you and medusa hide your capabilities and powers when you two are far more superior?

You remembered it all too well.

Hermes drugged you and forced you into his bed, shamelessly raping you all over again until he's content, Circe in fury punishing you. You begged and explained, You really did...But she never listened.

Circe, Banishing you out of Aiaia... You being pregnant. You giving birth near a cave.. Your baby boy dying... Medusa finding you...

Life was hard.. The Gods gave no mercy and pity. But here you are. Still standing with the woman who saved you.

You heard footsteps coming upstairs. You smiled thinking that your trap might work.

"Do you find everything pleasant?" You whispered sweetly.

there was no response.

But then, someone grabbed you by your long hair and slashed your neck.

Medusa ran as fast as she could when she heard screams, But her heeled sandals failed her.

You were now lying on the ground, blood spurting out of your neck as you tried to gasp for air. Tears poured down your cheeks as you tried to say Medusa's name.

Medusa screamed. A blood curling scream as she fell down and held your body. The wife she had protected all these years. Her wife. Her soul mate. Her one and true love, Dead.

You tried to speak, but no words came out of your mouth. Instead, as you were dying, Your green eyes gained a clearer vision of your wife. Her beautiful face was crying, Snakes hissing as her hair..But you never mind, Her beauty never scared you after all. Her blue eyes looked at yours. As you slip away from consciousness, you can sleep peacefully after taking a look at your blue-eyed beauty.

In the small cottage, Medusa stood up, Your blood staining her hands as she glanced at the trio, She slowly walked towards them, and grinned.

"I don't mind three additional statues filling my home..."

A/N: FIRST MEDUSA FF. HOW DID I DO? I RLLY WANNA ADD TRAGEDY AND LOVE AT THE SAME TIME SO HERE WE ARE! I DO HOPE YOU LIKE EM!!

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

So...hi

I may have decided on a whim to continue Your Scars Are Mine for no reason.

No reason at all. Nope not me.

Why's he gotta be so pretty how dare he

No need to read the previous fic, this one is still a oneshot.

Anyway here it is.

Ten Years

Hurt/Comfort and Smut

NSFW

Trigger Warnings: Trauma, Mentions of Self Harm, Depression

OPLA!Mihawk X AFAB!Reader

Wordcount: 5.2k

♫♬ Medusa in Chains — The Fratellis ♬♫

Before this whole thing began I had some sense of pride

Just one more night with your lips, your company is hard to eclipse

Four days.

Nearly four damned days had passed since you had last ate. Last bathed. Last done so much as dragged yourself out of bed to do more than half-stumble to the bathroom, and Mihawk was growing as impatient as he was concerned. It had been a few weeks since he had brought you to Kuraigana Island, and you had spent a fair amount of time flitting around the castle learning its halls and corridors front to back, dusting corners that even he had forgotten existed.

Then, a few mornings ago, you had simply refused to get out of bed.

Refused to speak as to why.

The warlord had told himself it was fine. That it wasn't as if he wasn't accustomed to having the sprawling stone castle to himself, that he could let whatever was ailing you play out, give you your space to work through it on your own.

But it was clearly doing no good, not to him or you. He had already grown too accustomed to your presence there, and seeing you in your present state was driving him completely mad.

He lingered in the doorway of the bedroom, arms crossed and leaning his shoulder into the doorframe, his eyes scanning slowly over you as you lay there with the sheets pulled up to the nape of your neck and your back to him. He had known you for nearly five months, had deemed to call you his lover for two of them. You did have a tendency toward the silent treatment when you argued, as much as that drove him mad, but this was different. This hadn't come on the crest of any argument, and it clearly ran far deeper than that.

You weren't doing this to get under his skin. That was clear to see, and Mihawk was at a complete loss on how to approach it.

He gave a small growl of annoyance at the sound of his transponder going off in his pocket, digging the thing out and shoving it into his ear as he turned the corner into the hallway outside the bedroom you had all but made your tomb.

"Little busy," he said impatiently. "Make it quick."

The last thing he wanted to deal with now was the goddamned government.

"Oof. That bad, huh?" Mihawk's eyes darted toward the transponder, the pad of his index finger pressed against it to hold it in place as Vice Admiral Garp's gruff brogue went on in his ear. "I figured. How's the kid holding up?"

Mihawk furrowed his eyebrows, and then lifted one if them as he glanced back toward the doorway of the bedroom.

"What are you talking about?" he said slowly. Garp knew something, and the old Marine had an irritating tendency to withhold information.

"Sounds like ya know damn well what I'm talking about, Hawk-Eyes." His jaw set at a rigid angle, gritting his teeth, Mihawk considered for perhaps the thousandth time just pulling the transponder from his ear and tossing it out a window. "Your associate. I'd be willing to bet your old bounty that she's not doing the best right now."

"Is this a business call or are you truly this insistent on wasting my time?"

Mihawk cringed at the sound of Garp's laughter in his ear.

"Little of both," he said, amused. "Word came down to me that my grandson may have formed an alliance with Fire Fist Ace in Arabasta a couple days ago. Around...the thirteenth, I believe. Something I asked you to keep an ear out for personally. And it's not really like you to not know what's going on around the Grand Line."

"As I said, I'm busy," he said through his teeth. Mihawk had no intention of standing around being insulted—particularly not with you in your current state. "My apologies if I haven't been babysitting your grandson closely enough for your liking."

"I can handle my own family affairs," said Garp. The amusement dropped from his tone as he went on. "This is more of a personal call. Your associate. I'm checking in. I imagine this hasn't been a good week for the girl." Mihawk remained silent, his eyes shifting to the open bedroom doorway once again, waiting for Garp to continue. He had no intention of letting on to anyone in a place of authority just how much he had come to care for you—not when they could very easily use it against him, threaten you to gain further control over him. "The sixteenth will mark ten years since the day she witnessed her home destroyed."

And today was the fifteenth.

That put quite a few things into perspective.

Mihawk leaned back against the wall behind him, pinching at the bridge of his nose as a slow sigh left his lungs.

"She's barely moved in three days," he said finally, quietly to ensure his voice didn'treach your ears—if you were even capable of listening right now. "Or spoken."

"Aye, I figured." Garp let out a heavy sigh himself. "I don't like to admit the failures of Marines any more than any other of my comrades, but...what Admiral Vesper did ten years ago was an insult to what we're supposed to stand for. I'd have seen the man executed a thousand times over for it if I could have. It was a goddamned massacre. All but, anyway, since he left her alive. I can't imagine how the poor girl even sleeps at night, honestly."

You didn't sleep well. Mihawk had noticed that from the start. Your hours of unconsciousness were frequently plagued with nightmares that you claimed not to remember, but he was sure you had to remember some of them. He was sure of it from the distance that lingered in your eyes some mornings as you sipped a cup of coffee or tea, from the way you spaced out and barely heard a word anyone spoke to you.

"I would like the coordinates of the island," Mihawk said after several long seconds, still rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

"There's nothing there. Her village was destroyed. It's just a rock in the water at this point."

"I don't care."

He rolled his eyes when Garp gave a snort of laughter—but the man did at least rattle off the coordinates without any hesitation, as if there were a map sitting right in front of him.

"N 22°6'5.3535" by W 159°33'55.7474". I'll give you a minute if you need to write it down."

Mihawk definitely hadn't expected the vice admiral to have the coordinates all but memorized. He sighed, ducking around the corner into the bedroom where you still lay motionless several feet away. He crossed to the desk, and leaned over it, lifting a pen and pressing it to a pad of paper.

"Again," he said shortly, and he quickly noted down the letters and numbers as Garp repeated them. And he added, just as shortly as he set the pen down, "Thank you."

Garp gave a short laugh. "White roses and blue orchids." Mihawk's brow furrowed as he crossed the room, glancing at you before slipping out the door again, ascertaining that you still hadn't moved an inch. "Those were her favorites."

"Sounds as if you were fairly familiar with this pirate."

"Oh, quite a few men were. She wasn't called The Siren for no reason." He sighed, and chuckled a little. "But yeah. I guess I was more familiar with Helena than most."

Mihawk barely had a moment to wrap his head around the connotations of that claim before Garp spoke up again.

"If you're at Kuraigana and you take that eyesore you call a boat, you'll have about a twelve hour trip due East," he went on. "Probably best get going if you plan to make it there tomorrow."

And with that and nothing else, the call ended.

Mihawk pulled the transponder from his ear, staring at it for a moment in mild alarm, before pocketing it again, glancing toward the bedroom door to his right.

Garp was familiar with your grandmother. He couldn't help but wonder whether you were aware of that.

Now wasn't precisely the best time to ask, however. He had to find some way to coax you out of bed, to get you dressed and—

And you had, at some point, rolled onto your other side, so when he entered the room again you were facing him. Your eyes locked onto his as you lay there on the four poster bed with your hand tucked between your cheek and a pillow, and Mihawk stopped abruptly in the doorway.

"We have a job, I take it?"

For a moment, Mihawk remained silent, standing at the threshhold and simply staring at you. This was the first you had spoken in days with the sole exception of the occasional single-word reply. His eyes passed quickly over you—and then he gave a brief nod.

"Yes," he said, crossing the room to the wardrobe at your side of the bed.

He wasn't sure how you would react to the truth of the matter, but he had a sneaking suspicion that you would resist, and he preferred not to even erect that bridge, much less cross it. Ten years had passed and you had gotten absolutely no closure—however much it would hurt, you needed this.

"You'll need to bathe and dress," he said, pulling clothes out for you and setting them across the foot of the bed. "We'll leave within the hour."

You nodded, your eyes shifting away from his as you sat up, letting the covers fall away from you and standing. You were wearing one of his shirts, unbuttoned with nothing but a pair of black panties underneath, and had it not been for your despondent state at the present he wouldn't have been able to resist tearing them off of you and pushing you right back into bed.

Instead, he watched you pick up the clothes he had set out, head into the adjoining bathroom, and close the door quietly behind you.

This wasn't like you. None of it was. Your proneness to dry remarks and comebacks, your snide little smirks that infuriated and enticed him in equal measure—there had been absolutely none of it for days now, and it was getting under his skin like nothing else had in years. He took a seat on the bed, kicking off his boots in mild frustration and reclining back against the headboard, staring at the closed door you had just disappeared through.

Folding his hands over his stomach and listening to the sound of running water at the other side.

Waiting.

Thinking.

It would be both unfair and unsafe, he decided as you emerged from the bathroom several minutes later, not to give you some hint, some clue of his intentions. You were already dressed—at least half dressed, your shirt hanging open over a lacy black bra, a towel hanging around your shoulders to catch the water still beading in your damp hair. You paused in buttoning your shorts, meeting his eyes as he pointed at the edge of the bed next to him.

"Sit," he said, his tone light but commanding—halfway for the sake of observing your reaction.

You would often snap that you weren't a dog, roll your eyes at him, intentionally try to aggitate him; but now you simply sighed a little and did as you were told, taking a seat at the edge of the mattress, your hands resting at either side and your head declined to stare down at your knees.

"Here."

You glanced at him briefly when he held out a hand, and you placed yours in it after a moment. He tugged you down to him, across his chest, curling his other hand in your hair, searching your eyes and your face for anything.

And finding nothing. Not sadness, not anger, just a blank numbness that gave the impression you weren't even there. Despite the weight of your body, despite your forehead resting lightly against his, you were as good as a ghost.

