#PLUTO COMING IN CLUTCH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

celticcrossanon · 1 year

Text

BRF Reading - 13th of April, 2023

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 13th of April, 2023

Question: Why is Harry coming to the coronation?

Note: I am using all upright cards for this reading.

Interpretation: He has a variety of reasons for attending, and none of them involve supporting his father.

Card One: The Magician.

This is a major arcana card, so it is a strong energy in the reading. The Magician is the card of manifestation. Harry is coming because he wants to manifest something. It may be that sprinkle of royal fairy dust that he needs, or it may be something else. There is something that he wants and he needs to see his family to make it happen. It is the family that is standing out as important, not the coronation - he needs to be with the family in a situation where they can't avoid him. For some reason this will help him manifest something.

The Magician can be a trickster, a con merchant, and there is a bit of sleazy energy around this card - not all of it, but it is definitely there - so Harry may try to 'pull a fast one' to get what he wants, i.e. indulge in some trickery or some not altogether legitimate practises (the word 'lying' came into my mind as I typed that) to get what he wants.

Card Two: The Ace of Cups.

This is a card of fertility, of pregnancy, of children, and of a new start in a relationship or a new relationship. In this reading, the energy coming off the card is "I need to be loved". Harry is coming to the coronation for reassurance that his family still cares about him. I'm not getting 'a new start in the relationship' energy, unfortunately.

The image in my mind is of a child clutching onto his parent and crying, desperate to be reassured that they are loved, no matter what they have done. I can see a broken vase behind the child, with the water spilt, and other items that have been broken as well. I am interpreting this as Harry wanting to be loved by his family despite everything that he has done to hurt them. There is no indication of him changing his ways, just a need for reassurance that he is still loved despite everything he has done in the past (and will continue to do in the future, I assume).

I'm also getting some child energy off this card, so Harry's attendance at the coronation may have something to do with his children.

Card Three: The Two of Swords.

This is a card about having to make a difficult decision. This tells me that deciding to attend the coronation was a difficult decision for Harry, but this card is also about the future. Either there is a difficult decision for Harry coming up in the future, and he needs his family's support to make that decision, or the family has a difficult decision to make about Harry and he is hoping to influence them in his favour, or both. There is some sort of decision looming and it is important for Harry that he is seen with his family before he makes that decision, or that he sees them before they make a decision about him.

I'm leaning towards the latter situation, that a decision is going to be made about Harry by the royal family, because of the next card, which is one of the cards that represents King Charles.

Card Four: Judgement.

This is the second major arcana card in this reading, and with the Magician it will be a strong energy in this reading. Judgement is the card of, well, judgement, of being judged for your actions by someone or someones (like the general public). It is also a card of having an awakening and a card of second chances. Judgement is the card of the planet Pluto, which is the ruler of the sign Scorpio, the sun sign of King Charles.

I am getting Pluto energy from this card, so I am reading this card as representing King Charles.

The energy of this card is linked to the decision card in front of it (the Two of Swords), and that energy is also linked to King Charles. It is not just King Charles, the energy is spread over other people as well, with King Charles as the one with the power to make the decision happen in real life. The decision that is to be made will be influenced by how other people have judged Harry, including (I think) the general public.

I think that there is going to be some sort of decision made by the royal family about Harry, and King Charles is the one with the power to carry out the decision. It could be about Harry returning to the UK (having a second chance), or it could be something else or somethings else.

If you look at the card, the figure of Mercury in the helmet and the red cloak represents King Charles, and Harry is one of the bandaged figures rising up and reaching out to Mercury/King Charles. Mercury was the messenger god, so King Charles has a message for Harry, but I don't know if it is a No and Harry is begging him to change his mind, or if it is a yes and Harry gets his second chance or whatever it is he wants. It could be two or more different things, with a different answer/message for each request. Harry will be judged based on his past actions, and any decision handed down will be influenced by that judgement.

Card Five: The Eight of Cups

This is a card of loss, of walking away from something. The card shows Psyche walking into the underworld, having first stripped herself of all earthly possessions (status, titles, wealth etc) as represented by the eight cups. The word that resonates for me with this card is abandonment. I think that Harry will have to abandon something, however much it causes him pain/loss/grief to do so, because of the Judgement/decision passed on him by King Charles, as per the previous card.

I say abandon because whatever it is, Harry will have to give it up completely. He can't just put it down and go back to it later; it has to be left behind for good. This abandonment could be part of a second chance that is given to him by his family, or it could be part of a decision that they make about him, a decision that he is trying to influence in his favour.

Underlying Energy: The Seven of Swords.

This is not a good underlying energy. The Seven of Swords is the Thief card, the card of betrayal, trickery, deception, getting away with something. Harry is not going to the coronation with good intentions. He is not going to support his father. He is going with a mindset of deception, lies, and deceit. He is going to use trickery and deception to get what he wants.

The cards shows Orestes sneaking into a city to kill his mother for murdering his father. Harry is prepared to figuratively 'kill' his father by trying to destroy his reputation - to get what he (Harry) wants, for revenge, or just because he feels like trying to ruin the coronation.

Underlying Energy Two: The Four of Pentacles.

This is a card of hanging on to what you have and not letting it go. Harry is not going to let go of anything that he has, he is going to hang on to it and fight to keep it. The image on the card shows Daedalus clutching pentacles to his chest while he looks at his nephew, a young man more skilled than Daedalus in the art of creating things and someone who Daedalus will kill out of envy and jealousy. We have the death of a relative repeated in the story of this card and the one before. Here the nephew who is killed is representing not a parent, but a sibling, i.e. William. Harry will try to destroy his brother if he (Harry) thinks that will enable him to keep what he has and/or to gain more in the future.

Conclusion.

There are three energies in this reading in answer to the question of why Harry is attending the coronation. None of them are to support his father, despite what Harry's PR says.

The first energy is to manifest something. Harry needs to be seen at the coronation and with his family so he can manifest something. He may need to talk to his family in a situation where they can not avoid him. There is a good chance that Harry will use deception or trickery, and/or lie, to try and manifest what he wants.

The second energy has two parts. The first part is about children, so Harry's attendance may have something to do with his children. The second energy is a desperate need to know that his family loves him and supports him, even as he plans to lie and deceive them to get what he wants out of them. It is as though the moment his family says 'of course we still love you', Harry feels absolved of all his sins against them and feels that he has been given permission to hurt and deceive them again.

The third energy is that of a decision that is going to be made about Harry or about something that concerns Harry. It will be made by King Charles, and it will be a result of the judgement passed on Harry by his family and by the general public, a judgement based on Harry's past actions. This may be a second chance for Harry, or it may be a decision based on his past actions, as a consequences of what he has done. The decision may affect his children (the Ace of Cups card). I can't tell which one it is, or whether it will be in Harry's favour or not. It may be more than one decision.

There is an energy of loss that is related to this decision/judgement energy. I think that Harry will be asked to give up something for good as a condition of a decision being made in his favour. However, we can see from the underlying energy that Harry has no intention of giving up anything that he sees as his, so I don't think this condition will be met, even if Harry agrees to it.

Underneath all these energies is an energy of deception, of deceit, lying and theft, of holding on to what you have and maybe stealing some more for yourself. Harry is not going to the coronation with an open mind and heart. he is going to lie, deceive, and trick his family into giving him what he wants. He has no intention of giving up anything that he sees as his, and he is willing to 'kill' both his father and his brother to keep what he has and to get what he wants.

Five out of the seven cards in this reading have death energy, either as part of their usual meaning (Judgement, 8 of Cups) or as part of the story depicted on the card (2 of Swords - the argument shown on the cards leads to the death of Iphigenia, her father Agamemnon, and her mother Clytemnestra; Judgement - the card shows the underworld, the home of the dead and the card is associated with Pluto, the ruler of the underworld; 8 of Cups - the cards shows a descent into the underworld, the home of the dead; 7 of Swords - Orestes is going to kill his mother, Clytemnestra; 4 of Pentacles - Daedalus will kill his nephew out of envy and jealousy). It is very possible that something will die, figuratively, as a result of Harry attending the coronation.

97 notes · View notes

happyk44 · 10 months

Text

It should've been weirder.

That was the ongoing thought that ran through his head the last few days. It should've been weirder.

New Rome and Camp Jupiter tried to be as self-sustaining as they could, but it wasn't like they could completely cut themselves off from the rest of civilization. They had needs to provide for. Ceres' children operated a small farm just outside the city and they would sell vegetables year round. It wasn't much but it helped bolster their economy. Other than that, they were very lucky to receive subsidies from the gods to help.

The benefits of having all their children stuck in one place, Jason guessed.

At first, he didn't know why Pluto stopped sending them money though. Sure, they still had assistance from the others but Pluto was the god of wealth. His assistance was far greater than what the others could, and did, provide.

But for whatever reason they had been unceremoniously dumped out of the god's good graces and were floundering. Maintenance supplies were running thin. The farm wasn't producing as well as it normally was in the blanket heat wave that was going on.

Training had decreased with the need to maintain limited supplies. The god also provided precious metals to craft and repair armour and weapons.

Vulcan had been suggested to appeal to until one of the older members of the Senate noted that Vulcan also tended to gain most of his crafting supplies from his uncle.

So they were screwed. It was one thing to ask for help from a god. It was another thing to ask for help from Pluto. Sure, he was wealth and everything under the earth but he was also the dead and darkness. Inviting one had the risk of bringing upon the other.

But, when push came to shove, they were not wimpy Greeks. They wouldn't fear him and avoid him. They would invoke him if they had to.

They would request help.

And they did.

At a cost.

The god had appeared when summoned, papers clutched in his hands, eyes dark and angry. He was tall and lithe. Black robes dripped off him like shadows. His wrists shone with golden bracelets. An obsidian chain hung loose around his neck, glinting a soft silver flower pendant against the hollow of his throat.

Power hung in the air. It was overwhelming, catching around Jason's head like a fog. Everyone else in the area was affected too, knees shaking.

Death and money and power - unending, weren't they?

For a moment, Jason wondered if his father was really the most powerful god. Or if he had sentenced his oldest brother to the deepest depths to maintain that lie?

Pluto glowered at them all but heard them out. And merely shrugged when they asked for him to resume his help.

"Why should I?" he had mused. He eyed them all slow. "I assisted in the past because I had stake in this place. My children, my wife's children - do you see them around you now?"