He moved a hand to your waist, and your breath hitched in alarm when he flipped you onto your back, moving both of his hands to yours at either side of your head, entwining his fingers with yours to keep you there—to keep you from bolting, as you were so prone to doing when anything about your past came up.

"Were you planning on telling me what's going on, little one..." said Mihawk, lowering himself to his elbows, his forehead to yours, giving you nowhere to look but his eyes. He moved one hand over, brushing a thumb lightly across your bottom lip, "or do you prefer me hearing it from our Marine friend?"

Your eyes widened just a little at that—and your breath hitched again when he moved his thumb to your cheek and pressed his lips to yours in a brief, deep kiss. It had been days since he had gotten a single taste of you, and your lips were much too tempting to resist.

He felt your grip briefly tighten on his hand before pulling away, close enough that he felt the warmth of your slow, trembling sigh brush across his own lips. "Ten years tomorrow, isn’t it?" he asked quietly.

Your gaze shifted away in an instant, your eyes slipping shut. "It's my problem," you said quietly. "Not yours."

"You wasting away in bed for three days straight makes it very much my problem." You bit your lip for a moment. Swallowed. "We've had this discussion before. And not very long ago." A small shudder crept through you when he released your hand, trailing his fingertips down the length of your left arm, where your white sleeve hid the marks you had put there over the years yourself, marks of defeat. The freshest wound there still had yet to heal fully, and he could feel the bandages wrapped around your arm just above your elbow through the thin material of your shirt. "Hiding things does neither of us any good."

You gave a short nod, your eyes remaining shut, your breathing the slightest bit uneven as his fingertips brushed across your cheek and returned to your hand, slipping between your fingers. "S...sorry," you forced out in a whisper. "It's just...not really..."

"Don't apologize." You opened your eyes at this, meeting his gaze. "But next time something of this magnitude comes up..." A slow sigh left your lips as his brushed at the edge of your jaw, near your ear. "You'll tell me."

You gave another small nod.

"Good girl."

His eyes drifted down your body, your smaller form pinned beneath his, his fingers drifting across the bare strip of skin between the folds of your unbuttoned shirt, brushing over the soft lace at the center of your bra, barely grazing the edge of your breast. In any other circumstance he wouldn't have hesitated for a moment to tear it away from you right that second—but now wasn't the time. As much as he detested not being in control, that had to be on your terms for now.

So he left you with one last slow, deep kiss, his hand moving to wrap around your waist under your shirt and pull you against him for a moment, for as long as he could stand to, before parting from you and standing from the bed.

"Finish getting yourself ready," he said, pulling his own half-buttoned shirt over his head and off and laying it at the edge ofnthe bed. "We'll be traveling for a little over twelve hours, with one stop on the way. The sooner we leave, the better."

You didn't say a word as he crossed the room, dropping the shirt into a hamper by the wardrobe, but he heard you shift on the bed behind him. Heard the matress creek as you rose and crossed the room slowly, your bare feet a whisper against the cold stone floor, stopping just behind him.

He paused in taking down his long overcoat as your arms wrapped around him, your cheek pressed against the back of his shoulder.

"I am sorry," you repeated quietly. "I...I didn't know it would be this..." Your breath shook a little as you took a step closer, as he looked over his shoulder and saw only the crown of your hair from the way your head was turned. "It's been almost ten years, I shouldn't be...."

Mihawk sighed, letting go of his coat as he felt you trembling against him. This was still something he was entirely unaccustomed to—he had seen you in this vulnerable a state only once before, only a few short weeks ago, when he had caught you pulling the blade of one of your daggers across your arm. When you admitted you had been doing so for the better part of ten years—a tally mark, a physical reminder for every mistake you made.

After a moment, he took your wrists in his hand, pulling your arms away.

He turned to face you, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you against him, resting a hand near the crown of your hair to cradle your head against his shoulder, leaning back against the wardrobe.

"Have you considered that that's what happens when you spend a decade blaming yourself for something that was beyond your control?" he said lightly.

Your breath hitched and stuttered, your shoulders shaking as you struggled against the torrent of emotion you had been fighting off for more than three days. Fighting within your own head, leaving you so exhausted that you could do little more than lay in bed and stare at the wall.

"I—if I had stayed hidden like she told me to, she—she'd have—"

"No." It was a hard truth, but it was one you needed to hear. "In all likelihood, you both would have been killed amid the destruction." A small whimper escaped you as he moved his hand down, cupping your jaw lightly to lift your head. Your eyes snapped shut immediately. "Don't do that," he sighed, shaking his head. He lowered his own, resting his forehead against yours. "Look at me."

You clearly hesitated, swallowing, before allowing your eyes to slowly open, meeting his. He brushed his thumb lightly across your cheek, his eyes shifting for a moment to your lips as they trembled a little.

"I can replace most of the things I have in my possession." His sharp yellow eyes moved back up to meet your gaze, keeping his voice quiet, as gentle as the caress of his thumb across your skin. "You, my little bird, are not one of them." Mihawk moved his other hand to your shoulder, slowly pulling your shirt down to expose your left arm, his fingers grazing over the bandage wrapped around your delicate skin, across the scars. "I won't stand to watch you hurt yourself, be it with your blades or by any other means."

He saw as well as heard your breath hitch in your chest, your brows furrowing as your gaze softened.

And then your hands slipped from his shoulders, meeting at the nape of his neck as you tilted your head up to press your lips firmly to his.

You were impossible to resist, your breath shaking amid the fierce kiss. He pulled his arm tighter around you, tugging your shirt down your other shoulder, tossing it away onto the floor. His hands wrapped around your arms as he pushed you back toward the bed, pressed you back into the mattress as he bent over you.

His lips drifted away from yours, curling his fingers in your hair and tugging at the roots to turn your head and give him better access to your soft skin.

"I thought—" You gasped, arching your back as he pushed his hand up your waist, under the soft fabric of your bra. "You said—we need to leave soon—"

"It can wait," he growed into the crook of your neck. The soft moan that left your lips as his thumb brushed across your nipple was like music to his ears. "You've made me wait nearly four days." Perhaps it wasn't fair to phrase it in such a way—but it was the truth of the matter. He turned your head, his eyes burning into yours as he murmured against your lips. "Do you have any idea how much I've craved you?"

It seemed with that you had no further protest, no further questions—you simply gripped a handful of hair at the nape of his neck and crushed your lips to his, arching your back and moaning breathily into the passionate kiss.

He curled his arm under your back, deftly unhooking your bra, and had it ripped away from your body in seconds, shifting you further back onto the bed and trailing his lips down the column of your throat. He had no intention of punishing you, of making you wait—not this time. No, his only focus now was purely your pleasure; making you forget, if only for a brief spell, everything that had been tormenting you.

He lifted you off of the bed to pull one of your nipples into his mouth, his eyes shifted up to watch your head fall back against the comforter, your soft moans filling the sprawling bedchamber as his tongue swirled around the sensitive protrusion. Shifting to your other, a slow sigh leaving him as you arched your hips to grind against his knee between your thighs.

If you wanted more, then, oh, you were going to get it.

He trailed his fingertips down your stomach, quickly unfastened the buttons at the high waist of your shorts, and pushed his hand into them, under the elastic waist of your panties, spreading apart your folds.

Once more he pressed his lips into the crook of your neck, then again just below your ear.

"Yes," Mihawk breathed against your delicate skin as a soft cry left your lips, reveling at the shiver that crept through you, the way your clit twitched and throbbed under his touch. "Break for me, my darling."

You turned your head and pressed your lips to his, drawing in a sharp breath as your hips rolled slowly under his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders. Your breath left you in a soft whimper as your tongues swirled together between your lips amid the deep kiss, his dragging across the roof of your mouth before drawing back, your eyes glazed over in lust as your gazes met.

"More." Your soft, breathless whisper against his lips was almost enough to drive him into a frenzy—your fingertips trailing down the hard lines of his abdominal muscles, stopping at the buckle of his belt. "Please."

And that was enough.

He hated losing control, but goddammit, you made it utterly impossible for him to retain it.

In an instant he slipped his belt loose, shoving his pants down his hips as you kicked your shorts away. His gaze drifted down your body slowly for a moment, admiring every inch of you as if you were the finest work of art lying beneath him, just waiting to be vandalized and ruined.

He shifted you a bit further back on the bed, grasping one of your thighs and pressing it down against your chest.

The way you arched your hips when he thrust into you—the way your eyes rolled back and a quivering moan passed through your lips as the warmth of your tight, slick channel wrapped around him—the way you clung to his neck as he thrust intonyou again and again, your eyes glued to his and your nails digging into bis skin—to say he had been craving this, craving *you* would have been a grievous understatement. It was more than that now, an intrinsic *need* that he couldn't shake, one that he had felt so deeply with no one but you. Without even being consciously aware you had become an addiction—your body, your touch, your moans and whimpers and sighs and gasps, you.

You were wound so tightly from the brief teasing that barely a minute passed before your hips arched high against his, a deep, breathy moan leaving your lips as your thighs clenched around his hips and shook, as your walls clenched tight around his cock. He pulled himself up onto his knees, pulling you up with him, holding you against his chest as he pressed a hard kiss to your lips, groaning quietly into your mouth.

One of his hands found your hip, grasping your soft flesh hard enough to bruise as he tore his mouth from yours, eyes brimming with lust as he growled one quiet word against your lips.

"Again." He pressed his lips to yours again briefly, gripping the nape of your neck. Pressed his lips to your neck, your chest, lowering his hand to push one of your breasts up, kneading at the soft flesh as he guided your hips to roll onto him again and again, before you had even recovered from your intense orgasm. "I."

And again and again, almost as if you were made for the sole purpose of coming undone under his touch. Every one of your wordless moans and breathless whimpers fueled him, drove him wild, his lips trailing across every inch of your skin he could reach—across your chest, the soft swell of your breasts, down your smooth neck and across your shoulders.

Until he couldn't the any more, until the tension building in the pit if his stomach was too much to bear—until he gripped a fistful of your hair and pulled you down hard by your hips, crushed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss and thrust into you hard, shoving you down onto your back and pinning your hands over your head as he completely lost himself within you, his breath shuddering into a low groan that was drowned out by your breathless moans.

Your hips rolled together slowly on the crest of your shared euphoria, your breath leaving you in soft whimpers as his grip on your hands loosened, allowing you to lower one to brush your fingers back through his dark hair. A deep sigh heaved from his chest as his lips parted from yours, and he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him to lay across his chest.

His fingers combed down through your hair as you lay your forehead in the crook of his neck, both of your catching your breath. Mihawk lowered his head enough to brush his lips to your temple, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. "You're going to be the death of me, little one."

You swallowed, laying your cheek against his shoulder, your eyes closed as your soft fingertips caressed the back of his neck, the light touch sending a slight shiver down his spine—as did your breathless, whispered reply.

"I love you."

It wasn't something either if you said often. It had remained more or less of an unspoken understanding between the two of you since he first said it himself a few weeks earlier—and maybe that was why it seemed to have so much of an impact when the words were spoken aloud.

He turned his head and brushed his lips to yours, pulling his thumb across your temple to brush your hair behind your ear.

"I...love you."

The words still felt strange rolling off his tongue—strange, unfamiliar, but not wrong by any means. He tilted his head until his forehead touched yours, closing his eyes. It was the truth, a truth that was difficult to admit after years of solitude, but one that couldn't be left unspoken.

If Mihawk was to expect truth from you, he couldn't withhold it himself.

For sometime he just held you there against him, his arm curled around your back, his thumb brushing slow circles against your waist...and then he spoke.

"We're not going on an assignment." Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his in question. "Twelve hours east of here," he said quietly, slowly, "is the island where you grew up—no," he interjected, when your eyes widened and you began to pull away. He pulled his arm tighter around your back, his other hand at the nape of your neck, curling in your hair to keep you from pulling away. "We're going. You need to." The pain that dawned in your eyes was almost enough to make him relent—but he wouldn't. He couldn't. He shook his head. "You know you need to."

You swallowed, your gaze falling away from his. "I...I don't know if I can..."

"You can." He brushed his lips against yours, fingers combing through your hair, and you lifted your gaze back to his. "You..." He brushed his thumb across your cheek, his eyes boring into yours, "...are the strongest woman I have ever met—don't do that," he added in a lightly chiding tone when you rolled your eyes. He curled his hand around your chin. "You'd have to be strong to have such a chokehold on me, little one."

You rolled your eyes back over to his at that...and you gave a small, quiet chuckle, nuzzling your cheek against hid shoulder. "Touché." Your eyes flickered away for a moment, but returned to his quickly. "I just..." You swallowed, and shook your head. "There's nothing there. Just...a rock in the water."

Your claim echoed Garp's eerily—but the claim echoed just as empty as his had. The mere thought of that rock made your eyes fill with emotion, made your voice break. That rock was the final resting place of one of the most infamous pirates that had ever sailed the Grand Line—the woman that had raised you. Your trainer, your caregiver, your role model.

Your grandmother, the Siren.

"There's a lot more there than just a rock. I think we both know that." You swallowed again...and, after several long seconds, you nodded. Your eyes slipped shut and your breath hitched, and he combed bis fingers slowly through your hair. "We'll rest for a bit, and then we'll leave."

"Y...yes." You gave a short nod, and a slow sigh, your eyes opening to meet his again, full of renewed resolve. "Okay."

His thumb brushed across your cheek, his eyes glued to yours. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but pain was often a necessary catalyst in healing. He sighed slowly, his forehead touching yours.

"I love you."

Your eyes glued to his, you echoed his murmured words without a second thought.

"I love you."

[odditycircus-2002]

Medusa!Reader and Shang Tsung in Mortal Kombat 1 Story Mode Part 11

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NEXT

Spoilers for Mortal Kombat 1 Storymode: Proceed with Caution

The first thing you did when you and your group were finally able to get a safe distance away from Ying's Fortress was punch Shang Tsung in the face and then Quan-chi.

"That's for your part in the Other Shang Tsung's plan!"

Jerrod has to physically hold you back from doing more to them before reminding you there is a more pressing problem. He promises that both Sorcerers will face justice when this crisis is averted. Jerrod's assurance is enough to placate your fury for now. Shang Tsung scowls deeply at the Emperor's words but, for once, doesn't say anything.

You then turn to look back toward the fortress, finding legions of stone warriors marching as one in a long line, similar to ants. You listen as others start speculating about the army and strategies to defeat them, along with Titan Shang Tsung and Titan Y/N. Until the Shang Tsung you know, comes up with a good question about more than one timeline. Although, you looked like you physically wanted to vomit when agreeing with the Sorcerer.

"As much as it pains me to say, Lord Lui Kang, Shang Tsung is actually ri- ... Not wrong to think like that. My Titan self mentioned a timeline of her own, meaning there has to be more than two timelines."

"Precisely. We lack strength, but we could find it in other timelines."

Lui Kang appears surprised by your argument before his expression takes on one of deep thought. This gets the ball rolling as everyone starts strategizing to gather allies from other timelines in an overwhelming opposing force against Titan Shang Tsung, including a plan for Lord Lui Kang to reclaim his Titan powers again. You just hope he’ll be able to do so in time.

Meanwhile, your Titan self conspires with Titan Shang Tsung while overwatching the construction of the Portals Nexus point. Titan Y/N instructs Shao to defend the portals at all costs, as Titan Shang Tsung commands Geras to find Lui Kang. Although Titan Shang Tsung expresses frustration toward Lui Kang’s development, Titan Y/N assures her husband that they will succeed, and when they do, watching Lui Kang suffer will be all the sweeter to savor.

”You always know how to brighten my mood, my love.”

Meanwhile, you were observing the Dragon Army with the rest of Earthrealm’s champions, regrouping with them to talk strategy in Lord Lui Kang’s absence. Kuai Liang tasks you as the field medic and air support.

You’re not ashamed to say that when both Shang Tsung and Quan-chin opened their mouths again, you were seconds away from biting them both. Again, Jerrod had to hold your shoulder to silently tell you to drop it for now.

With everyone’s role assigned, you take to the skies. Immediately, some stone soldiers spotted you and started hurling boulders towards you. You were barely able to dodge the barrage of the first one, and even then, you got scrapped and bruised. So not only did you have enemies on the ground to assist against, but you also had them in the air, so nowhere was truly safe. Fortunately, you could stop constructing a newer portal by dismantling the scaffolding.

While you were supposed to be general air support, you often found yourself having to assist both Raiden and the Sorcerers. Such as with a Darker Rain and Smoke, turning both of them to stone after Shang Tsung and Quan-chi defeats them.

”Thank you so much, sweet Y/N.”

”Don’t tempt me to cut out your tongue and force Quan-chi to eat it.”

You finally got to take out some of your fury on a Dark Shao, which you 100% enjoyed helping to beat down. The fact his life force was connected to the portals was just a bonus. Although, he almost caught you off guard when you went to tend to Raiden to heal up his fractured ribs. Luckily, and unfortunately, Shang Tsung and Quan-chi saved the young Earthrealmer just in time. You didn’t miss Shang Tsung’s flirtatious look as he walked to confront Dark Shao. As much as you wanted to end Shao, you knew you had to heal Raiden first and even more this time considering he took a lot of hammer blows.

Fortunately, both Sorcerers succeeded and took both Dark Shao and Reiko’s souls, stranding the Dragon Army within Earthrealm. Saving your timeline. However, your relief was soon replaced with irritation when Shang Tsung reminds you and Raiden about how he and Quan-chi risked their lives to save the realms.

”I have to agree with Raiden. What you did hear was simply cleaning up your own mess.”

However, there wasn't a time to squabble amongst yourself. Not when there was still the remaining Dragon Army to defeat.

...

Back with your Titan self, you accompanied your Titan husband to Lui Kang's Hourglass. You arrived flanked by either side of your minions, some Shang Tsung crafted explicitly in a way so they may be gifted to you.

”Titans fighting Titans? Now that’s something new.”

You comment in amusement when noticing that Lui Kang has found Titan allies while giving them all an unnerving smile. A shiver of anticipation goes down your spine when Titan Shang Tsung reiterates the new plan he told you earlier of annihilating Lui Kang's timeline from existence.

"Shall we begin the process, my flower?"

"Let us proceed, darling."

Both of you then released your minions onto Liu Kang and his allies to keep them occupied. Shang Tsung and you walk hand in hand toward Lui Kang's Hourglass, stopping when you're both close enough to combine your magic with your Kitana and Mileena. The cracking of glass ringing out like chiming bells in your ears. Of course, Lui Kang's ever-faithful servant, Geras, attempts to save the Hourglass with his own blast of magic.

You let out a hiss before directing some of your magic to Geras, just enough to gain his attention so he looks directly at your eyes. Your gaze worked like a charm to turn Geras into stone. However, before you can celebrate, the construct shedded the stone off him like dried mud. So you bare your fangs in frustration as you try again to turn him into stone, only for him to then unpetrify himself. This cycle repeats long enough for Lui Kang and his allies to band together and use their power to overpower you and Shang Tsung's attempt at destroying the Hourglass, simultaneously repairing the relic of any previous damage. The magic overwhelmed you both to the point you and your husband were brought to your knees.

"Dearest!"

You shout as your face morphs into one of concern, with your snakes slithering in his direction and hissing in your shared distress. Shang Tsung gives you an assuring look.

"I have survived worse."

You both supported one another back on your feet to retreat into your timeline with the rest of your defeated minions. You glare at the rest of your fellow Titans, who were wise enough to not even look your way. Which only frustrates you more.

"Shang Tsung, I believe it's about time we gather some new allies of our own."

"Agreed." A/N: Remember to like, reblog, or comment! We just got one or two posts left to go!😁😁😁😁

Playlist

“Redemption” by Besomorph and Coopex

“Bloody Mary” by Lady Gaga

“Fix You” by Danny Olson

[writing-yarn-goblin]

I’m here to post shit and have fun!

In honor of Halloween! Here’s some stories to have fun with!

Anime: One Piece

Character: Crocodile

Monster: Gargoyle

Warnings: Crocodile’s rizz

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Alright…he said ‘Baratie, 11 PM.”

You wanted to scream. This man you’ve been dating, your so called boyfriend, had told you that he wanted to go with you to Baratie.

Here you were- in a shimmering black dress with a slit that went up your thigh, black high heels and a small clutch- waiting at your assigned booth for this man to appear.

For about 40-50 minutes now.

You had received a text from him saying that it was over and confirmed the fact that he was cheating thanks to a photo he posted with his tongue down another woman’s throat. You felt sad but then decided that your evening will not be spoiled thanks to that useless prick and his cheating tendencies. You texted him he had 24 hours to leave your apartment and that you’d give him consequences if he didn’t.

Thankfully you’ve known the owner of this establishment and after talking to him and explaining the situation (you were good friends with him and his partner), he slid a few drinks on the house for the unfortunate evening.

As the club changed its scenery, you changed as well.

Your hair turned to life as the little snakes that adorned it yawned and changed from laying down to curling up on top of your head. Almost like a top bun. You aided them by putting a soft thin silk scrunchy on your hair, sorta like a pillow for the little ones.

As a Gorgon- you needed to be careful.

Thankfully technology has gone a long way and now you could wear specially made eye contacts for a monster of your particularity.

Going out with Gorgons was a little hard with the whole ‘I’ll-turn-you-to-stone-with-just-a-glance’ detail. History managed to make sure that the Gorgon line went past its supposedly imminent demise after Medusa was slain.

Making it its own subspecies of society welcomed gorgon women. Not all of them had the same power but very few, like you, could do all of what Medusa did and more.

“Excuse me, but is this seat taken?”

You whipped your head to meet with this person but you felt your throat go dry.

A man that almost doubled you in height, broad chest and shoulders. A man so incredibly handsome that seemed to be the epitome of elegance, poise and a connoisseur of beauty.

Height, build, stare and tone of voice had you entranced and, honestly, it was intimidating.

“Might as well sit down, my date is late anyway.”

The soft chuckle that came from his throat was caught by your ears, earning a pink tinge on your ears.

“A woman as exquisite looking as yourself shouldn’t be sitting by her lonesome. Especially one that got stood up by an imbecile.”

He had you swooning and it’s only been 5 minutes.

“I hope you find me to be good company Mister…-“

“Crocodile. Call me Crocodile.”

‘More like big Daddy.’ You thought, taking the last sip of wine and about to order more but you were stopped.

“Waiter-“ he managed to stop a young employee before he zoomed past them. “I’ll have an Old Fashion and bring the lovely lady anything she desires.”

‘Holy shit, that was hot.’ You thought.

“Miss?”

“Oh-erhm- Whiskey. House sour mix, please.”

Once the waiter left, you were received by a a raised brow from Crocodile.

“You like spirits?”

“They kill the ghosts that haunt me- I’d say they are easily my favorite.”

The words kept being exchanged and the evening had progressed into a lovely one.

Until it was time to leave.