Pluto never had many kids to begin with. His last child died about a decade before in the middle of a rescue mission. And while Proserpina tended to have one or two demigods per lifetime, her current daughter was her only living mortal child.

And she had finished out her service with the legion weeks ago but chose to attend a university outside the city. Somewhere closer to her mortal father.

It was unclear if she ever intended to return for anything more than a passing visit.

"If Claire so chooses to return, perhaps I will continue my help but until that time, I have no interest or need to do so." He clicked his tongue. "Is that understood?"

It was.

Unfortunately.

"And if Claire doesn't return?" Reyna cleared her throat. "No offense to any other deity, all your help is appreciated, but you, Lord Pluto, have been much better at providing funding. We cannot make up the sudden slack on our own and we have tried these last few weeks."

“We're not greedy” was the hidden meaning behind her words.

"If your economy is dependent on one source, especially a source that can come and go as it pleases, it's not much of an effective economy, now is it? Perhaps you should have set aside savings for this exact problem." His eyes caught Reyna's.

It took her a moment before she relented and averted her gaze. "You provided my children and step-children with a safe haven and I thank you for that. But you don't do so now so I have no need to thank you anymore. Perhaps you will have to beg for heartier help from your own parents' and ancestors', rather than pull me from my work and demand mine without any offer of reciprocity."

“We did plan on offering you our services, Lord Pluto,” Octavian lied, because, no, they hadn’t. “But if there anything else we may offer you, we would be grateful to.”

Pluto regarded him like a bug. “Legacy of that blasted sun.” He rolled his eyes. “Just as annoying as he is, I see.” Octavian’s face flushed a dark red. His pale skin looked as though it had been heavily bruised.

“Your ancestor has one thing going for him that I appreciate though.” His eyes cut into Octavian’s, a sardonic curl to his lips. “He’s honest."

He didn’t want to but Jason was on track for praetorship and what good of a leader would he be if he left a member of his legion floundering?

“Forgive him, my lord,” he cut in, stepping forward. The god’s attention mercifully snapped to him. “As prophet, I assume he saw us offering you something in the near future and simply misjudged the timing.”

The cynical glint to the god’s face didn’t vanish but amusement plied on top of it. A chill slid down Jason’s spine.

“My little brother’s latest brat,” he hummed. Jason startled at the degradation but found, oddly, he didn’t mind it. Pluto raked his gaze over Jason’s form. A sensation of being pervaded, picked apart, hit him.

The god was looking too deep.

Jason wanted to hide himself, his soul, but stood firm and unrelenting.

“I suppose she’ll be fine with it,” Pluto said, voice quiet as though talking to himself. “And he’s been annoying lately.” He cut his focus back to Reyna.

“Well, praetor. I’ll take him.” He gestured loosely at Jason.

Reyna blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“The boy,” Pluto said. ”Don’t make me repeat myself again.” A silver shadow snapped up from beneath his robes and curled around Jason’s jaw, pinching his cheeks. “Yes, I have a fondness for collecting my brother’s children, I suppose you could say.

"One way or another, most of them end up with me. It’s been a while since one came down while living.” The shadow slunk around Jason’s throat. A light grip held against his skin. Coldness bit into his chest, spreading. “And I can see you’ll adjust well, as my wife and her siblings have.”

Panic was breaking out over Reyna’s face. Even Octavian looked baffled - although that was probably more because he didn’t understand why Jason was picked over him.

“Uh, my lord, Jason is-” Reyna gestured weakly into the air. “He’s the ongoing leader of the Fifth Cohort. And his assistance in many of our quests has been in-”

“I don’t care,” Pluto said. “My wife prefers when I keep company during the summer. Mercury has been rather avoidant of late so you’ll have to do.”

Company? “I’m fourteen,” Jason said. The words pretty much leapt out of his mouth without his noticing.

Pluto snorted. The coldness spread even more. “And?”

Reyna’s voice was hard. “He is not an adult - even by the standards of our predecessors!”

"He's a powerful soldier. Age is irrelevant." Pluto barely even looked at her. “Do you want my help or not?”

Her eyes went sharp, her stance tightening. Jason could hear the denial before she even said it. He didn’t give her a chance. “Okay.”

Her head whipped to him, viciously. Octavian glared at him. “Jason-”

“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s just company, right? But-” He rolled his shoulder. “-if I’m needed here, I have to come back. Even if only temporarily.”

“I’ll have each situation that requires you thoroughly vetted then,” Pluto said. “But fine, little demigod. I’ll have Charon pick you up in a week. Be ready. I don’t take to waiting well.”

The shadows vanished but the coldness that had been dipped thick into his chest didn’t. And with that, the god left.

And Jason started packing the moment they returned to the barracks.

It should’ve been weirder. It should’ve felt odd, standing at Terminus’s gate with a packed bag, waiting for the boatman of the Underworld to descend him into the depths of the Underworld and into Pluto’s arms. As it was, it didn’t. Not really.

His life consisted of being raised by wolves and being thrown into godly quests for the sake of both his home and his family. This was nothing by those standards. He did hope “company” was just going to be that, company, and wasn’t a secret euphemism.

If it was, he wasn’t saying jack shit though. Reyna and the whole of his cohort would no doubt go wage war on the god if it was. There were some things that were supposed to be left far, //far// in the past. And some of that shouldn't have existed in the first place.

But the god was known for being unlike the rest of his family, was known for being soberminded. Jason doubted he was being dragged down for his ass. Pluto had said Mercury was being avoidant. Perhaps Jason was going to have to pick up the slack.

"Relax, young Grace," Terminus snapped. His marble shuddered. "I can feel your bad vibes from here."

"I am relaxed," he grumbled.

Reyna scowled at him. She wasn't happy about this. But he didn't let her argue him. Best to stay appealing to the god. When they all died one day, it was he they would be sent to.

None of them needed a mark against them during judgement.

"Don't, Reyna," he grumbled. "Showing favouritism isn't becoming of a praetor."

"It's not favouritism," she said. He rolled his eyes. "I worry. What could a god whose wife is absent want with a fourteen year old boy?"

"My father kidnapped a prince while his wife was still present." Jason scratched at a mosquito bite just above his wrist. "So I think why I'm wanted is irrelevant to whether Proserpina is around or not." Her scowl deepened. "He's not going to do anything to me."

"You don't know that," she muttered.

Terminus heaved out a gravely sigh. "As much as you may find his ongoing puberty changes appealing, Reyna, I assure you that a god such as Pluto does not."

Jason didn't know whether to be offended or not. Reyna looked as though she was calculating the best way to shatter Terminus's face.

"They're not that bad."

"Your voice has cracked at least twelve times since you got here." Terminus sniffed. "It's very annoying. Do it another three to even it out."

Now it was Jason's turn to scowl. "I'm not going to crack my voice just to satisfy your OCD."

"Well, you did it anyway." Jason wondered what the god would do if he smacked him over the head with his bag.

Unfortunately, he didn't get much time to deliberate. A few feet away, the earth rumbled and a figure ascended from the grass and dirt, displacing it all.

Terminus squawked in a rage. "Hey, hey, hey! I just had that spot measured!"

Charon, the boatman of the Underworld, was dressed in a shimmering golden suit. In his left hand was a long obsidian boat paddle. He laid it to rest across his shoulders, head cocked as he took the three of them in. A classy black fedora sat atop his head. Somehow, the brim shielded most of his face from view, but Jason could see the flat line of his lips thin even further.

"Terminus," he said, his voice a near deep growl. "I see your haptics are still ongoing."

"I see your haptics are still ongoing as well."

Charon's shadowed lips curled. "Must look our best to those awaiting passage, mustn't we? But I wouldn't expect a simple headstone to know that."

"Headstone?" Terminus snapped. “Simple?”

Charon ignored him. "Jason Grace, I presume."

Despite Reyna's nervous gaze, Jason stepped forward. The strap of his bag was cutting into his skin as he clenched his hand tight. "Yes."

"Well?" Charon stretched out a gloved hand. "Shall we?"

Jason sent Reyna a fleeting smile and accepted the god's hand. A coldness wrapped all around him like a death shroud and everything vanished into an inky blackness.

They didn't hit the waiting area as Jason was expecting. Instead the darkness shifted to reveal a garden of jewels and gems. Rubies hung from tall poplar trees like apples. Petals of amethyst and topaz glittered from the dark earth below.

Populated between all the shimmering were asphodels and poppies and coveted patches of sweet-smelling lavender. The garden seemed to go on forever, but as he turned around, he came face-to-face with a wide open door.

Charon's empty eyes bore back at him.

His white teeth, pure as fresh bone, smiled back in the most spine-chilling way. He gestured in through the doorway. Instincts roaring at him to avoid, Jason stepped through anyway. The hallway was lit with black flames.

Shades meandered meaninglessly past him and through the walls. A skeletal guard stood across from the doorway.

"This way!" Charon shouted.

Unsettled, Jason followed. They walked past sullen doorways before reaching the end of the hall.

Charon opened the door with a click. Inside the room was brightly lit.

It was a bathroom. Of sorts. It reminded him somewhat of the communal baths at camp and the Wolf House but smaller. Tighter. It smelled sweet, warm fragrances alight in the air.

In the center was a large circular tub. Maybe three people could fit comfortably inside. Devoid of water, the bone white porcelain tiles glittered back at him.

Charon stepped inside, pressing an intercom button against the wall. He gestured for Jason to come in with a nod of his head then yanked him in forcefully when Jason took too long.

"Daisy, he's here." He released the button before another word could be spoken then walked out the doorway. The door slammed shut behind him.

Jitters drew up Jason's throat. He drew himself across the room before settling down on the floor. The door didn't detract from his focus. The air shifted against his skin. Someone was skipping their way to the room.

He tensed as the door swung back open. A nymph stood in front of him now. A crown of asphodels littered her hair. Wreathed around her neck was a choker of diamonds and poppies.

She was dressed in a thick black sweater, long sweatpants and a bone-white apron. Her feet were dirtied and bare.

She snapped her fingers. A series of shades flooded the room. One yanked Jason's bag from his fingertips. Another began pulling him up to his feet. As the tap turned on, the rest began pouring liquids into the bath and pulling out a bunch of supplies out of the nearby cabinets.

"Let's get you scrubbed up," Daisy clipped while the shades tugged at his clothes.