You felt a little empty on the inside when it was time to leave…at 4 in the morning.

“Well, Miss (L/N), I believe that this concluded our evening. I hope you found everything to your liking.”

“More than that. I had fun regardless the initial 45 minutes of waiting for a failed relationship. He was a waste of time and space, to be honest. But at least I had the pleasure of dining with someone of your caliber, Mr. Crocodile.” You said, whispering a secret that he so gingerly lapped up.

“Indeed. If you’d like, we can arrange another outing. One where you wouldn’t have to hide those beautiful eyes of yours.”

You sighed. Now at the door of your car and unlocking the vehicle in order to get in.

“If I let you see my eyes, you’d be petrified.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. You’d find that we might have something in common.”

This poked at your brain.

“How so?” You asked, earning another low gravel chuckle from him.

“You turn men into stone. I am stone.”

You tilted your head and gasped when you saw it. When he took out his coat, wing could be seen clipped right in his shoulders. They looked Bat like but at the same time- thick to carry his weight. His slanted eyes shifted the pupils into slits and a bit of silver lined against the pupil. To differentiate where his eye and a let started. The skin of his hand was now heavy and soft, like polished stone.

“You’re a Gargoyle.” You mumbled, cheeks warm at the interesting development. You felt him push a little card against your hands and felt like you were a pile of goo on the inside.

“Here’s my card. Feel free to call or drop in. I hope to hear back from you, Miss (Y/N).“

With that you saw how his wings opened and flew off to his lair.

You had waited a few days to call him and set up a date.

To which he replied-

“I’ll come and pick you up at 10 PM. And Miss (L/N)? No contacts. I want to marvel in your raw beauty.”

[watercolorfreckles]

Medusa

The stone walls creaked, breeze billowing through the empty halls of the abandoned castle.

Villain had a way of listening to the stone's whispers, understanding its every shift and crack.

Someone was inside.

She found him kneeling in the throne room overgrown by ivy and moss. Paying respect to the statues of the fallen king and queen.

Villain stepped up behind him, the cobblestone clicking beneath her heels.

Hero inhaled sharply, spine straightening.

"Don't turn around," Villain said, "Don't look. If you look, I will kill you."

The warning fell from her lips on automatic. So often repeated, it felt engraved on her tongue.

It was the only mercy she offered, and the only one allowed to her.

And it tired her.

She glanced around, wondering how many more statues could fit in the courtyard.

Hero swallowed, hands resting in his lap. "I do not come to harm you."

"How liberating it must be to have a choice in the matter," Villain said, stepping closer.

She knelt down behind him, white skirts pooling around her feet.

She leaned close to his ear. "If you try to use me, you will not survive. You are not the first to try, and you will not be the last. You humans think that being flesh and blood makes you invincible; different, in your passion, from the last crumbling mortal. You're not. You all fall to stone. If you wish to live..." She reached out to trace the curve of his brow. "Leave."

"You are lonely," Hero said softly. A stream of sunlight caught his hair, igniting it golden.

"Yes," Villain admitted. What did it matter? No use in keeping secrets from the dead.

A single glance at her face, and she would be alone again. Ruler of a hollow, soulless castle.

Villain watched Hero's line of sight shift toward another statue across the room, one of many turning the court into a graveyard.

They called her Medusa, after the mythic villain of old tales. To lock eyes with Medusa was to turn to stone.

Many sought to capture Villain's image, whether through enchanted mirrors magicked to steal her reflection, or foolish attempts at painting her likeness. They lusted to wield her likeness as a weapon. To spread it across enemy lines in a massacre of crumbling stone; to tuck a portrait into a lover's letter to kill them with a glance.

"That is why I am here," Hero said. "I imagine it has been a long time indeed since you've had any sincere company."

"You are sealing your own fate," Villain said. "Just as the others have. They always look. They can't help themselves. There is a draw to my eyes, in mere moments you won't be able to resist."

A small smile curled the hero's blushy lips. "I am not afraid."

"Then you are a fool," Villain said, standing up and turning away.

A hand caught her wrist. Fingers warm and gentle against her skin.

Her breath caught.

"Look at me," Hero said softly.

Villain stood statue still. "Do you wish to die?"

"I wish to see you," he replied. "And I wish for you to see me."

"It is cruel to make me your murderer without my consent," Villain murmured.

She listened to Hero rise off of the ground. "Look at me," he repeated. "It's okay."

Villain slated her expression and turned to face him.

Her eyes locked onto Hero's. His, a cloudy grey turned milky and white. It shone in the light like uncut marble.

Nothing happened. No creaking bones cementing into rock, no terrified gaze locked into an expression never again to be altered by time.

He was untouched. Human. Alive.

Villain released a shuddering breath, staring at the hero if he were the most beautiful thing in creation.

In that moment, those mottled, unseeing eyes, were.

Hero lifted a hand, palm stopping short of Villain's cheek. "You've seen me. May I now see you?"

Swallowing hard, she nodded. "Yes."

Hero advanced slowly to cup her face between his hands, using his fingers to gently map out her features.

Her eyes fluttered close at the brush of thumbs against her eyelids. He traced the line of her jaw and the curve of her lips, trailing over nose and cheeks and temple.

"You are beautiful," Hero said.

Villain laughed, an unbidden tear falling into the cracks of Hero's palm.

His grip tightened a fraction in response, turned cradling.

Villain found herself leaning into his touch. So warm in contrast to the endless labyrinth of stone corpses.

A sob caught somewhere in her chest.

She couldn't kill him. Not with a mere look, anyway. Never had she been able to hold someone's gaze without watching the light in them snuff out. It made her want to stare and stare and stare.

It felt like freedom. It felt like mercy.

It was too perfect, too kind of the fates, to be true.

"What will you tell them when you return? 'The man who conquered Medusa's wicked stare.' You will be a hero to them." Villain pulled back an inch, voice cracking. "Perhaps you're here to slay me. Gouge out my spell-binding eyes and offer my head on a stake to your people."

Hero's brow creased, hand dropping absently to finger the fold of her skirts. His thumb brushed her hip through the drapes of fabric.

"I would not harm you, my lady. I have listened to stories of you for years. They say you are a monster. They don't consider how it must feel... How you must hurt. Nobody should bear such pain alone." His free hand rose carefully, as if expecting an objection, before brushing her hair back.

Villain watched him. His touch was magic against her skin.

"You've come to help shoulder my pain?"

"They cast me out, as they did you. They call me a traitor for what I speak on your behalf. I think...I think I fell in love with you far before we met; before this moment." Hero swallowed, eyes managing a fairly accurate glance toward hers. "I am alone too. I thought- perhaps, that you... That we-"

Villain stepped closer, cupping the hero's face, and kissed him. Gentle and soft and all the things they claimed she wasn't.

They would be alone, together. Perhaps, she realized, that was enough.

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[monarchsthoughtsonmedia]

Now that the entirety of season one is out in the world, it's time for me to finally discuss it in great detail:

Percy Jackson & the Olympians TV Series

First off, I want to make it clear that I love this show. As a fan of the books, it was great. But there are a lot of issues.

Casting: I had to start with this because if I didn't include it, idiots would get mad. I love the actors that were casted, particularly the kids. They are incredible actors and have great chemistry with one another. The lines they are given, however, are poor at times.

Script: The writing, imo, is poor because Rick Riordan is a book writer. Script writing and novel writing are two very different arts and his involvement in the script and lack of experience script writing probably didn't mesh. Rick, however, should take this in stride and simply work at it.

Pacing: The show was terribly paced because of, yet again, the writing. But also because they were not given enough episodes to work with. Hopefully, Disney will listen and give the cast & crew more flexibility in the future.

Exposition: Personally, with or without exposition this show would have been lacking because the best way to have handled a world with so much lore would have been an at least partially animated show. If I had creative control over the TV series and unlimited budget, I would have designed the show similarly to Lizzie McGuire with animated Book! Percy showing up and narrating a bit and drawing sketches of myths and other exposition-y stuff.

Immediately Knowing Everything: I have no idea how they can fix this honestly. It was a mistake that changed pacing, characterization, and the plot of every episode poorly and we all have to live with it.

CGI: Once again a victim of the budget. We lost the pink poodle, the zebra, the hell hound, and more to the poor CGI budget that Disney granted this show. I truly hope they get more budget for season two.

Grover: Rick really tried to rewrite Grover's character to be "more important" to the plot, taking away any actual scenes of his characterization, but failed to leave out the jokes. The joke about Grover eating too much not only fell flat but felt icky to me. The nereid giving Percy four pearls only for Grover to be the one to lose one? Made episode seven my least favorite. Percy sort of blaming Grover for them missing the deadline? Not only out of character but angered me.

Gabe: I really had faith that the show would do more with Gabe after the first two episodes and actually make his eventual death earned but his death had no emotional impact because 1) he's not clearly shown as abusive and 2) Sally is not the one who kills him. It not only copied the post credits scene from the movie but also takes away Sally's control of her narrative which should have been emphasized with her characterization in the show.

Crusty's Water Bed: Boring. Should have been cut. They couldn't even bother with CGI enough to make him look like a cyclops.

The Mist and May/Sally: Not everyone who sees through the mist is a seer which is what the show implies and also they never bother to mention that Sally can see through the mist! The May/Sally parallel is extremely important!

Ares's Curse: Forgive me if I'm wrong but I don't believe Ares ever curses Percy/Riptide. It's an unfortunate cut that I wish they had kept because imo it is important to the plot of the series.

Killing Alecto: This is very personal to myself and my theories but I always imagined that when Medusa turned someone to stone, their soul was trapped there. I liked that fate for Gabe in the books. Thus, her coming back was disappointing for me.

Aphrodite's Scarf: Sad this didn't make the cut. I know it's not really important but I do miss it.

All in all, I really do hope for more seasons. Hopefully, they can fix the majority of these issues with time 💕

[tabsters]

SOMEONE LIKE ME (CHAP. 12) - A STARGLASS ZODIAC X ZODIAC EXPERIMENT CROSSOVER

heehoo another chapter

previous chapter is here

next chapter is here

masterpost is here

tagging @mythicalmagical-monkeyman @hyperfixation-tangentopia @maiawhimsicalt @sweet-star-cookie

"Sagittarius and Cancer should be in the forge at this time," Scutum said, opening an enormous set of double doors to a large building. It had tall, imposing walls of stone brick, and as soon as the doors opened, a wave of heat washed over Ciara.

"Cancer! Sagittarius!" Scutum shouted as they entered the forge. Armor racks fitted with various helmets and breastplates lined one side of the room. On the other side, swords and other blades rested on weapon racks. In the center, Sagittarius was pounding upon an anvil with a hammer. Cancer was watching him intently. 

Sagittarius glanced towards Ciara, nodding in acknowledgement before returning to his work. "Be with you in a bit."

"Hello!" Cancer said, turning towards Ciara and Scutum. "Our newest visitor, eh? Nice to actually meet you!"

"Hi," Ciara said, craning her neck to look up at Cancer. A small creature—a two headed serpent?—sat on her shoulder. Cancer noticed Ciara's stares, and brought her hand to her shoulder, the creature hopping into it. 

"This is Hydra," She said, bringing the tiny thing closer to Ciara. Its two heads chirruped in unison, sounding like some kind of Pokemon character. 

"That's...Hydra?" Ciara asked. "I—I mean no disrespect, of course, but the Hydra in my world is, well...bigger."

Cancer chuckled as Hydra hopped around on her palm. "That's what many people expect of these two—a big, threatening monster. But in reality, they're just small and harmless."