Being naked in front of other people was not a big issue for him. But the act of having himself stripped down for another, without any sense of warning, was not ideal.

"Hey- WAIT-" He slapped at a shade grabbing at his jeans. His hand just sank through their filmy form. "I can do it myself!"

The shade chattered angrily but pulled back. Quickly, Jason shed the rest of his clothes himself. The shade took them and handed them off to Daisy who scowled. “Do you ever clean these?” She sniffed it and shook her head. “Nope!”

“Wha-” A shade shoved him into the tub.

As he resurfaced, coughing and spluttering, he caught sight of Daisy pulling back a piece of floor. He pushed up to see what was below. Shifting red hot flames howled beneath the floor. Then she dumped his clothes into it and closed it back up.

“Hey!”

“The Phlegethon is the only place for those,” she said. “You’ll be fine with what I give you.”

Panic smacked him. “The Phlegethon?”

“How else do you think we heat the place?” She snapped her fingers again. “Somebody grab me a razor. His hair makes me want to vomit.”

Protectively, he sank back to the middle of the tub, hands covering his head. “I just got it cut!”

“Do I look like I give a shit?” A splattering of vined daisies shot out from her fingertips and yanked him back over to her. “Whoever did this was terrible at it. Absolutely disgustingly uneven. I might as well surface and slap them until they perish like they deserve.”

“That’s not-”

“Shut up.”

His shoulders tightened at the order. He resisted the urge to snarl and snap her, going quiet as she threaded her thin fingers through his hair. The razor tickled the back of his neck. Another shade approached him from the front with a pair of scissors. He closed his eyes.

Listening hollowly to the sounds around them, he held himself tight and still.

He was never all that good at getting his hair cut. It required too much trust in someone with something very sharp and deadly and Lupa’s training had instilled in him a general distaste of that.

Which is why he’d started cutting his hair himself. Reyna or Dakota would neaten the sides for him. Quick and precise. Usually while he was biting something to avoid from biting them. It only took a few seconds but it was hell.

A few of the kids Lupa trained had that sort of distrust of people outside their “pack”. Especially if she trained them young, like she had trained Jason. Although she rarely trained kids that young to begin with. Usually only because their families had died or had abandoned them.

#jason x pluto #january 17th 2021 #from the twitter archives #happy talks pjo #jason grace #hades (pjo)#my writing #my fanfic

28 notes · View notes

phoenix-pheces · 1 year

Text

“Our Stolen Moment” - A Nevermore fic from Lenore’s perspective during episodes 26 and 27.

I have absolutely fallen in love with Nevermore, it has a glowing recommendation from me. Please go read the Webtoon if you haven’t!

DISCLAIMER: The four lines of dialogue at the end of this piece are directly quoted from Episode 27 of Nevermore on Webtoon, and are fully attributed to Kate Flynn and Kit Trace.

—————————————

Lenore awoke slowly from the first dreamless sleep she could remember since arriving at Nevermore Academy. The mattress beneath her was cold and stiff. It was impossible to say whether it was the bed or the brutal injuries that caused her to wake in so much pain. She began to roll to her side, and a sharp burning sensation tore through her body. The sensation was irritatingly familiar.

Next to her, Duke grunted in his sleep. His scarlet infirmary blanket had been kicked near the end of the bed sometime in the night. Lenore couldn’t see Pluto from her current position, but she was positive he was responsible for the light snoring wafting through the room.

Wincing, Lenore pushed herself into an upright position. Though the window behind her provided some much needed light, and a stunning view of the stars, the academy’s clock tower was not in view: leaving no way to know the time.

Shit.

The blanket flew to the floor as Lenore tried to get herself out of bed as quickly as she could without alerting anyone else. The last thing she needed was for Nurse Dolly or one of the wisps to discover her roaming the halls so late. The floor felt like ice beneath Lenore’s feet, but the uniforms were still a disaster from their time in the maze. She snatched her blanket from the floor and haphazardly threw it around her shoulders as she made her way out of the infirmary.

Finding her way through the academy miraculously proved manageable. The endless stairs did not. Lenore clutched her hip in one hand and held tight to the railing with the other. Each step worsened the intrusive stinging. If not for her recent recollections, Lenore might have assumed this injury was significantly worsened by the trials of the maze. Even in near death she knew no peace.

Finally, after plenty of tiresome stairs, Lenore found the arboretum. It was lavish, ornate, and had a marvelous view of the academy clock tower.

Which currently read a mocking quarter past eleven.

With spare time, however, came spare musings. Lenore made her way to a large tree in the center of the arboretum. It sat across a koi pond littered with its leaves. Though it pained her greatly, Lenore slowly pushed herself into the upper branches of the tree. The foliage provided an excellent veil, even concealing the blood red of the infirmary blanket. That macabre idea also only crossed Lenore’s mind with such spare time. She distracted herself by attempting to fix the bandages around her thigh, which had slowly loosened themselves during her journey. Though she made very little progress, it provided a much needed distraction. The clock now read ten minutes until midnight.

Let’s see where you really stand, Annabel Lee.

“Lenore?”

The call came a few minutes after midnight. Lenore stayed put. Whether to wait out a potential trap or to try and witness a glimpse at Annabel’s true feelings was anyone’s guess. Annabel began to search the arboretum, and Lenore allowed herself to sneak a glance.

Lenore snapped back against the trunk, her face growing hot. Why had Annabel come in a dressing gown, of all things? Lenore could hardly lecture anyone about dressing modestly, atop a tree in nothing but her undergarments and a blanket. Still, the sight of Annabel never ceased to sabotage Lenore’s pulse. Even her curls looked perfectly set and bound, so as to make for a distractingly picturesque look tomorrow.

“I’ve been such a fool”

Annabel’s voice brought Lenore back into focus. Tears began to gather in Annabel’s eyes as she continued to mutter to herself. Foolish though it could be, Lenore believed her. It felt as genuine as anything. But then again, with Annabel, when did it not?

“If she’s not here,” Annabel said with a soft sob. “What’s the point?”

Lenore silently shifted into position and flashed her best smirk.

“Careful there, Annabel Lee. I’m starting to think you might actually like me.”

#nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #lenore nevermore #annabel lee x lenore #Nevermore fic #fic #Nevermore

39 notes · View notes

goblinwithartsupplies · 2 months

Note

this is strange. and exciting. And that's a good thing. Jupiter wants to capture every moment of this in his mind. Hold hands and do not kiss, lie down next to each other, belly to belly, do not touch with your hands, light kisses on the temple, cheek, forehead, crown, soft hugs on the shoulders and lie on each other's lap. It's much more than just friendship, but less than romance, Jupiter is still amazed by this closeness, and that's more than enough for him. Perseus is beautiful, but Jupiter does not want to share a bed with him, instead he hugs him around the waist and rests his head on his shoulder as he prepares cupcakes in the kitchen to give them to a young single mother who recently moved into his apartment building. And they hardly talk. Although they don't need to talk, Jupiter understands too easily when Perseus doesn't want to hug, Perseus understands when Jupiter wants a kiss on the forehead. They drink champagne on Friday nights, watching some silly romantic comedy, Perseus' laughter sounds soft and unobtrusive like the first song of spring birds, their hands sometimes touch it causes pleasant goosebumps, Jupiter reads Percy aloud, Percy sings to him. They fall asleep under a warm blanket, lying incredibly close, it is pleasant to feel Perseus' warm breath on his nose. This is good, incredibly good, but Jupiter understands that he is not enough and that he is not the one who is needed. Perseus is getting better, but he still locks himself in the bathroom and sits there for hours clutching Jason's photo to his chest. His quiet sobs make Jupiter's nonexistent heart bleed. He finds a solution pretty quickly, it's simple, time-tested and correct, Jupiter is sure of it. During the next winter solstice, he asks Pluto, who is surprised, but quickly agrees and gives the order to Mercury. Mercury brings the treasured bottle of shining golden liquid a few weeks later. And Jupiter gets to work - it's difficult, especially difficult because it's not the essence of his divinity, but the essence of the soul and the divine principle of his son, labour lasts all night. The boy, blond, with pale smooth skin, so similar to Beryl and possessing wonderful eyes of Perseus, makes his first cry along with the first rays of the sun. Jupiter does not show any feelings for him, does not hold him to himself and does not calm him down, he does not belong to him, although he wants to - he just wraps the newborn in a soft blanket and puts it in a basket. Perseus first presses the baby to his chest and then raises gentle, somewhat melancholy eyes to him. He had already accepted that he would most likely become the father of a demigod. Jupiter shakes his head, No, he's not ours, he's yours and Jason's. Perseus changes before his eyes, his face brightens with happiness, his eyes become many times brighter, a wide smile oozing with delight dissects his face, he sobs, kissing the baby on the forehead. Jupiter is leaving, there is no place for him anymore, the time they spent with Perseus is over, now there is only a small family of a young father and a newborn son, he has a grandson and needs to come to terms. The storm is raging from his suppressed feelings, Juno is waiting for him in the bedroom, she is full of determination and tenderness at the same time, it is strange and similar to Perseus. "This is our boy," Juno says, taking his face in her palm, "Mine, yours, Jason and Perseus, he our boy."

Hey, hello! could you please rate and voice your opinion about my letter - beginner anon.

Shared parentage is an awesome way to go. I’m slightly concerned for the baby because of al the gods involved in his creation but Percy has always been deserving of fatherhood.

Juno and Jupiter being soft in the boy who’s technically their grandson would be adorable but Percy would probably defend the baby with everything he has.

#pjo #percy jackson #pjo hoo toa #percy jackon and the olympians #jason grace #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #pjo Jupiter #pjo Juno #jercy

17 notes · View notes

dragonagelesbian · 3 months

Text

Which Thai QL actor is your teen self’s fantasy Valentine?

Thank you @mikuni14 for tagging me! I was so excited to participate in this tag game! Sorry that I'm late, I was thinking about this for way too long...

As the name suggests, I am a lesbian, so I will have to pass on the gentlement this time.

Film Rachanun Mahawan

Film is absolutely gorgeous. I love women who are feminine, bright, and have long hair (that very accurately describes my gf, ngl), and I fell in love with Film when I saw her in Not Me! I have a thing for artsy, creative girls, and she was just soooo lovely. I cannot WAIT for her in Pluto!!

Just look at how beautifully she cries... *clutches heart*

I would be so shy on a date with her! I feel like my teenage self would have been completely unable to actually ask her out, to be fair. I would just try to be her friend and stare at her...

Love Pattranite Limpatiyakorn

Similarly, Love is just lovely, feminine, and has such a cheerful smile. Her smile absolutely destroys me. I am SO excited for 23.5, I hope it comes out sooner than later, because I need her to have a main role so I can just stare at her all day. She's also an amazing actress, and has great timing and tension.

She's so goofy!

She's also actually shorter than me (!!) by like 5 cm, so I could be taller than her, which I am always excited about haha. My gf is slightly taller than me, so I love wearing heels and towering over her hehe.

This is so gf-coded of her...

Tagging @ner-vod, @sonnburn, @blue-grama, @souriwin, @cankersoregirl, @wen-kexing-apologist, and anyone else who wants to participate!

#thai bl #thai boys love #film #love #not me #bad buddy #23.5 the series #pluto the series

6 notes · View notes

tiny012 · 10 months

Text

Oh ho ho Rei

Let's see

Her and Mamo was chased on the rooftops of Toyko while yall was eating.

These past 11 episodes yall haven't done nothing but get thrown around while her and Mamo had done heavy lifting along with Har/Mic trying to find the tailsmans.

She defeats the Youma, Subvillian, and Big Bad by herself.

When it's a big bad yall are either dead or knocked out and she's by herself.

Let's do the run down of each season finale real quick.

Sailor Moon Classic

1. Gets killed individually by DD girls which leaves Usa alone to face Beryl.. Comes back as ghost to give Usa energy to defeat Metallia. ( Not really Alone)

Sailor Moon R

2. Actively participates in the battle along with Mamoru and Chibiusa which they gives Usa energy. ( Almost the same set-up in the R movie and Usagi is not Alone)

Sailor Moon S ( Spoilers lol )

3. Creates a barrier around the school ( which supposed to have been the outer jobs since they were the strongest) and gets beaten up badly by the death busters to brink of unconsciousness. Gives their energy to Usagi so she get turn into Super SM to save Saturn after she gives the Holy Gail to M9 thinking it was Hotaru.( Usagi pretty much goes alone since a big hand takes her.)

Sailor Moon SuperS

4. Become unconscious after the Usagi and Chibiusa use the power of the Golden Crystal as a Sprit Bomb as Usagi went to save Chibs from Nehellenia.( Usagi is alone)

Sailor Moon StarS

5. Gets killed by Galaxia in one big blast while the outers betray Usa and kill Pluto and Saturn only for it to be a rouge before they die. The Starlights just stand there while she battles and then saves Galaxia.

In one of the season finale out of five yall were actually there in the finale battle actively participating in her defeating a big bad and not unconscious or dead.

But you want to say she thinks she can do everything by herself when she pretty much DOES everything by herself.

Yall want more numbers to prove this more? Here are Sailor Moon Classic numbers.

Yall get a full point if they defeat a Youma by yourselves and get a half a point if they defeat one together.

I could have threw in Usagi destroying Beryl but she would have gotten an whole point since she was still alive and they would have gotten an half of point since yall was dead.

Mina! You supposed to be the leader and your average is worse then fucking Ami’s!

Here's Sailor Moon R ( Doom Tree)

Black Moon

Together

I need to do S, SuperS and StarS...

She’s the only one that become clutch meanwhile she have to carry dead weight aka save everyone asses while yall are somewhere dead or unconscious.

Its like she come up with the idea of the group project, get the research and materials for it, put it together and then presented it but then you will tease her for talking to fast even tho they did shit and still got a A for it.

But she's thinking she can do everything by herself..

Yall aint shit.

#tanya liveblogs sailor moon #tanya liveblogs sm #tanya rants about sm #tanya liveblogs s #I swear this post was not going to turn into a roast #I spent an hour on this #holy shit rei #you got me on that line

14 notes · View notes

grief-and-daisies · 1 year

Text

And I'd Choose You

Pairing: Jasico (Jason Grace x Nico di Angelo)

Warnings: Violence, probably OC characters, attempted murder ig, angry Jason, injuries, lemme know if I missed anything

Note: I tried my best, so yeah. This is cross-posted to my AO3. This is also pretty old. Anyhow, feel free to send in requests.

Click read more or click here to go to AO3

This wasn’t the first time someone had tried to kill Nico, and he was fairly certain it wouldn’t be the last. Still, it kind of sucked.

It had been 7 months since the war with Gaea and not everyone was happy with the new relationship between the Greek and Roman camps. Even more people were unhappy with Nico once it got out that he had known about the two camps before anyone else.

So, by all accounts, he should have seen this coming. Still, he had gotten soft over his months at camp and wasn’t prepared when 4 Romans had jumped him one night as he exited Pluto’s temple.

The feeling of eyes on him made him freeze. He spun around but had no time to defend himself before a bat was swung straight into his chest. The air was knocked out of his lungs and he was sent flying into the dirt. Gasping, he attempted to get up before his arms were kicked out from under him, sending him back onto the ground.

“Nico di Angelo, how do you plead?” crooned a voice from behind him. Slow footsteps made their way in front of him. He pushed himself onto his knees, chest screaming in pain, vision blurry from the impact. No one hit him again, giving him a view of the person- people before him.

He recognized 2, though only in passing. A legacy of Apollo by the name of Jamie, a tall girl with tan skin and uneven freckles holding a bat. The other was a son of Minerva named Zack, who was of the Second Cohort. He had extremely curly hair and round glasses, though Nico only remembered his name since he thought he looked a bit like Hazel. Now, they couldn’t seem more different.

The other two girls were unknown to him, though one was clearly a decadent of Mars from her tattoo. She had bright blonde hair and wore a pink tank top with sparkles on it. The other girl had her forearms covered but clutched a dagger in one hand and a bag in the other.

“Well?” asked Jamie, her voice still mocking, as if she was speaking to a child. Nico considered his options. He could shadow travel out of there right now, or even fight back, but he likely wouldn’t figure out what they wanted, and if he was honest, his head was still spinning slightly from banging it off the ground.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, voice still wheezy from the hit.

“For committing espionage against New Rome, and for the death of my cousin, Octavian, how do you plead? Guilty or not guilty?” Jamie had a mad glint in her pale eyes as she spoke. Behind her, the unknown girl shifted nervously, the contents of her bag clanking.

Nico’s blood went cold. He hadn’t realized anyone but those he was close with knew of what happened with Octavian, but he supposed it was only a matter of time before it got out.

“Oh, I don’t care, get the bonds on him,” Jamie barked at the descendant of Mars, who grabbed Nico and pulled him forward. He struggled to push her off, not wanting to take anyone with him when he shadow travelled. The blonde girl pulled harder and he dug his feet into the ground, nearly slipping out of her grip before he felt something cold and sharp against his neck.

The unknown girl had dropped the bag and held her dagger to his throat from behind him. Warm blood dripped down his neck from where she pushed too hard, her hands shaking. He froze, his entire body locked up. She was flighty, and that made her dangerous.

“Good work, Julia. She’s quick, isn't she? Children of Mercury often are,” Julia took a deep inhale when Jamie said her name, dagger digging further into his neck.

Zack picked up the bag Julia had dropped and pulled out what looked to be thick handcuffs with inscriptions on them. He didn’t recognize all of the words on them, but enough to know their purpose.

He wouldn’t be able to shadow travel.

Rushing panic filled his veins. Shadow travel was his only way out of here. He needed to keep those cuffs off him and get the knife away from his neck.

“Neat bracelets, but they won’t work,” Nico taunted, praying to Hades and any god who would listen that this would work.

“And how do you know that?” sneered the sparkly-shirt girl, stepping forward menacingly. Now he could finally see her resemblance to Ares, the expression on her face one of bloodlust.

“Because Zack here is working with the Greeks,” he said, forcing a cocky grin. It wasn’t true, of course, but all he needed was- there.

Julia let out a shocked noise behind him, and her grip on the dagger loosened for just a moment. Nico seized his chance, slamming his head back towards her into her stomach, causing her to drop her knife in a clatter. She collapsed behind him, wheezing, as he pulled the shadows over him, vanishing to the sound of furious yelling.

Begging the shadows to take him someplace safe, he stepped out into Cabin One and immediately fell to the ground as his knees gave out. No one was inside, and the exhaustion tugging at his mind was strong. He passed out where he lay on the marble floor, cold and alone.

Nico woke up not that much later to a door ramming into his ankle. His tired brain took several seconds to register the impact before he finally jerked his leg back and pushed himself onto his knees to look at who had entered the cabin.

Part of him screamed at being in the same position as he was when Julia held a knife to his throat, alarm bells ringing in his head. The rest of him, however, was too tired to care. Peering through the darkness of the cabin, the figure standing in the doorway was impossible to recognize for a moment until they turned to face him, and-

Jason.

Whatever piece of Nico that was still terrified finally disappeared, leaving him drained and achy. The half-dried blood on his neck itched.

“Who is- Nico?” Jason gasped out, immediately moving towards him and pulling him to his feet. He fumbled for the light switch by the door, before finding it and flicking it on and looking down at Nico.

Whatever he saw clearly wasn’t good, because his expression darkened immediately. He ran his thumb gingerly over the wound on Nico’s neck and stared down at the blood smeared on it.

“Nico,” Jason said, his voice deceptively calm, “who did this to you?”

“Jason, I-” Nico started before his voice gave out, his eyes suddenly burning. Embarrassed, he went to swipe at them, but Jason grabbed his hand before he could. Then, as if the night couldn’t get any stranger, Jason pulled Nico in close, his face tucked into the crook of Jason's neck.

Inhaling the scent of pine, he felt his body go limp in Jason’s grasp.

Touch has never been easy for him, but recently he’s been better. With Jason, it came all too easy.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now. I have you,” Jason whispered into his hair, rubbing a hand in soothing circles on his back. It’s then Nico realised he’s shaking in Jason’s arms.

“I thought- I thought I was safe, and then she had a knife, Jason, and I was so scared, I-” and it’s true, for the first time in a long, long time, Nico had been genuinely afraid to die.

Jason shushed him and pulled him in impossibly closer, just holding him. Just being there.

Many demigods feared death, perhaps more so than the average person. Nico was different. The Underworld was his father's realm, and he knew when it was time, he would be safe. So he wasn’t scared of death itself, no, it was something else entirely.