Hydra's two heads squeaked in annoyance, and Cancer went back on her words. "My mistake. They're just small and mostly harmless, unless provoked. Isn't that right?"

One head nodded in agreement, and the other grinned in satisfaction. Ciara giggled. "They're cute! Way cuter than my own Hydra."

"What is Hydra like in your world?" Cancer asked, returning Hydra to her shoulder. Hydra promptly began crawling and climbing up Cancer's sandy blonde hair, onto her head. 

Ciara thought back to her Hydra. They hadn't spoken in a while—Hydra used to be one of her best sparring partners but after the drama with Eclipse's capture, they never got around to meeting together.

"Uh...she's got blue hair. Her hair is also a shitload of snakes, like Medusa, I guess. She used to be my sparring partner but we sort of stopped talking. She's the sister of my own Pisces, and she's pretty chill."

Cancer nodded. "I see. And, if I might ask, what am I like?"

Ciara hesitated at this. Cancer was basically her father figure, and she cared for him tremendously. He was kind, and sweet, and he had so much love inside his heart. How to describe someone like him?

"Cancer's basically my dad. He's awesome. Although he doesn't make armor or weapons like you—that's actually Virgo's job. He's one of the best healers in our Astral Plane because his tears have healing properties." 

Cancer nodded in understanding. "How interesting." 

"I'm finished," Sagittarius announced, hefting the weapon he had finished working on over his shoulder. When he talked, he spoke with a strong accent—Scottish, maybe? "Ah, how nice, our visitor's here. A pleasure to meet you." He held out his free hand to Ciara, which was covered with scars and calluses. "I'm Sagittarius, but perhaps you knew that already."

Ciara shook it, staring at the weapon he was carrying. It looked like some sort of battle-axe, and its blades curved upward. It vaguely resembled the glyph of the Taurus Zodiac.

Sagittarius noticed her gaze, turning the axe so it lay in both his hands. "A fine piece of work, isn't it? It belongs to Taurus. She's always breaking her weapons, constantly needing repairs."

Ciara nodded. "My Aries has an axe similar to that. It's huge." 

"So you also have an interest in weaponry?" Sagittarius chuckled. "You've a small look about you, but I imagine you're quite strong."

"I actually helped to make this sword," Ciara said, unsheathing her own sword. "I did the stuff with the anvil like you—well, Virgo did the majority of the stuff. But I helped enchant it too."

Sagittarius stroked his long, bushy beard. "Fascinating. Would you mind if I took a closer look?"

Ciara held out the sword, and Sagittarius gently picked it up, observing the blade's shine, the glyphs etched into the metal, and the build of the hilt. 

"Very fine craftsmanship," Sagittarius said, turning it round and round. "These glyphs, what do they mean?"

"Oh, those?" Ciara bent forward, pointing to each glyph. "They're what gives the sword the ability to perform elemental magic. But they only respond to me, and half the time they don't even work properly." 

"And these smaller carvings near the hilt?"

"My sword's name. In my Astral Plane, it's typical to name your sword once you take ownership of it. She's called Godhunter."

Sagittarius handed the sword back, and Ciara sheathed it. "Very interesting indeed. Thank you for letting me look at it."

"Sagittarius, sir!" A new voice shouted from the front. Ciara turned, and there was a boy struggling to open the heavy doors. He had dark, curly brown hair, dark skin speckled with patches of lighter skin, and was holding several swords in his arms. "A—a little help, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Right away." Sagittarius quickly ran over to hold the door open, letting the boy walk in. It was then Ciara noticed that the boy had four legs—he was a centaur like Sagittarius. However, he had horse legs instead of bear legs.

"Thank you, sir." The boy looked around. "Oh, hello, Cancer, and—oh!" He shifted suddenly, almost dropping his load of swords. "You're the newcomer! The visitor from another world!" 

"Guilty as charged," Ciara said, waving slightly. "And who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Centaurus! But most people just call me Rus." Centaurus deposited the swords onto a table for repair. "It's very nice to meet you!"

"Funny thing, actually," Ciara said, looking at both Sagittarius and Centaurus. "In my world, Centaurus is also Sagittarius' companion constellation. But Centaurus is actually older than Sagittarius. Also she's not an archer—she's a fortune teller."

Sagittarius huffed, amused. "Imagine that! You being older than me!" 

"Does the Centaurus in your world like astrophotography too?" Centaurus asked, now excited. "I've been trying to chart the skies for a while now, it's sort of my hobby."

"Actually, she kind of does." Ciara thought back to Centaurus and her fortune telling rituals. "But it's more related to the planets than anything else. She says stuff like 'Mercury is in retrograde' or something like that." 

Centaurus' eyes lit up. "Really?! It's too bad I'll never meet her. Anyway—I have the swords you requested, sir."

"Thank you, lad." Sagittarius patted Centaurus' shoulder. "That'll be all for today."

"Why do you need so many swords?" Ciara asked, suddenly concerned. "Is there a war happening right now?"

"Heavens, no!" Cancer quickly reassured Ciara, though the younger girl didn't miss how all the other people in the room tensed up at her question. "These are merely precautions to ward off creatures from the Voidlands—but it's nowhere near the scale of a war."

Ciara nodded, lost in thought. Scorpio had mentioned 'Void magic' earlier that morning. Were the two related? And if so, what did Scorpio have to do with the Voidlands?

“Hey, Cancer?” Ciara asked, looking up at the woman. “Does Scorpio have something to do with the Voidlands?"

check out @sweet-star-cookie's starglass zodiac lore if you liked this!! questions about my lore are greatly appreciated!!

[postwarlevi]

AOT parents and Disney movies

Official WD animation only

What they want to watch vs the movie that gets played repeatedly.

Erwin - He's the old school dad and would love to watch Fantasia, but his toddler does not appreciate it like he does. Instead, The Emperor's New Groove is on daily. Erwin is finally starting to laugh at the jokes, and loves Yzmas "is that, my voice?" line.

Levi - If he has to pick, maybe Dumbo, since he gets a happy ending with his mother. Just no Bambi. His kid puts on Lilo and Stitch. Levi is all about Ohana, and likes the Elvis songs. They're not getting a dog, though.

Miche - Give him The Jungle Book. Baloo, King Louie, the Vultures, he knows the lines. His kid likes it when dad does the lines, but otherwise? It's Cinderella. Miche is willing to play the stepsisters for laughs.

Eren - Give him Atlantis, give him Treasure Planet, he wants adventure! Actually gets to watch Snow White. Doesn't know how this happened, but accepts it nonetheless. Likes Dopey at any rate.

Armin - He loves the animation of Sleeping Beauty. The whole thing is gorgeous. He gets to watch lots of Peter Pan as his kid loves pirates. That came out around the same time so it's not that bad.

Jean - Says he wants to watch Lion King. Feels like a Simba most the time. What's actually getting played, is Tangled (tell me you didn't see that coming) but when he gets told he's reminded of Flynn, he enjoys the film a little more.

Connie - Oliver and Company is his jam, the songs are fun and he loves dogs. And yet, The Aristocats rule in his house. Turns out he's a cat person too and he likes the songs in it as well.

Reiner - He likes The Sword in the Stone. He likes the setting, the characters, and the Wizards Duel. His child loves The Little Mermaid, though, and he happily watches it with them everyday.

Porco - Just wanted to watch Aladdin. Has great sidekicks and an awesome villain. Gets stuck with Alice in Wonderland. Doesn't understand it at all but likes croquet match part.

Hange - Give them Big Hero Six or Meet the Robinsons. Tech, inventors? Yes please! Turns out Wreck it Ralph is on all the time, but they enjoy it just as much!

Mikasa - Loves the story of Mulan and thinks it's a good influence. Turns out it is and she and her child watch it all the time. However, they also like the sequel, and Mikasa cringes every time.

Annie - Don't tell anyone, she likes Frozen. Elsa is the ice queen, after all. The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh gets put on, and she finds she likes Rabbit a lot. Tigger however, needs to calm down.

Sasha - Loves Robin Hood due to the archery involved and the comedic villains. Her kid gets her to watch Hercules and she likes the action, fantasy and jokes just as much. Plus Meg is awesome.

Historia - Does like Cinderella the most. Who doesn't dream of being a princess when they're little? Her kid likes Moana and she likes the characters willingness to ask for help and confront her enemy after losing hope.

Ymir - Wants to watch Tarzan. Doesn't know if she likes Tarzan, Jane, or Clayton the most. Winds up watching The Rescuers and finds herself rooting for Bianca and Bernard against that crazy mad Medusa and her crocs.

Pieck - Quite likes Beauty and the Beast. Doesn't think Belle is odd at all, and loves the songs. Lady and the Tramp it is though, and she likes the old classic feel of it. Does NOT like Aunt Sarahs cats.

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Made kind of quick, hope you like it! Do you think these are accurate? What would YOU watch?

Maybe we'll do a mini Pixar version?

[oh-three]

PJO S1E8:

Oooh, flashback to fighting Luke. That's poetry.

Percy over here having been in this world for like two weeks and already fighting one of the most dangerous Gods and foiling a plot meant to start a war.

The look on Ares's face as the wave came down 😂

Well, at least he gave up the helm. Maybe he really didn't know that Kronos was using him? Or was he on Kronos's side all along? Idr.

I fucking forgot about Alecto. Quite funny that she was after them for the helm and not the master bolt.

"Good luck on Olympus." See, maybe there is some honor in the monsters' side after all.

"I'm done running from monsters. This is too important. I have to try." / "You're gonna need all the luck you can get." 😭

And, it's back to New York.

Not Percy walking in like he owns the place. Good for him.

Luke over here instilling bad thoughts into Percy's mind thinking he can corrupt him.

Damnnnn, Olympus looks fucking amazing. 👀

There's something hilarious about the fact that Zeus looks absolutely nothing like his brothers.

POSEIDON!

Poseidon using Thalia's existence against Zeus in defense of Percy 👍

There is something hilarious about Percy and his father wearing shirts over such similar color.

"The sea does not like to be restrained." What a line.

"She taught me a lot of things." 😭

"Do you ever dream about Mom?" 😭

gets fucking dropped conveniently right next to where the other forbidden child rests Poseidon could have put him anywhere in the Camp, there's something very significant about this.

PERCY STARING AT LUKE AS HE REALIZES THAT HE IS THE TRAITOR.

Luke's first words not being of denial, but: "I didn't think you'd give them to Grover to wear" is actually kind of scary, especially in that almost-sad tone.

HIS SWORD JUST CUT REALITY OPEN

"I met your dad" being the line that provokes Luke is fucking perfect.

ANNABETH WAS THERE THE WHOLE TIME, OH MY GOD. IMAGINE HOW SHE MUST FEEL RIGHT NOW. HOLY SHIT. HE WAS HER BEST FRIEND 😭😭

Chiron giving a heartfelt speech, with Dionysus coming up to fucking ruin the moment 😂

ANNABETH IS GOING BACK TO SEE HER DAD FOR THE FIRST TIME IN LIKE FOUR YEARS 😭

"Just...be a kid." I wish someone had told me that when I was their age.

I love seeing how close these three has become. And the way Percy made them promise to come back to see each other again. Goddddd, I love them so much. The childhood nostalgia is real.

Percy, you forgot to close the door.

Back to what I said about some monsters having honor...Hades kept his word.

Fuck off, Kronos.

Percy went from "You're better at this than me" to "Well, it turns out I'm pretty good at this" and I am so happy for him. Our boy's gained some self-esteem.