Nico was scared of leaving everyone. Of maybe never seeing them again. Hazel, Reyna, Will, Frank, Percy and Annabeth, gods, even Leo and Piper. And Jason, he didn’t know what he would do if he had to leave Jason, even temporarily.

After an unknown amount of time, Jason pulled back. Nico mourned the loss of his warmth before Jason began to speak.

“Come on, Nico, we have to get you cleaned up,” Jason murmured, leading him over to his bed and sitting him down. A deep blush warmed his face as Jason turned away, digging in the drawer next to the bed. He pulled out a medium-sized tin and placed it beside Nico, opening it to reveal medical supplies and a small bag with 3 cubes of ambrosia.

“How did you get all this?” Nico asked, attempting to rid his face of its flush as Jason briskly walked off to the bathroom.

“I have my ways,” he called from the other room. Nico could hear him digging around, cabinet doors opening and closing, then the tap running before turning back off.

When Jason left the washroom, he was holding a wide bowl filled with water and a washcloth. Setting it down on the side table, he pulled the cloth from the water and leaned over Nico. If his cheeks were burning before, they feel molten now. Jason’s other hand tipped back Nico’s head and he began to dab at the wound with the rag, causing Nico to let out a pained hiss.

“Sorry, sorry… I want to clean this up first before it gets infected,” Jason whispered, his own expression pained. A few minutes pass in silence as Jason cleaned his neck, then his knees and arms where the fall had caused scrapes.

“So, what happened?” Jason asked, his voice casual as he paused to look at him. Nico hesitated. If he was honest, he was embarrassed by what had occurred. He got too comfortable and had let his guard down, letting a bunch of amateurs get the jump on him. He had taken down monsters far more powerful than all of them combined, gods, he had walked through Tartarus alone, he could take 4 teenagers. But instead, he had been on his knees and panicking, then ran away.

Something must have shown on his face because Jason stopped cleaning his left knee and put the cloth down. He placed a hand on the side of Nico’s neck and leaned forward in his chair.

“Nico, whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. You don’t deserve to be attacked or hurt, and you didn’t do anything wrong. Whoever did this is the wrong one,” he peered up at Nico as he spoke, his words ringing with honesty.

“There were 4 of them…” he whispered, avoiding Jason’s eyes. A sudden shock from Jason’s hand caused Nico to jump, and Jason jerked his hand away, eyes wide.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just… upset,” Jason said in a rush, leaning back. He rummaged through the kit on the bed and grabbed the bag of ambrosia, opened it and handed Nico a cube. “Maybe I should keep my distance while you tell this story. To avoid any… shocking issues.”

So Nico told him everything. He explained how he left Pluto’s temple and had been hit with the bat. Being on his knees, and when he recognized the magic on the bonds, panicking, trying to get away. Julia with the knife on his neck. Barely escaping and desperately going somewhere safe. By the end, Nico feels exhausted, despite the ambrosia in his system. Jason, on the other hand, looked furious. Embarrassed, he got up and began to walk toward the door.

“Well, this has been fun, thank you for patching me up, I’ll go back to my cabin now, see you tom-” Nico starts, but he doesn’t make it 5 steps before Jason is in front of him, gently taking his arm and leading him back towards the bed.

“Absolutely not. It’s late, the harpies are out, and you’re in no condition to shadow travel. Just sleep here for tonight, Nico,” Jason wasn’t asking, Nico realises as he’s pushed into bed and Jason is already covering him up with a blanket before he realised what was happening.

The urge to protest is strong, but the pull of sleep is stronger. He nearly drifted off immediately before he remembered something.

“Where are you sleeping?” He asked drowsily, sitting up slightly. Jason looked down at him with a soft smile, and Nico was far too tired to think about the implications of that right now.

“Nowhere right now. I have something I have to do,” Jason said, his voice just above a whisper.

For a moment Nico is confused about what Jason could be doing so early before he realised what he meant.

“Jason, no, come on, we’ll call Reyna in the morning and she’ll take care of it. There’s no need for you to try and deal with it tonight,” Jason doesn’t look convinced, and Nico is exhausted and unwilling to argue with him, so he simply says “Jason, please.”

He watched Jason’s shoulders drop. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before taking off his glasses and placing them on the side table beside the bowl and washcloth. He then, much to Nico’s confusion, climbed into bed beside him and pulled Nico into his chest.

“Okay, Nico. Go to sleep,” Jason murmured, and Nico wanted to ask him what he was doing, why he was holding him like this and being so kind, but he really was tired, and Jason was warm and safe and it was so easy to just… drift off.

Nico was sound asleep when less than an hour later Jason slowly, slowly, let Nico go and slipped out of bed. He leaned over Nico and hesitated for a moment, before pressing a light kiss to his forehead. Grabbing his coin off his dresser and placing it in his pocket, he quietly moved towards the door, before stopping and looking at Nico again. At the now healed scar on his throat and his ripped shirt. Lightning jumped from his fingertips, giving the room a light blue, eerie light. Then, he softly opens the door and exits the cabin.

He had something to take care of.

#jasico #jason grace #nico di angelo #pjo hoo toa #but no toa cause screw you #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #thunderworld

38 notes · View notes

crcssrcads · 6 months

Text

title: unbroken when: post the tinkerer where: rome trigger warnings: none

There is a bone deep weariness settling over her frame as she leaves her conversation with Thanatos. It had been the right choice to make, she knows, but it is a choice that will bring its own difficulties as time passes. It was death’s ultimatum, his way of telling her she needs to shape up or his hand will be forced, and she cannot deny the fairness of the action. Again and again she had pushed his boundaries, bringing Keket and Remus and countless others because she wanted to give them just another chance. Because they deserve the chance her first family never got.

Trivia does not regret her choices, does not regret gaining Thanatos animosity because of her actions. She does not regret a single person she has brought back, not even Remus who had sold her away for a revenge that once fulfilled had left him aimless at first.

He was her son, she had brought him back into the world, made him one of the most fearsome creatures in existence, and she would do it again, even if it meant to suffer his betrayal once more. Even if it meant she would be used once more. Whether he chose to acknowledge it or not, she saw him as family, as yet another prodigal son she needed to wait at the table until he was ready to come back home.

No amount of betrayal would change that, not when she had cradled his very essence and imbued it with life once upon a time. Not when she had seen his hurt, his own desperation to survive and had known him just as she knew himself.

Trivia loved Remus through his betrayal, through his slow return. It was not easy, but she had always known not all love was.

Loving Keket was. Loving the daughter she had saved from the flames, who had lost her path once and decided to turn around and bring light to the world because she saw that the darkness stood strong? It was as easy as breathing, as falling asleep.

Thanatos’ eternal disappointment would never make her regret bringing her back, bringing him back.

But she understood his anger, and the deal he had brought forth was beyond fair. Taking it had been logical, simple, even to her overwhelmed mind, even to her broken self, so she had made her choice and made a deal with Death.

She floats through her interactions, brief moments of grounding amidst the ever increasing screams filling her head. A broken mind cannot be healed in a few hours, an identity cannot be stitched together with a wish, but what was gone in the future remains in the presence, leaving her staggering and trembling through the waves of despair clutching at her very veins.

Seeing Pluto again is like breaking through the water and taking a first breath of air, clarity striking as she sinks into familiarity like a ship clutching at its anchor amidst a gathering storm. Despite the betrayal that will be, she seeks him and his comfort, seeks the steadiness that he gives her as her mind is fracturing by the second. His words confuse her, drag truths that she hadn’t known forth, and she knows.

She knows she will forgive him, in the end, and she hears Circe berating her for her foolishness, Lilith laughing at her weakness.

As Lycaon’s presence approaches, the final hint of safety slotting into place, she does not care.

The world is harsh and cruel, ready to take and take, and she has always been anything but. Magic was a gift meant to be shared, and she gave it freely, would do it again even with the danger of the channeling. Her love has always been given freely, and to allow the cruelty of the world to take that part of her would truly break her in ways that even the Elder Great One’s couldn’t have.

That does not mean that there needs to be no change, but merely that she will not allow it to take more away from her. Not her kindness, not her forgiveness, not her magic.

Not again.

Never again.

Thanatos’ deal is the first step of the plan that begins to form as she mends herself with magic and stubbornness alike. Slowly, stubbornly, painfully, she mends her broken edges, fitting them like porcelain and pouring gold in the cracks until what was shattered is whole again, if changed from what it had been. It is a slow process, the one of healing, but it is one she is intimately familiar with, both from experience and from seeing Keket nudge someone’s life back into place with a precise touch.

Healing is not easy, but it must be done.

So Trivia does, rebuilding the foundations of her psyche step by step.

Once she is done —finally, painfully — she looks beyond herself.

She knows what to do now.

#{ remus } betrayer; son: there will always be a seat at the table for you #{ keket } saved from the flames; child of starlight; i see the future in your eyes #{ drabble }#{ headcanons } she ain't out to get you but she's better on your side

6 notes · View notes

venusvxen · 2 years

Text

The Third House & Cars

After hearing the 3h rules cars and gemini rules cars i’ve started to think back on my track record with cars. I kid yall not there have been so many times where i should’ve gotten into car accidents but i’ve barely avoided it because i either (a) listened to intuition and didn’t go or (b) somehow managed to drive away just in time before chaos could follow. The only real accident i’ve been in has been when I hit a deer

Side note: I’m alive/my car is still fine. The deer on the other hand is now with its maker 😝🤪

Now I think most of it can be attested to the assumption I have that it’s kinda impossible for me to get into a major car accident. Like i’ve evaded that shit so many times I quite literally just assume my guides have me and no harm can come to me behind the wheel. And i deff believe that is a factor. HOWEVER, we’re talking about astrology.

I have a 3H aries venus. Venus (luck) and think about the amount of times i’ve managed to narrowly avoid the clutches of death behind the wheel. Yeahhhhh🤔

I also believe the 3h sign and planets there can show your driving style/ type of cars you drive. For example, I have a 3h (aries) venus. Needles to say i drive like a fucking bastard. I’m literally an asshole on the road with road rage.

My friend told me how she has a 3H Leo jupiter and said how she has never been in car accidents but all of her family members have. When I think about Leo jupiter in the third i think about luck with cars and car accidents (duh) but also driving big cars. Big as in Big brand name cars or just a big car like an SUV.

Alternatively, Saturn in the 3h can manifest as someone who’s scared to drive. Saturn/Pluto in the third = all black/ dark car interior and exterior imo.

Neptunian influence on the third can indicate a person who uses driving as a whimsical escape and Uranus in the third gives you’re a nerd who drives a tesla. Like any uruaniun influence on the third just gives you drive the fucking batmobile.

Anyways this is all just an interesting theory i’ve came up with. Lmk if any of this resonates w yall🙈😝

#astro observations #astro talks #astrology #astrology tumblr #astro thoughts #3h #gemini #cars #driving styles

76 notes · View notes

coconut530 · 1 year

Text

THE PROPHECY WAS NOT FINE

#Nevermore #Nevermore Webtoon #Webtoon #WHAT AN EPPP #All the twists coming from everywhere #Morella and her devotion to her friends coming in clutch #Although it like cemented her position on the fence which Prospero didn’t appreciate and I bet Montresor won’t either #Lenore vouching for Ada #And then she like totally skewed the situation to her liking #Then PLUTO COMING IN CLUTCH #SMALL BRIT SOLIDARITY #(At least in my head I know Pluto is confirmed British but I like to think Morella is too)#PROSPERO IS SO SCARYYYYYYYY #I love all their reactions to Ada yeeting herself into Prospero’s arms #And then the ✨prophecyyyyy✨#IMMEDIATELY SHATTERED BY PROSPERO BEING THE MOST EVIL LITTLE DUDE AND SHOVING HER DOWN AN ELEVATOR SHAFTTTTTT #Now we’ve had two deaths in the group #And Prospero’s stick thing affecting Lenore was like very cool and angsty #And then he’s scary rat man #And the next thumb being the rats all over PLUTO HAS ME VERY CONCERNED #NEXT WEEK I GUESSSSSSSSSSSS

32 notes · View notes

yusakiiiii · 11 months

Text

Pluto — A Limited Life AU Fanfic

The sound of thunder ripples across the server as lightning strikes Martyn’s hourglass. Setting it ablaze. The tattered visage of Impulse watches the timepiece burn. His shirt, cut with clear stab marks, barely clinging onto his body, and his skin is marked in purple bruises. He walks slowly to the edge of The Rock, gripping his bow and an arrow. Ready for the coming fight.

Across the sea, Martyn is clinging to the rocks of the Corals Isles, barely hanging on. His shirt slashed down the centre by Pearl revealing his chest, now covered red with a mix of blood and water. He clutches what remains of his shirt to his chest and yelps out in pain as the salt seeps into his wound. Scott, in the water below the hourglass, kicks away Pearl’s body and resurfaces not too far from Martyn just in time to hear his yelp of pain. He had been excited. It was only Impulse left to go! But hearing Martyn in pain his happy face turns to one of concern as he rushes to Martyn laying down by their chests, frantically asking, “Are you okay?”

Martyn pushes himself up to a wobbly stand, straining as he says, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Scott smiles weakly, seeing through the obvious facade and telling him, “Sit down, wait a second.”

Putting a warm hand on Martyn’s shoulder forcing him back down to the ground. He makes a cup with his hands and takes some of the sea water, before trickling it down into Martyn’s chest wound. Martyn winces as Scott then traces a line in the wound with his index finger, the cut slowly closing up behind it, leaving only a faintly discoloured scar in its place. Martyn looks down, now feeling much better saying in surprise, “Wow! You’re magic!”

Scott can’t help but chuckle as he dips his hand back in the water to wash the blood off of it, “Yes, I suppose I am.”

He then takes Martyn’s hand and they stand up together and Scott declares, “One more to go.”

Suddenly, Martyn’s eyes seemed to be filled with black swirling clouds, and he then hears a deep voice bellowing from within them, “But there isn’t just one. There is still two. And nought should be left but you!”

The clouds in their eyes seem to change and contort with each word as if they themselves are speaking. Then, all at once, the clouds disappear and Martyn can see clearly once more. He doesn’t reply and just clasps Scott’s hand close to him before letting go and walking out to their small dirt bridge back to the mainland. Scott opening their pointless door and leading the way saying, “My shield broke in my fight with Impulse. We should be able to take him together though.”

The billowing clouds shout in the recesses of Martyn’s brain, “You see he’s weak! Will you really let the win go to one so meek?”

Faltering, Martyn replies, “Yes.”

And follows Scott along round the bay. Brushing away branches Scott then pauses and guesses, “You don’t have too many arrows left. Right?”

Martyn hesitates for a moment thinking, “How did he know? Well, he always had been the observant type.”

He starts to reply, “No I…”

When the clouds once more shout into his mind, “He is not observant! He is oblivious! You could kill him right now. Couldn’t you? My little servant.”

Over the shouting Martyn can’t hear what Scott is saying and only feels the result of a bundle of arrows forced into his hand. He stares blankly at Scott, saying “Thank you.”

As Scott turns away and continues walking round the coastline to Spawn.

The deep voice returns, angrily roaring in Martyn’s ears, “Don’t thank him! He should be your victim! This is a game of death! You must make sure he breathes his last breath! His kindness has no place here! Shed this thin veneer! Stab him through the heart! Tear his soul apart!”

Martyn can only sombrely ponder as they trail behind their friend. Only looking up when they notice Scott stop in front of them.

Impulse looks down at the two and they stare at each other for a moment silently. Before Scott tries to clamber up the rocks to him, he slots an arrow in his bow and aims at Scott. Then, a crack of bone and half a gasp. Martyn has run their sword through Scott’s back, emerging from the other side coated in his scarlet blood. Impulse, in shock at what Martyn just did, lets loose his arrow and slightly misses, it only lightly scraping Scott’s earlobe. Scott, in this state can only let out a faint, “Why?” in response.

Martyn replies, “Because you don’t deserve this.”

In Scott’s healthy ear. Martyn’s voice sounds like there are two speaking. One, his normal voice, sounds sorrowful as he speaks. The other a deep booming one, speaking callously.

Martyn twists their sword and Scott evaporates.

Scott: -1 Hour

Martyn: +30 Minutes

Martyn looks down at their sword covered in blood. Then remembering Impulse is also there they look up, ready to fight, only to see Impulse there in front of them with a defiant look on his face and his hand held out. Although he has his other hand on the hilt of his sword. He then adds to Martyn’s earlier remark, “No, he doesn’t.”

Martyn chuckles, still speaking in their twin voice, “I did not expect this.”

Before taking Impulse’s hand and pointing their bloody sword to the Clocktower. The look in their eyes said it all. Martyn pulls their hand away and clambers up the rocks to Spawn.

Impulse begins to follow Martyn up, his sword in one hand and his shield in the other. An image flashes through his mind. Etho, his friend, dead in the grass by the ruins of Bread Bridge. He has one hand in the water beside him. He had been so close to safety. But the charred fabric on his torso told a story. A firework. His friend had been killed by Martyn and Scott. He would not forget that.

Pulling himself over the ridge to stand up beside Martyn, they watch as Scott stabs the earth with his sword in the area where Skizz and BDubs had fought and brings himself to half stand up. Hunched over the hilt of his sword. He stares at Martyn, a pained and confused look in his eyes.

Then from behind him he swings a hand under his torso. A loaded crossbow. He aims at Impulse and shoots. The arrow embeds itself in Impulse’s shield and the uneasy alliance charge at Scott. Martyn affirming, “Still tact as ever, I see.”

As they take their first step forwards. Scott discards his crossbow, pulling out a pufferfish in a bucket from somewhere. Standing up straight and hurling the bucket with all his might at Martyn’s face. They are able to slice the pufferfish in two as the water splashes on them. But between the parted fish Martyn notices too late that the pufferfish was just a diversion. Scott had charged inwards and had his sword ready to thrust into Martyn’s face. He lurches forwards, only for an uppercut to come from the side from Impulse, forcing Scott’s sword slightly skywards. It plucking Martyn’s kelp headband from their head leaving a small cut rather than a gaping wound thanks to Impulse.

Impulse then fits his shield to his shoulder and begins charging into Scott with all his weight, pushing the both of them to the floor. Behind him Martyn looks astounded for a second. But as a drop of blood from Scott’s cut drips towards their eye, they brush it away, smirking and stating, “Thank you, Impulse. But only one can remain.”

As they skewer Impulse, his shield and Scott with their sword. Impulse falls down the sword, laying on his shield as the two evaporate.

Scott: -1 Hour

Impulse: -1 Hour

Martyn: +1 Hour

Martyn looks up ahead to the centre of the muddy circle as Impulse and Scott materialise there on the floor. Impulse knew what was coming, he knew not to trust Martyn. Why had he turned his back? Why had he given Martyn the opportunity? The animosity emanating from him was palpable. But just as much aimed at his own incompetence as Martyn’s betrayal. Next to him, Scott’s crestfallen face stared blankly at the ground, he was a broken man. Not wanting to give them a chance to breathe, Martyn quickly loaded and aimed their crossbow at Scott. Scott didn’t attempt to dodge it; or block it. Impulse didn’t step in and slice the bolt out of the air. It sank cleanly into his heart. And Scott, once more, evaporated. The arrow falling to the floor.

Scott: -1 Hour

Martyn: +30 Minutes

But whilst Martyn had been loading and aiming at Scott, Impulse had been charging shield first at Martyn. The beaten up shield obscuring his body, Martyn raised their sword to stab right through it. Yet they only hear a small k’shunk of the metal against the wood as Impulse forces his shield aside, taking Martyn’s sword with it, to reveal Impulse ducking low down. And Martyn let out a splutter of blood as Impulse charges his horns right into Martyn’s abdomen. Winded by the sudden burst into them, Martyn drops their crossbow as Impulse lifts them up to the sky, impaled on his horns. Martyn fades into smoke as the white cloud whirls around Impulse. His head soaked in Martyn’s dark red blood.

Martyn: -1 Hour

Impulse: +30 Minutes

The Mean Gills both materialise together at spawn. But this time Scott reacts first. Lurching at Martyn, grabbing them by the neck and pushing them to the ground. Scott is grinding his teeth in a grimace. He can’t say anything. What could he say? The pain in his chest was too much to bear. Martyn, realising they’re at Scott’s mercy, unable to speak, can only plead for their time with their eyes. In response, Scott starts to press his forehead to Martyn’s gently, before forcefully headbutting Martyn so hard there was an audible crack. Although it’s unclear who was hurt more by it. They then hear the squelching of Impulse’s feet in the mud. Scott doesn’t take his eyes off of Martyn’s. But Martyn can only look up and over at the slowly approaching Impulse. His burgundy crown dripping down his expressionless face. He simply raises his sword and says, “You don’t deserve this either Martyn.”