I mean, he's not wrong about calling Kronos his grandfather, but man is that funny 😂

AYYY, SHE DIVORCED GABE.

THEY DID NOT FUCKING SEND MEDUSA'S HEAD BACK TO PERCY. The fact that Gabe was the one to find and open it in his spite is the best shit ever.

Wait. If the box got turned to stone because he was holding it, does that mean the head just turned itself to stone as well?

Okay, so. I was googling who Lance Reddick was because of the tribute at the end, and. It is truly so tragic that last year two actors died before the release of a project they would likely end up returning in. Looking back at everything he's been in, I'm honestly surprised I've never heard of him before. But, man, he and Ray Stevenson...I am actually so sad about this.

[anightmarethisdamage]

Medusa MV Reactions Part 2

Anyway I'm not going to lie, I thought this was Sangwoo's grave... :o

Rip.

This reminds me of the Cicada ARG.

I also find it interesting that the Medusa place is a carwash - with water (duh) which could be used as a mirror to stop Medusa from turning you to stone. We could also see the TV screen earlier as a way to stop her turning you to stone - hence why the boys just got... brainwashed? De-brainwashed? Whatever it was.

Omg Medusa's drug dealing water now!

I love the travelling motifs like cars, petrol stations, hotels etc, but I just cannot suspend disbelief enough to think they got such a nice car without stealing or murder.

Why does he look so fascinated lmao?

OMG WATER!

Bain got to water his plant! Or did he....?

Yeah how about no he didn't?

Dude my jaw dropped when I saw this shot. The MV could have ended with Bain recycling his water bottle, but this one shot recontextualises the whole thing. As you may know, since I stan JUST B, I am a massive fan of time loops and nonlinear narratives. And if there is one thing to take away from this MV - it's that in Tick Tock we saw the butterfly effect happening - and now they've done something that butterfly-effected them into a timeloop dream state. I would say 'like idiots,' but this happens to a lot of people apparently, so they're just regularly stupid.

This also creates a lot of engagement in the MV because we now wonder - how do they get out? Which is the dream? Are they both the same reality or not? Is this real or not? And so on. I think I've offered good hypotheses in my analysis but the only real way to get an answer is next comeback... which... I mean, since this one took 11 months we have no clue when the next one will happen, if at all.

Sorry to be a downer.

I loved the song, anyway.

Let's look at the lyrics!

Lyric Analysis

Yep, so straight off the bat there's a lot of imagery of violence, suffering, conflict etc - talking about predators, starving, killing, etc - and also division - they are divided, either from each other or the rest of the world.

Then there's the fixing of the division - through the rain that washes the memories away - ironic, since there's no water in the MV - and then the connection - riding high beside you and throwing your old memories away, breaking your painful past to come out new.

I like how they say 'in the darkness, you're my Medusa' - in classic JUST B fashion, with insane depth. Medusa could be beautiful, she could also be ugly. But whatever she is, she is dangerous, and this is reflected in the MV - the rain is supposed to bond them to their Medusa and get rid of the division - but there is no rain - it's all in their head - they are being deceived by her and in the end end up with nothing - no water, no love no nothing.

Not going to lie, with the whole 'drop the pain on me' and 'I'll break the thorny barriers around your heart,' they sound a little masochistic. Mind you, this is something we've seen before with JUST B - probably related to the trauma of DAMAGE.

I like how JM's bridge-postchorus thing is distorted too - shows the effect that Medusa has on them. Also, how they then literally say 'I can't look away,' like, yeah, you can't, you're literally stone, my guy.

Medusa also recontextualises the 'don't break down' at the end - because they are stone, they can literally be broken and shattered.

So - conclusions about the lyrics. As always, they are amazing and have some hidden meaning. However, I think they really shine with the MV, rather than by themselves, as lyrics like DAMAGE do. Medusa is on paper, a lovesong with some potentially sinister meaning. But the MV takes that gothic, sinister nature up the the next degree. Not only is there no rain and no water, only desert and suffering, but there is also no sign of love or relief from this suffering. There are also wonderfully amazing moments like the line 'You're the medusa in my darkness,' - suggesting a saviour - while Bain is literally crying over not having water - hence, no saviour. It reveals how the boys have been blinded to the dangerous nature of their situation, and it's quite frankly amazing how the MV contradicts the lyrics of the song to tell a story. 10/10.

Conclusions

An amazingly Gothic story, as expected from JUST B. It carries on both from the 'JUST B' series and from Naneun, continuing the story while also creating it's own self-contained and intriguing story. It leaves us with many questions and a few potential answers, and uses the juxtaposition of lyrics and video to further show the themes of the story in an amazing way. Could it be better? Sure. But I'll always have my own directions I want the storyline to go and they won't be the ones BlueDot takes. It's still a very solid addition to their discography and I know I'll be playing this song on repeat for ages, singing my heart out like Geonu.

[viscountessevie]

Intro To Dark Olympus by Katee Robert

Welcome to my little review series of Katee Robert' Dark Olympus series! This is in lead up to the latest instalment of the series, Cruel Seduction. I also just felt like taking a trip down the Greek mythology retellings lane.

A general summary of the series: It's set in a modern day city called Olympus with mortals versions of the Greek myth characters. Their power comes in the form of being rich, famous and powerful. It's fairly political in nature and each sector of the city is ruled by The Thirteen - the main thirteen Olympians we're familiar with in the original mythology.

I think what struck me about this series is that it was a hot romance take on myths I loved growing up so much. Katee also has pretty fresh interpretations of the characters and the stories themselves while still keeping true to the beats of the original myths.

So far there are 5 books in the series (including the prequel!) I have enjoyed the first three books in the series, can't wait to reread two of them for these reviews and start on the last two leading up to Cruel Seduction.

Here's an overview and the couples of each book [I'll update this list with links to my reviews here once I post them]:

Prequel: Stone Heart [Medusa & Calypso]

In the city of Olympus, people hardly dare to say Medusa's name aloud. She is Athena's agent, the one she sends when she wants someone to disappear. Medusa owes her life to Athena, and if staining her hands with blood is the only way to repay her debt, it's a small price to pay. Until Athena sends him to find Calypso, the mistress of wealthy politician Odysseus. Calypso has done nothing worthy of a death sentence, and her conflicting feelings only worsen when Medusa first sees the woman behind the name. Calypso is beautiful, cunning and above all ready to do anything to save her life, including seducing her potential assassin. But what begins as a ploy to escape quickly turns into a real attraction. Because Medusa is not the cold killer that rumours suggest, and Calypso is much more complex than it seems... Book 1: Neon Gods [Hades & Persephone]

Society darling Persephone Dimitriou plans to flee the ultra-modern city of Olympus and start over far from the backstabbing politics of the Thirteen Houses. But all that’s ripped away when her mother ambushes her with an engagement to Zeus, the dangerous power behind their glittering city’s dark facade.

With no options left, Persephone flees to the forbidden undercity and makes a devil’s bargain with a man she once believed a myth... a man who awakens her to a world she never knew existed.

Hades has spent his life in the shadows, and he has no intention of stepping into the light. But when he finds that Persephone can offer a little slice of the revenge he’s spent years craving, it’s all the excuse he needs to help her—for a price. Yet every breathless night spent tangled together has given Hades a taste for Persephone, and he’ll go to war with Olympus itself to keep her close… Book 2: Electric Idol [Psyche & Eros]

In the ultra-modern city of Olympus, there's always a price to pay. Psyche knew she'd have to face Aphrodite's ire eventually, but she never expected her literal heart to be at stake...or for Aphrodite's gorgeous son to be the one ordered to strike the killing blow.

Eros has no problem shedding blood. But when it comes time to take out his latest target, he can't do it. Confused by his reaction to Psyche, he does the only thing he can think of to keep her safe: he marries her. Psyche vows to make Eros's life a living hell until they find a way out of this mess. But as lines blur and loyalties shift, she realizes he might take her heart after all...and she's not sure she can survive the loss. Book 3: Wicked Beauty [Helen, Patroclus & Achilles]

In Olympus, you either have the power to rule...or you are ruled. Achilles Kallis may have been born with nothing, but as a child he vowed he would claw his way into the poisonous city's inner circle. Now that a coveted role has opened to anyone with the strength to claim it, he and his partner, Patroclus Fotos, plan to compete and double their odds of winning.

Neither expect infamous beauty Helen Kasios to be part of the prize...or for the complicated fire that burns the moment she looks their way.

Zeus may have decided Helen is his to give to away, but she has her own plans. She enters into the competition as a middle finger to the meddling Thirteen rulers, effectively vying for her own hand in marriage. Unfortunately, there are those who would rather see her dead than lead the city. The only people she can trust are the ones she can't keep her hands off—Achilles and Patroclus. But can she really believe they have her best interests at heart when every stolen kiss is a battlefield? Book 4: Radiant Sin [Cassandra & Apollo]

There's nowhere more dangerous than Olympus...and no one more captivating than its golden god: Apollo. Keeper of secrets, master of his shining realm...and the only man I am powerless to deny.

As a disgraced member of a fallen house, Cassandra Gataki has seen firsthand what comes from trusting the venomous Thirteen. But when the maddeningly gorgeous and kind Apollo asks her to go undercover as his plus-one at a week-long party hosted by a dangerous new power player…Cassandra reluctantly agrees to have his back.

On one condition: when it's all over, and Apollo has the ammunition he needs to protect Olympus, she and her sister will be allowed to leave. For good.

Apollo may be the city's official spymaster, but it's his ability to inspire others that keeps him at the top. Despite what the rest of Olympus says, there's no one he trusts more than Cassandra. Yet even as their fake relationship takes a wicked turn for the scaldingly hot, a very real danger surfaces… threatening not only Cassandra and Apollo, but the very heart of Olympus itself.

I can't wait to dig in and let you all know what I think and why yall should read this series if you love romance and Greek myths!

[rosietrace]

Camilla Marigold

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“Look into my eyes. And tell me I'm not wretched.”

— Camilla Marigold, serpent's gambit

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General Information

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Full Name — Camilla Euryale Marigold

↳ Camilla; A name of Italian origin, meaning ‘helper of the priest’. The name is the Feminine form of ‘Camillus’, a term used when referring to a young person serving as a church acolyte in Ancient Roman traditions.

↳ Euryale; A name of Greek origin, meaning ‘far, wide, abroad’. In Greek Mythology, Euryale was one of the three gorgon sisters, consisting of her, Stheno, and Medusa. She and Stheno were immortal, whereas Medusa was not.

↳ Marigold; From the name of the flower, the name Mary, and the English word Gold. Marigolds are typically symbolic of positive feelings like joy and excitement.

Japanese ver. — カミラ マリゴルド

Romaji ver. — Kamira Marigorudo

Twisted from: Medusa

❐ — Greek Mythology

V/A(日本語): [ Has yet to be decided… ]

↳

V/A(英語/EN): Amber Lee Connors

↳ Voices Furina from Genshin Impact

Age: 17

Birthday: June 13th

Horoscope:

Species: Human ✧ Gorgon-ish

Height: 159 cm

Hair color: Blonde

Eye color: Green

Gender/Pronouns: Female, She/Her

Sexuality: Asexual, Panromantic

Dominant hand: Right

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Extra Information

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Homeland: Shaftlands

『 Family:

Ivan Marigold — Father

Velveteen Marigold — Mother

Vivian Marigold — Aunt/Godmother

Victoria Shard — Cousin 』

Dormitory: TBA

School Year: 2nd Year

Class: 2-B(seat no. 30)

Club: None

Best class(es): Debate, language arts

Worst class(es): Music

Like(s): The opera, gossip, ballet, dancing in general, gun-slinging, hairstyling, style analysis, parkour, her serpents, freshly picked flowers, her cousins, archery

Dislike(s): Rumors spread about her, being talked behind her back, ‘him’, poison, split ends, missing a target, bed head, any complaints from her serpents about how she maintains her hair, her scales

Hobbies: Hairstyling, gossiping, dancing, gun-slinging, archery, flower-picking, doing makeup, skincare, singing

Talent(s): Language arts, multilingual, gun-slinging, archery, gaining information, dancing, hairstyling (.... Mostly)

Flaw(s): Self-indulgent, manipulative, defensive, two-faced, hypocritical, merciless, persistent, self-conscious

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Personality

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Camilla's sociable. Very sociable. Easy to talk to, understanding of the feelings of others, with a certain air to her that makes one want to be as close to her as possible.

She just….. She was just so approachable, y'know? Even now, in the present day, students flock to her for the sole reason being just how ‘approachable’ she was.

Of course, judging a book based on how pretty the cover is is never going to come with a good outcome. At least not all the time.

It just happens to be that way in Camilla's case.

Perhaps it'd be best to keep one's secrets away from her ears. For all you know, you'll start walking the halls filled with caution, just to hear your secrets spread around the hallway, lined with students.

She may come off as trustworthy, but that doesn't mean she's always like that.

And it's probably best not to go and confront her about her nature, too. She's willing to take the defensive and use your words against you — placing herself in the right, and you in the wrong.

With how popular Camilla is, don't be surprised if her admirers start harassing you for ‘disrespecting’ their Angel. She's far too aware of the power she holds over others, and isn't afraid to use it against those deeming her below their level.

…. Not to say she doesn't hate herself in the same way people hate her, of course.

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Unique Magic: Snake Eyes (一のゾロ目)

𓆙 Allows the user to turn their hair into snakes, and when making eye contact with said user, one will be turned into stone.

Only the user is capable of undoing the effects of their ability, and any attempts will otherwise be fruitless.

Depending on the hair length of the user, the hair will usually grow on its own shortly before it transforms into snakes. Especially if the user (like Camilla) has short hair.

The only downside to this ability is that when it's activated, the user can turn themselves into stone by looking at their reflection.

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Thoughts on them

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“Camilla is an endearing figure in the family.. She isn't afraid to speak her truth and is all around a good person at heart. Alas, it's best not to break her heart, romantic or not. After what happened with him, her parents don't want Camilla to get hurt again.”

— Victoria Shard, Camilla's cousin

“‘Milla can be honest, most of the time. But when it comes down to her own entertainment, she tends to lie more than she speaks the truth. Not that I'd care, but…. I often wonder what got her to be the way she is.”

— Mercury Von Monarch, Camilla's younger cousin

“Ugh! I can't stand that girl! She's always acting so high and mighty that I can't help but want to rip her throat out every time she opens her mouth! If you ask me, don't even try getting close to her. You'll just get hurt in the process.”

— Davidson Novellion, Camilla's upperclassman

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Additional Trivia

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✑ Main Theme: Put Me in a Movie by Lana Del Rey

✑ Backstory: 『 A serpent's tongue 』

✑ OC Playlist: TBA

༝ㅤ･. ↯ㅤ˚ㅤ↳。ㅤ.ㅤ𓆙⋆ㅤ

𓆙 Camilla used to be an aspiring theater actress until the age of seventeen, for seemingly unknown reasons.

𓆙 Rumors have been swirling around that the reason Camilla no longer does any theater productions is because of a well-renowned director who died of heart disease shortly after Camilla quit.

𓆙 Everything Camilla knows about gun-slinging and archery is thanks to her father, Ivan! It was always a blast when it came to learning these things with her father, even if she accidentally shot him in the foot when she was 12.

𓆙 Her singing voice is horrible. When she and her cousins were younger, they'd often have karaoke nights during family gatherings, even inviting Zen at times. And…. Well, let's just say no one could handle listening to her singing.

𓆙 She's actually unaware of how terrible everyone thinks her singing is! And, additionally….. Camilla's a bit tone-deaf when it comes to music 💀

𓆙 Dancing became a hobby for Camilla when she first saw her parents waltzing together. They had that all-encompassing, fairytale, Not-Even-Our-Kids-Can-Compare kind of love; and she always wanted a love just like theirs. And she expresses that want in the way she dances.

𓆙 ….. Dancing quickly became Camilla's escape from the world after what happened with ‘him’.

𓆙 Camilla is fluent in three languages, in total! English, Japanese, and Greek!

𓆙 She adores her snakes. Her snakes share similar traits to her in terms of personality, and you can guarantee that she's gossiping with them during lunch breaks.

Camilla's tags

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Appearance

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#camilla marigold • #『 camilla 🐍 』

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[themidnightcleric]

red state fagdyke blues

i left.

i didn't do much else to speak of. some stayed and made it work. some died. some like it, still, choose to sail by the hollows, to touch and give a stranger poppers on the dance floor.

i left.

ever since, i've been getting angrier by the day. no. my body is finally birthing chunks of anger frozen on the bottom of my soul. glacial ice spiting up from cold depths of a melting iceberg and splashing everybody. as the anger hits the surface the sun touches it, melting it, cooling the surrounding water, pushing boats away.

how i have wanted to be touched and feared it. fear the melting, the puddle i will become, the mocking, the need.

every movement begins in its opposition and i began in opposition to myself.

under erasure, below the line where the prism of light creates itself, in shadow, in a rotting refrigerator door. i festered. i oozed. it was not pretty, but it never looked as ugly as it felt.

i'd rather be thrown out than stay rotting in a drawer with someone, scared to really touch eachother. i guess what i'm saying is, fuck you, and i pray for you every night to make it.

the grecian choir in my head chants traditions to me and i repeat them: i am selfish. i am useless. i am wrong and i am frightening. i never do as i intend, or am told to do without pain to guide me. i lose almost every game i play.

and i will keep playing. there will be a day to see the "game over" screen a final time, there will be curtains, but today i have not yet begun to play. when my heart runs over the surface of the past like a finger over cut glass, it must go gently and slow as the shore beating glass into something smooth and gorgeous. life beats us and we wear like leather and denim. someday i will write you all an apology letter that becomes an anthem of this anger, and then i'll burn it to keep warm.

it's still cold up here, but people's stares don't pin you quite the same. some places allow butterflies, and beetles. some places kill anything that moves outside its prescribed allotment.

i'm tasting anger. it tastes like my own bleeding gums and self respect. it tastes like fuck you, and it feels like fuck me, please, daddy, please, and the burning shame that follows. chaser, then a whiskey -

see how, if medusa swallowed her own shame instead of wearing it, her mouth brimming with snakes, she would use a mirror to sneak down the alleyways in shadow, afraid that every look

would turn her head to stone.

[lady-charinette]

The Beast in Her Home Chapter 14

Chapter 14

‘The loyal man lives no longer than the traitor pleases.’ – Spanish proverb

“Beni…” the purr of his name from her lips did nothing to soothe the violent tremble deep in his bones, it took all of his willpower to remain where he was, unmoving and bowed submissively.

One wrong move could trigger his execution.

And with the most recent developments, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was today.

Lila Rossi flipped her hair over her shoulder, the wavy chestnut locks resembling snakes. One look from her left Beni ice cold as if turned to stone, he wouldn’t be surprised if she revealed she was Medusa herself.

Loud clicking sounds ripped Beni from his thoughts and he was face to face with Lila’s black heels.

If he could bow his head any deeper, he would. Keeping his head pressed to the ground, Beni breathed, “Mistress,” silence followed his words and he fought down a whimper, “I…I have-I have news from Chat Noir.”

A hum filled the room, before Lila motioned with her foot for Beni to rise to his knees. He did so immediately, his eyes solely trained on Lila.

An easygoing smile painted her lips, but her eyes promised certain punishment if she didn’t like what she heard.

Beni knew she wouldn’t.

Before he could answer, he heard another clicking noise, metallic in nature.

It was the sound of Marco Vanetti’s golden zippo lighter and Beni could feel his heart picking up speed again.

Whenever he would open and close the cap on the lighter, it signified the man’s growing impatience and ire and the best advice to make him stop was to quickly comply with whatever he wanted.

The lighter was something akin to a ticking time bomb, signaling to other members of the mafia, usually the soldiers, to kill the person responsible for invoking their boss’ wrath. Other sources close to the boss and underboss said the lighter was a way Marco Vanetti tried to calm himself before he gave into his rage.

The clicks of the lighter were the seconds left to his life.

Beni’s lips trembled, but he clenched his fists and spoke through grit teeth, his voice lowering to the tone Chat Noir had used to relay his message, “Signora Rossi, it’s been a while since we last saw each-other. How is Marco doing? Still wringing the necks of misfits? Tell him to choose his cubs more carefully next time, th-this one spoke as soon as I cracked a rib. If you try to impersonate one of my people again, I’ll be forced to pay your little f-family a visit and I doubt you’re bulletproof.”

Beni quickly clammed his mouth shut, knees and hands shaking in suspense when silence followed his message. He hoped his mistress wouldn’t ask any questions, but that would be too gracious.

Lila’s lips formed into a thin line, moving closer to the terrified man and deceptively gently cupping his jaw, “Mi topolino,” her honeyed voice briefly calmed his frayed nerves, until her long nails suddenly dug into his skin painfully. “Chi cazzo credi di essere? You’re not telling me the whole truth, what else did he say?”

The metallic click clack of Marco’s lighter started again and Beni could feel the sweat rolling off his back like a river.

The grip on his jaw tightened in warning and Beni found it difficult to swallow his saliva when he finally spoke in a hushed whimper, “M-Mistress, that- that stronzo said something I would never dare!”

“It’s his words, not yours, so tell me, mi topolino.” Lila smiled soothingly again, but the hand holding his jaw was unrelenting.

Finally, Beni spoke, tears filling his eyes, “Vattelo a pigliare in culo, porca puttana.” A shaky breath finally left Beni’s chest, as if relieved from the burden of keeping the filthy words at bay.

He bowed his head deeply again, tears streaming down his face, “Ti chiedo perdono, signora!”

Beni felt like ice cold water was dumped on him, he couldn’t tell if it was his own sweat, or if someone had dumped water on him, but he felt like pinprick needles traveled all over his body.

And then, Marco Vanetti tossed his lighter next to Beni.

A streak of fire traveled along the ground towards him and the streak burst into flames.

He leaped to the side. Away from the path of fire, but the flame latched onto his foot.

The scream that tore itself from his throat turned into agonized shrieks the more the fire burned his body. Pink flesh turned black as his fingers dug into the unforgiving ground.

With an anguished scream, his head hit the ground with a thud, blood trickling down his forehead and fueling the flames.

Bang! Bang!

Beni’s shaking form finally stilled, the flames still burning brightly, accompanied by the smell of gunpowder in the air.

Lila Rossi stepped away from the dead man, walking towards the vacant chair at the top of the room. Her husband dutifully stood next to it, surrounded by their family members.

She watched the spectacle, the fire reflected from her unwavering gaze, her nails digging into the palms of her hand in silent rage.

A larger hand engulfed hers, lovingly prying her fingers open and kissing the forming bruises along the inside of her palm tenderly. Lila smiled, moving her hand to trace her husband’s jaw and neck adoringly, “Mio cucciolo, I would’ve needed him a bit longer.” 