As he brings down his sword, decapitating the both of them. Martyn evaporates under Scott who’s limp body slumps into the mud, his severed head sticking in enough that from afar you may not be able to tell how he died.

Scott has run out of time!

Martyn: -1 Hour

Impulse: +1 Hour

Impulse then looks around for Martyn to rematerialise. And as they come into being they only have a second to turn around before the cold steel blade rips through their neck once more.

Martyn: -1 Hour

Impulse: +30 Minutes

They materialise again only to feel that precise pain slicing through their neck.

Martyn: -1 Hour

Impulse: +30 Minutes

Again. No time to react. No time to plead for mercy. No time left.

Martyn has run out of time!

Impulse: +30 Minutes

Impulse stared blankly at Martyn’s decapitated body. Slunk into the earth. He places his hand against his forehead and pulls it away, only to see it stained red. He could only let out a small sob he choked back as he turned away from the Mean Gills to T.I.E.S Tower. Their concrete Bow Tie 3/4 blown up, barely hanging on. He then looks out to the remains of the Bread Bridge and sets out for that colossal wreck.

He slides down the rocks to the river and pauses for a moment. Before plunging his blood red hand into the river and taking a deep breath before forcing his head down with it. Half a minute later pulling himself out and wiping the water from his eyes he stares at the now murky red water for a moment. Before picking himself up and walking over the makeshift bridge that had been used to kidnap Grian then through the Dark Oak forest before he stops at a clearing. The water from the bridge crashing down and pooling in Creeper holes. He walks over to Etho’s body by the water and stares at it. Before squatting down and apologising, “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you.”

As he brushes the hair out of Etho’s face and slides his hand under his friend, hauling him up in a Princess carry. He walks back through the forest, over the makeshift bridge and around the river bank, and all the way back to T.I.E.S Tower where Impulse lay him down on the sand.

Impulse then walked back over their bridge, past Scott and Martyn’s bodies, to gaze over the ridge towards Martyn’s birthday party, he then looks down. And there, barely 3 metres from the top of the ridge was Tango’s splayed body. His flaming hair had gone out revealing the rest of his head to be charred black. His knees were not bent the correct way, and his sword had clattered down the mountain. Who was he chasing again? Did it matter? The still sombre Impulse slid his arms under his friend once more and lifted him up before once again returning home. He lay Tango’s body beside Etho, fixed his knees into a natural position. Then turned back to the tower.

He swam high up to Skynet and walked slowly across the precarious walkways to Windsor where he saw Skizz’s body face first down on the cobblestones. A wide slash across the top of his back, dried blood staining his dazzling white wings. Impulse folded Skizz’s wings neatly behind his back before turning his friend over, looking to the sky. He then carried Skizz’s body back home. Leaping into the ocean before bringing them both to shore. He lay the body of his old friend on the other side of Etho before just standing over them, watching their lifeless bodies for a moment. Like somehow, now that they’d come back together, they’d come back to life and everything would be fine. But that didn’t happen. They just lay there. “Sleeping”, Impulse thought. So he decided to lay with them, flanked by Tango and Etho he lay in the sand, staring up to the heavens. Watching the Sun, Stars and Moon circle above him. He slowly closed his eyes to sleep, waiting for his time to tick down.

With his eyes still closed, Impulse then felt some small slaps repeatedly on his cheek and a familiar voice saying, “Hey. Dippledop!”

He opened his eyes to the bright light of the sun and a shadow looming over him. He sat up and wiped his eyes, and he moved his fingers away to see Skizz sitting cross legged over from him. Impulse simply replied, “Hey Skizz.”

His angelic friend spread out his arms and wings and embraced Impulse, smothering him in feathers exclaiming, “You did it buddy!”

Impulse instinctively replies, “What did I do?”

Skizz pulls out of the hug and grips Impulses shoulders and a little angrily yells, “What do you mean what did you do? I was hoping one of us would get to the top 3. But you pushed the envelope man. You won dude!”

Impulse then noticed Tango and Etho behind Skizz. Tango shouting, “Yeah man! What are you talking about? You’re amazing!”

As the two of them shuffle around Skizz’s wingspan to embrace Impulse into one big hug. Impulse smiles a little, “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Afterword: (Just some notes)

Since this is an AU. I don’t want anyone to think I didn’t like how the Limited Life ending happened. It was brilliant. But I am a big Impulse fan so I can’t help that my mind wandered into how it could have gone differently. How might it have been changed if a few things were different. Could Impulse have won?

I’d also like to note some inspirations. The design for the TIES members I had in mind whilst writing was that of this animation by Lemobread. I highly recommend giving it a watch. https://youtu.be/m16hSweXlEw

The scene in the afterlife was inspired by this comic by cj-the-random-artist on Tumblr. It’s brilliant. https://www.tumblr.com/cj-the-random-artist/715352676364320768/i-dont-know-how-i-managed-to-do-this-in-a-day

The fanfic is called Pluto because there is the running theme of winners being related to celestial bodies. Grian being the Sun because his name literally means Sun in Irish. Scott being the Stars because he has those things floating around his head that kinda look like stars and he was a Starborne on the Origins SMP. And the Moon because PearlescentMoon. And people are undecided on Martyn but I’m personally an advocate for “The Void of Space” because of his relation to the shadow and the watchers. But anyway, amongst Imp and Skizz fans, people often liken them to a devil and Angel respectively. That is an explanation for the design choice in Lemobread’s animatic. And being a Devil, the celestial body I can relate Impulse most too, would be Pluto, the Roman God of the Underworld. Equally, if Skizz ever happened to win, Jupiter would be the most apt parallel for him.

You may have noticed, but as the watchers took over Martyn I shifted the pronouns used for him from he/him to they/them to indicate multiple people. (To clarify, I know they/them pronouns can be used in the singular but here I’m aiming for a plural to indicate multiple people controlling Martyn.)

I also had it in a few situations where it’s ambiguous as to whether Martyn is talking to The Watchers or Scott. And a couple double meanings when it comes to Martyn. Like when he said to Scott, “Because you don’t deserve this.” The “this” is intentionally ambiguous. The Watchers in him are saying Scott doesn’t deserve to win. Martyn is saying he doesn’t deserve to be betrayed like this. He doesn’t deserve the pain. I was hoping to get that across with subtext but if you didn’t get it, this afterword sort of explains those intentions.

Also, as a note, this is the first time I’ve properly written anything beside D&D characters since I was 16. I’m now 20. So it’s been a while and I barely passed my English GCSE’s anyway. So this is probably very basic in terms of writing. There wasn’t really any specific writing technique I was going for, I was just sort of writing passively. So I don’t know if anyone is going to enjoy this at all. Thank you if you have read this far though! I’ll take constructive criticism, but I can’t say I’ll learn from it since writing is hardly a career I plan on pursuing.

#limitedlife #fanfic #life series #impulsesv #skizzleman #tangotek #ethoslab #smajor1995 #inthelittlewood

7 notes · View notes

senatushq · 6 months

Text

Juno

NAME/ALIASES. UTP AGE & BIRTH DATE. Prehistoric & Unknown SPECIES. Archfiend GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/Her or She/They AFFILIATIONS. UTP OCCUPATION. UTP

history

Of all the Outer Gods, Nyarlathotep was the most feared, it was said that where he went, rest vanished, for the small hours were rent with the screams of nightmare. This creature was Juno's father. Divine sovereign of a realm beyond even the stretch of Hyperborea, hidden from the prying eyes of Elysia, Rhylkos was the result of a land fallen to consumption. A level of the Abyss with decay that eroded the foundation beneath it, war torn and chaotic, Juno and her siblings fled through the Otherworld to escape the clutches of their father. With Titania’s blessing, they settled within the mortal realm sometime after the fall of Eden. Creatures of unknown form and shape, when Juno entered the mortal realm alongside her siblings she was suddenly possessed by an insatiable thirst. Divinity flowed through the veins of mortals, however faint, breathed to life by the magic of Queen Titania and Ulthar. It was this that Juno craved most of all, from the moment blood touched his tongue, she was forever changed. She took the form of the first woman that she bit into, teeth breaking skin as the original vampire was truly born. Whatever name she'd carried in her youth fell away, traded for titles and epithets that the mortals settled upon her and her siblings’ shoulders. Her dominion was over the soul and she was not like the others, sometimes Hera, sometimes Juno, she had not come to the mortal realm to settle, but to rule.

While her siblings contested for how to best fit into the mortal realm, Juno was most vocal about her desire to rule. Loud, willful, and powerful; Juno chose only the strongest and primarily women to stand at her side. Ulthar took notice of this and courted her for a decade, and then a century. Time and time again she refused him until he made a promise to protect her from the light of day and the legions of his seraphim. Hera's name became synonymous with Zeus, a Queen among Gods though when she conspired to overthrow him she was cast out. Within the divine realm she coiled together ropes of elysian rope and bound the man to his bed. Juno would have killed him had his bumbling cupbearer not wandered in and stilled her hatred with his presence. Ulthar broke free, and Juno was cast down. Far, far below and into the Abyss. It was there that Juno landed before her father once again; for her crimes Juno was forgiven, and at the fall of the Inferno she rose once more to finish what she'd once began.

connections

Pluto: Juno's older brother, she arrived in the mortal realm just before him.

Magisters: Her younger siblings chosen magisters.

Nettelia: Pluto watched, unseen, as Nettelia stripped flesh into pages - the fractured soul inside of him whispering to her Persephone’s secrets while she toiled over the bodies of so many.

abilities

Immortal: Undying and will heal regeneratively, Juno will never age as a result.

Daywalker: Imbued with the power of the sun by Ulthar, Juno never has to fear the light of the day and vampires who drink her blood will have the same immunity. Additionally, no seraphim can ever harm her.

Vampiric: Unbeatable strength, speed and reflexes.

Juno: Able to manipulate the soul, she can alter the shape of it and transform people into monsters, or block their powers completely through physical touch.

weaknesses

Vessel: However durable, Juno, like all original vampires possesses a body in order to hold a physical presence in the mortal realm. If destroyed, she will need to find another host.