Marco smiled, massaging his wife’s hand, “Tesoro, I’m sorry but I can’t tolerate any insults at my wife, even if he was only relaying them.”

She chuckled, not at all annoyed at his interference, “Hmm…you know what they say about killing the messenger.” She batted her eyelashes at him, raising a brow in question.

Marco laughed, a rich deep sound that always made Lila’s chest feel lighter. “We have more than enough eyes and ears to use. Not to mention, Chat Noir most likely expected it, given his…message.”

Lila could feel her husband’s hand twitch, a sign of his growing anger, and tapped him twice. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave him a message he won’t forget.”

Lila stood up from her seat as the corpse of Beni continued to burn, smirking at the sight. “I don’t play the game, unless I make the rules.”

-

The ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room, its rhythmic noise gnawing steadily at Chat Noir’s nerves the more time passed. The morning sun was already peeking through the drawn blinds.

Finally, the criminal broke the silence. “So…where’s the lady cop?”

The two figures eating and drinking at the table ignored him, or at least that’s what he thought until both answered in unison with a curt. “Out.”

Chat Noir frowned at the cryptic answer, “…When will she be back?” he asked.

Again, Kim and Ivan answered in unison, “Later.”

The blond rolled his eyes, “You’re worse than Tweedle Dee and Twedlee Dum. Do you have to answer everything at the same time?” he snapped, chains jiggling as he gesticulated with his hands violently.

Just to spite him, it seemed, their response seemed a given. “No.”

Chat Noir released a long groan and pulled the covers over his head, ignoring his growling stomach, trying to tune out the childish snickers in the background.

He hoped the lady cop would hurry, wherever she was.

-

“Glad you could make it, Marinette.” It was Juleka who greeted her first, Marinette returning the greeting before she set her bag down near the door.

“Thanks for working overtime on this Juleka, I promise I’ll treat you to lunch!” Marinette chirped, embracing the other woman in a friendly hug.

Juleka returned the hug before she motioned for Marinette to follow, passing by numerous test tubes, vials and other fragile-looking equipment in her lab.

“Speaking of treat, don’t you have this thing going on with my brother?” the knowing tone in the forensic pathologist’s voice made Marinette’s skin crawl.

“Thing?!” Marinette jumped in surprise, hands gesticulating wildly. “I mean, we-we are just- you know, we’ve-“

The other woman cleared her throat, giving Marinette a pointed look. “Breakfast?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah! Yeah, I just- I really wanted to see the results.” The embarrassed, awkward smile was gone in a second and the serious cop returned, “So, what did you find?” Marinette took a seat opposite of Juleka, a wide metal table in between them.

The scent of chemicals filled her nose unpleasantly, along with various other smells Marinette wasn’t sure she wanted a label to. She had great respect for her friend for working in an environment like this, not that Marinette’s was any prettier, but that smell could disturb the dead from their graves.

Juleka snapped her gloves back on, a sharp sound that brought Marinette back to reality. She was retrieving several things from within a drawer and spreading them all across the table in front of the lieutenant. “So, I analyzed everything you sent me. Since the burn victims’ bodies were too burnt to extract much concrete DNA from them, I did manage to find something with the help of a colleague.” Juleka held up a plastic bag, marked in sharpie “18-666 fingerprints”.

Marinette blinked. “It’s Chat Noir’s DNA, isn’t it?”

So, he was the culprit, after all.

Juleka held up a hand as if sensing Marinette’s thoughts. “Yes and no.” She presented another zip bag, filled with a near black item that resembled a burnt twig. “See this? A part of the burnt victim’s bones, it’s from one of the adult women. With burn victims, you can tell how long at what temperatures they were burned in by the coloration of the bones. It’s difficult to accurately measure in this case, but from what my colleague found, they were burned over a certain period of time at a high temperature, something akin to a furnace or-“

“-a cremation oven.” Marinette blurted out the first thing that came to mind and her heart sunk.

Juleka didn’t see the expression on Marinette’s face, but she didn’t need to. She felt the same horror rushing through her, “If the killer has access to people in these fields…”

“…Then Chat Noir isn’t the killer.”

At this, Juleka turned to face her friend, “He was at the scene, or at least he came to the scene after they were already dead. At least, the possibility is there.” Juleka gesticulated over the photos of the burn victims taken at the crime scene, “If Chat Noir had been the killer, his DNA wouldn’t have been so clear on the corpses. It appeared too fresh, like it was planted on the bodies after they had already been burned. However, he was apprehended at the scene.”

There was a long pause where Juleka collected her thoughts, before her eyes snapped away from the photos and back to her friend. “But do tell, how are you so sure Chat Noir didn’t do it?”

Marinette shook her head, “Not many people know this, but Chat Noir never colluded with people outside of his circle, he has contacts, but…his contacts are the lower class, laborers, criminals like him. He also avoids doing business with death like the plague, so him having friends who cremate the dead seems unlikely, according to everything we’ve known up until now.”

Juleka crossed her arms, watching Marinette deep in thought. “I’ll send my findings over, tell Luka he’ll expect them on his desk in the morning.”

“So, you think it was a set up? That Chat Noir got called, possibly baited, to come to the scene after the fire was set and the people killed?”

Juleka inhaled sharply through her nose, fingers tapping the document in her hands. “…I can’t confirm nor deny it but…its possible.”

All Marinette could do was nod before she left the laboratory, with more questions in her mind than she entered with.

-

“Back so soon?” Luka was on his second cup of coffee by the time Marinette arrived.

Marinette’s smile was sheepish, quickly taking off her jacket and shoes before joining Luka at the table.

“Sorry, Juleka had some interesting findings about the case, she said she’ll send them to you as soon as possible.” Marinette busied herself with filling her plate with delicious pancakes, her cup already filled with hot coffee, courtesy of Luka.

The ex-marine watched his longtime friend curiously, finishing his sip before inquiring, “…Nothing interesting you’d like to share?”

Marinette startled, as if waking from a deep sleep, before her eyes finally met his. “…I’m not sure.” Luka recognized this behavior, Marinette always acted like this when she was unsure about a case, unsure of what were facts and lies.

“Anything I can do to help?” Luka’s hand found hers on the table, squeezing it affectionately, the warmth from his skin warming her entire body.

The question lingered in the air between them, an unspoken offer of something Marinette wished was more than it really could be between them. More that would’ve been possible years ago, a possibility of something more that died when they both took on this job.

With a deep sigh that killed the tension in her shoulders and seemed to finally relax her, Marinette turned her hand to grasp Luka’s own, returning the squeeze and tracing the callouses and lines on his hand.

The unexpected touch flustered Luka more than he would admit out loud, he was thankful he didn’t blush easily, or he would be permanently red in Marinette’s presence.

The smile she bestowed him with made the room light up, the sun’s rays seemed brighter, Luka’s heart felt lighter too. “Maybe.”

A soft chuckle was the only sound that left his lips, their hands still entwined on the table as they chatted about the day ahead and the promise of a future date.

Translations:

Mi topolino (ital.) – my little mouse

Mi tesoro (ital.) – my treasure

Chi cazzo credi di essere? (ital.) - Who the fuck do you think you are?

Stronzo (ital.) – asshole, bastard

Vattelo a pigliare in culo (ital.) - Go take it up your ass

Porca puttana – pig slut

Ti chiedo perdono – I ask for forgiveness.

Its been 84 years but here is the latest chapter, hope you guys like it! :3

[lala-writes-fetish]

This house will be your new forever home. If you are worthy.

In this very tame little snippet, two of our main characters meet for the first time. Are you looking forward to MEDUSA?

The voice from his smartphone told him to turn onto Wilshire Boulevard, and he realized that it had directed him out of the city center and into a suburb. He read the street signs, and although he demonstratively resisted being able to orient himself in this grey city, he recognized some of the names: Clarke-Ring, Veenhouse Alley, Ninneman Road. The prosperous, dusty north of the city. He dimly recalled a conversation with Luisa and her friends about a man from this area whom one of them was lusting after. No significant detail must have dropped, because if it had, he would have remembered the conversation better. His car crested a small hilltop.

The houses to the left and right were well kept and marked the visual transition from feudal single-family home to mansion. As a tenant, he could have afforded one of them if Luisa had had a similarly well-paying job, he surmised while turning left as the light turned green.

“You will arrive at your destination in two miles,” his smartphone announced.

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s almost in the woods,” he mumbled to his car’s dashboard.

“Well, fuck me,” he remarked to that same dashboard two kilometers later. He had reached his destination. “I didn’t know Count Dracula needed a website.” He drove through a gated stone archway toward a huge mansion that might as well call itself a castle with impunity. Gravel crunched beneath the tires of his station wagon. Cultivated meadows lined the gently curving driveway. A giant weeping willow dipped its branches into an almost black pond. A woman in coveralls stood in its midst, clearing it of duckweed by means of what looked like a giant, netted spoon. The sun was shining on a small park area that included the lake and the weeping willow. The other houses in the area were two hundred yards down the road. Anyone who wanted to reach the archway had to take one last steep turn and head straight for it.

He stopped in a large courtyard in front of the massive, wooden front door. A stone staircase rose in five steps toward the portal. The only thing missing, Peter contemplated in a mixture of excitement and a little irony, were two grotesque lion statues with their paws on weathered globes, and the luxurious private home of a James Bond villain would have been complete. A sculpture above the grand portal exuded diabolical flair: the beautiful, yet distorted with rage, face of a Medusa gazed down on the courtyard, the serpents around her head craning their necks, ready to lunge forward. Peter got out of his car and shouldered the carrying case for his laptop. When he pressed the button on the key, the blinkers lit up, and the portal opened.

A good-looking woman in a pastel, knee-length dress appeared on the steps. Her dark blonde hair ought to have seemed ordinary, but lovely waves in it promised the unbridled joie de vivre of a wild mop of curls without robbing its owner of the grace of straight hair. She smiled from a beautiful face with bright brown eyes to which the sunlight gave the glow of wild honey. Peter prided himself on his vocabulary, and the best description for this woman seemed to be “otherworldly.” The spectacular blonde cast challenging waves that played the eye, and she shared the light brown of her eyes with innumerable people, but they had a depth that made prolonged eye contact a risk.

“I’ve gotta say,” Peter explained, surprised at his own bravado, “This house would fit an older gentleman with a white cat in his lap, dramatically turning in his office chair. ‘Welcome to my secret base, Special Agent.’”

Jana put her head back and laughed out loud. Her bell-bright voice made Peter smile involuntarily. “Maybe I’m just the supervillain’s charming secretary, Mr. Wartmann.”

He shook his head. “I’ll eat my hat if you’re anyone’s secretary, Mrs.…?”

She tilted her head gently, the waves of her hair seconding the almost imperceptible movement. Peter’s gaze subconsciously slid up to the Medusa above her. “Ms. Jana,” she said, and they shook hands.

I may as well have introduced myself by Winnie the Pooh, Peter thought and snorted audibly.

His hostess sassily raised her eyebrows. “Don’t worry. I have a last name, which you’ll find out, of course… if we get down to business.”

He nodded with a smile, enjoying the amusing exchange. “Why did I imagine the head of the mysterious ladies of the house to be exactly like that?”

She smiled broadly. “Because you are a smart man, Mr. Wartmann. Please,” she said, pointing to the portal, “I have coffee made.”

You better believe funny Mr. Wartmann is going to remember his stay in the house. This is MEDUSA.