Otherworldly: If pierced through the heart by a stake made from a tree grown in the Otherworld, Juno will immediately petrify and turn to stone until the stake is removed.

Invitation: As a vampire Juno must ask permission to enter anyone’s place of residence.

Blood: Juno must feed in order to live, if she does not then she will slowly starve and turn feral, if she still does not feed then she will desiccate just like any other vampire before petrifying.

this skeleton is currently open.

#juno #openc #openf #openarchfiend

2 notes · View notes

marcellabelanades · 6 months

Text

Person: @ezekielurquhart Location: Cemetery notes: oh no She'd been foolish, too distracted to look behind her with Ciro on the ground dead. Or he might has well have been, dying and he'd refused her blood, didn't want to take it. If those damn creatures hadn't descended upon her, she might not have even left his body, she might have stayed there to die with him. But she'd made a promise, she'd made a promise and so with tear stained cheeks and blood and gore clinging to her she'd shambled towards the cemetery. It's not something she ever thought about, how much blood she had to lose now before she died. Because as she'd been knelt over Ciro's body, something, she didn't have time to focus on what, had stabbed her clean through the chest from the back. It'd happened so quickly she swore she only felt it afterwards, when the creature had pulled out her lungs and a heart that didn't beat anymore nearly out of her chest. Marcella's right hand rested over the hole now, clutching what is left of the organ that's practically out of her chest. But even as she moves through the winding cemetery, no matter how fast she's still able to move, she knows it is not for long, that this is a death march. "Zeke!" She calls out and blood bubbles forth from her mouth, drips down her chin and she barely makes it to where their graves are before her knees are hitting the ground and she's doubling over, desperately trying to put things back where they're supposed to be. She's crying but she's been crying this whole time, already mourning Ciro, already mourning the future that she said she and Zeke and their little Pluto nest would have. Vaguely she thinks she hears him but everything almost sounds muffled, as if she's been put underwater. Her free raises to his face the moment he's beside her, marking it with her blood. Their blood, the one he'd given new life to in a way. If a progeny died, the pain was supposed to be unimaginable, she can't believe she'll put him through something like that when she's already had a hand in putting him through so much already.

"D-don't cry. Not for-" It goes unfinished, she's loosing too much blood now, her body is desperately trying to heal itself, she can feel it, but it can't heal organs outright being removed, there's no way. More tears are shed because it's not supposed to be like this and she knows this is the last thing she is ever going to tell the man who had once been a boy she'd thought foolish all those years ago, the one that had grown to be her brother. Mustering whatever is left of her strength, she thinks about the conversation they'd had here the time before she'd turned. When they'd talked of the afterlife. When she'd told him she didn't believe in heaven but knew that's where his soul had to be, somewhere safe, somewhere good, somewhere he could be happy.

"You are in the best place because y-you are the best, you're the best of u-us." There's tears and there's blood everywhere and her body is giving up but she's smiling at him. He had such ambition, such trust in his coven as a witch, when he was alive. He was always there, he'd been so kind and helpful that she had actually resented him for it. As a vampire that kindness had come about tenfold, she couldn't believe he'd help her after everything, that he would willing take her under his wing and not just turn her, but accept her in ways she feared no one else ever really would. She's smiling at him and then her hand falls limply from his face, leaving a trail of blood in it's wake. Maybe wherever her soul winds up, there's a slim chance someone will take pity on her and reunite her with Ciro one last time.

#zeke 12.#the end.#gore tw #//im going into witness protection

2 notes · View notes

music-is-love-90 · 2 years

Text

A Dream of Starlight Ch. 2

A/N: Apparently I'm continuing this? I don't know.

Because you asked to be tagged: @wearebabygroot @pluto-ravensea

She had never known darkness. Astraea was the Lady of Stars; where she walked, starlight followed in her wake and yet she was in darkness. She didn’t know where she was or how she had come to be there and, for the first time in her existence…she was frightened.

She forced herself to calm before she truly began to panic. She needed to remember where she was, what had happened. It was important, she knew it.

Morpheus.

She felt the panic begin to return, along with the searing pain in her chest. She knew the wound had not actually been dealt to her, but to The Dreaming itself. Its King had been severed from it and where he once stood there was a gaping, bleeding hole that she could feel in her very being. She had never felt such pain in all her existence, and she wished with all her might that it would ease, that he would come and save her from this wretched darkness.

But no one came.

Slowly, so slowly that she didn’t even notice at first, the darkness began to recede, and she could breathe once more. Light began to seep in, and she became aware that she was in a bed. Someone sat nearby and she forced her eyes open.

“Morpheus?”

Her vision swam and solidified into the pumpkin headed form of Merv.

“No, my Lady,” he told her sadly. “Just me.”

“How long?”

“A few hours,” he reported. “I should tell Lucienne you’re awake.”

He hurried out the door as she sighed.

“I don’t sleep.” She pointed out to no one.

A moment passed, or maybe an eternity, and the door opened to admit the Royal Librarian.

“My Lady, you’re awake.”

“I do not sleep, Lucienne,” Astraea pointed out once more. She didn’t know why, but it was important that they understood that she did not sleep and therefore was not awake as she sat up. “Where is the Dream Lord?”

“Taken, my Lady,” the other woman told her. “Held by mortals in the Waking World.” She hesitated. “Can you find him? Bring him home?”

“My paths exist only in The Dreaming,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I could walk them until the end of time, but I would never find him. Dream of the Endless has been severed from his domain. Can you not feel it?”

Lucienne’s eyes went to where Astraea still clutched at her head and shook her head slowly.

“No, my Lady,” she admitted. “I did not even know something was amiss until you appeared in the Throne Room. You told me he was gone and, shortly after, Jessamy arrived, telling us of his capture.”

“Is she still here?”

Lucienne nodded and Astraea swung her legs over the side of the bed.

“Take me to her.”

~.~

Dream’s Raven sat on his throne, waiting for her.

“Is he alright?”

She didn’t mean to blurt out the question but, in that moment, it was the only thing her heart cared about.

The Raven inclined her head.

“He is whole and alive,” she reported, “but I hesitate to categorize him as alright. The mortals have taken his tools and locked him in a binding circle. He can still reach me, but it is difficult for him.”

“How can we free him?” Lucienne demanded. “The Dreaming cannot survive without him!”

“The wound caused by his capture will grow.” Astraea agreed. “If he does not return to heal the damage, The Dreaming will begin to fall.”

“I can travel between the realms, but I am not strong enough to free him,” Jessamy said. “Perhaps one of the others – “

“No,” Astraea cut her off. “The Endless are not supposed to interfere in the affairs of their siblings without being invited in. Even those, such as Death, who would be inclined in our Lord’s favor would not risk his ire by interfering. Our King must free himself and we must do all we can to ensure he has a kingdom to return to.”

“How are we to do that?” Lucienne demanded. “Lord Morpheus is the heart of The Dreaming. It will start to crumble without him.”

Astraea could feel the path calling her. She had remained still for too long and she knew she would be forced on her way soon. She closed her eyes, seeing in her mind how the path she walked joined The Dreaming together and knew what she must do.

“I can do it.” She told the others softly. “I can hold The Dreaming together. The path I walk connects me to the fabric of this realm. It won’t be as strong or secure as when Morpheus is here, but I can do it.”

“My Lady…” Lucienne said slowly, “it will be painful for you. You are not meant to be the heart of The Dreaming and we have no way of knowing how long you will have to hold.”

Astraea could see the path, feel it calling to her, and she knew that her eons of walking had worn it into The Dreaming itself. She and it were a part of the realm, far more than she had ever known. She briefly wondered if this was why she had been set on her path in the beginning, for this very moment, but she let the thought fade.

“I can hold,” she told Lucienne, “for as long as is required. Jessamy, you are the only one of us who can traverse the realms. Do what you must to free our King.”

“Of course, my Lady.”

The Raven took flight and disappeared a moment later.

“My Lady – “

“I must begin my trek anew,” Astraea interrupted the Librarian. “The path calls me.”

“Be safe, my Lady.” Lucienne said softly and Astraea gave her a small smile.

“You as well.”

Astraea took a deep breath and took her first step.

Pain worse than anything she had ever felt tore through her body. The Dreaming fought her, resisting her attempts to draw it to her. The realm knew she was not its master and so it resisted her call. She took her next step and it almost drove her to her knees. Tears streamed down her face as she took her next step and the step after that. She was going to tear apart and nothing she could do would stop it…

So, she let it happen.

The Dreaming ripped her apart at the very base level of her. She no longer had form as she flowed down every path she had ever trod. She was everywhere, all at once. She was nowhere. She stepped forward and found it was easier this time. She stopped fighting to continue on the path she had always walked and allowed The Dreaming to take her where it willed.

Her steps became must easier after that even as they were still just as painful. The Dreaming was willing to let her continue, but it knew she was trying to stand in a place not meant for her. So, she endured the pain and walked the path set before her, just as she had always done, and she held.

It was not perfect. The edges still crumbled but, with every excruciating step, she held the framework of The Dreaming together. She walked and walked and walked until every step felt like broken glass and still, she walked. She walked until she lost herself completely. The Lady of Stars was gone; all that was left was the path.

And still, she walked.

Time had no meaning, not that it ever really did. She had been walking a million years; she had barely begun.

And still, she walked.

She no longer believed it would ever end. She remembered that she was waiting for someone to return, someone who would save her from this torment, but he is long lost to her. She thought he used to talk to her and that she enjoyed his company, but his face, his voice, it was all gone. All there was was the path and never-ending pain.

And still, she walked.

“Well met, Lady of Stars.”

Astraea (for that was her name, she remembered now) screamed as arms wrapped around her, every touch upon her skin like a knife. She screamed and screamed as the arms held her tighter, pulling her back together.

And then it was over, and she could open her eyes.

“Morpheus.”

The King of Dreams smiled softly down at her, and she began to weep.

“Rest, little star,” he told her, lifting her into his arms. “I have returned, and it is time to rest.”

Astraea closed her eyes, safe in the knowledge that he would allow no pain to reach her in his arms, and let herself slip once more into painless black.

#The Sandman #The Sandman Netflix #Dream of the Endless #Morpheus #Dream x ofc #Still maybe

4 notes · View notes