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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 3 months

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02/02/2024 Daily Recap

TLDR; SaveOFMDCrew Tumblr Updates; How To Help; Twitter Hashtags; Daily Lists; Reminders: Appreciation Events; Live Rewatch OFMD Party with Q+; Operation Auxiliary Wardrobe; Cast & Crew Sightings; New Watch Partys; Actually reasonable Articles; Stats; Petition Status; Morale; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika

= Save OFMD Crew Tumblr Up =

The SaveOFMDCrew Tumblr is finally up and running! Due to some weirdness with accounts they'll be under @saveofmdcrewmates as opposed to the regular name. This will have the same news as the other platforms so feel free to give them a follow.

== How To Help ==

Twitter folks: looks like @SaveOFMDCrew as well as several other people who've been leading the charge on twitter wanted to remind everyone on when to use what hashtags. Apparently there's been some cross pollination and they wanted to try and clear it up. Thank you to @havethisonelife for summarising.

Haterade Posts:

#OhBloysHeMad , #TheNumbersWereThere, #FinishOurStories Avoid: #DontStreamOnMax

When Advertising ourselves:

#SaveOFMD #AdoptOurCrew

Horny Posts:

No tags (Edit: @SaveOFMDCrew said it was ok to use #OurFlagMeansDeath on horny posts, just no other tags).

Suggestions for How to Help

Looking for ways to help? There are still daily ideas for you here: How To Help Save OFMD Task List - US How to Help Save OFMD Task List - Outside US

==Reminders!==

Cast Appreciation Events!

Tomorrow is Day of Damien! A day to shower Damien Gerard (Father Teach) with support and kindness for all he's done for our fandom! He has been hitting #SaveOFMD events pretty hard trying to support us!

When to start: Saturday February 3rd, 6 AM CST, 7 AM ET, 4 AM PT, 12 PM GMT Hashtags: #DayOfDamien

His Social Media Accounts:

Linktree (has his cashapp, etc) / Instagram / Twitter / Twitch / Tiktok

== Live - Rewatch Party with Q+! ==

This rewatch party is particularly important because the crew is really trying to get people hyped for the BBC launch of s2 on Feb 5. Everyone is hoping that if the s2 launch in the UK shows huge interest it'll be a huge boon for the potential for s3 with the networks.

Sunday Feb 4, 2 PM GMT / 9 AM ET / 6 AM PT

Watch Party Hashtags:

#OurFlagMeansRewatch

#AdoptOurCrew

#SaveOFMD

#OurFlagBBC

=Operation Auxiliary Wardrobe=

Do you do applique, crochet, cross stitch, embroidery, knitting, needle felt or any other textile-based OFMD Art? Wanna join a fun group of participants? Starting next week there will be a recruiting drive for a new fabric+thread project mid-month if people are interested! If you want to jump in now you can message @ForceMonument on twitter, otherwise other avenues will be opened sometime in the coming weeks!

=Cast & Crew Sightings =

This is from 01/26/2024 but I missed it and I feel like it needs to be shared. Dominic Burgess being a goofball badass as Jeffrey Fettering singing a 18th century version of the Friends theme song. <3 (Apologies for the quality of the video, I had to record it off my screen so people didn't have to go to Twitter). Twitter Post.

Wee John Wednesdays Mondays are back!

Mon 5th Feb, 10.30pm on Kristian Nairn's Instagram

=NEW WATCH PARTIES =

You can see a running list of current/upcoming watch parties here.

Thank you @libbyroseitm for the new Watch Party!

Uncle Season 1 watch party on i-player. Thurs 15th + Fri 16th Feb (GMT - 8 PM , ET - 3PM, PST - 12 PM)

Catered specifically for the UK crew, but we'd be thrilled for anyone else using VPN's to join in too! Here's an article on how to join via VPN

WatchParty Hashtags:

#ForTheNewUncle

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

== Articles ==

Finally! The Q+ Article is wonderful and very uplifting.

Our Flag Means Death: Why It Deserves to Find a New Harbor

The 10 best TV shows to watch this week, from Mr and Mrs Smith to One Day

Hairy Bikers Go West, Death In Paradise and Wheel of Fortune: TV highlights this week

The Uncertain Fate of “Our Flag Means Death” Season 3: A Closer Look

Every show canceled so far in 2024

Netflix adds one of ‘the best shows of 2022’ after it was dropped by HBO Max

== STATS ==

Thanks to @Seven_Sugars over on twitter for this info and analysis.

Also, as always, more fun stats from @meowzawowza on twitter from the Netherlands.

== Petition Status ==

Almost to 84K signatures friends!

== Morale ==

I know we're ending day 24 of being the Gravy Basket. It's been a lonnnnng several weeks. We haven't heard from chaos dad in around a week now, so it may seem again like things are slowing down again. As several folks have mentioned before, not every day can be ground breaking, but seeing everyone in the community getting together, having fun with watch parties, discussing ofmd meta, making new art and fanfiction, it feels like the momentum is still there. We often don't see many updates on the weekend so take this time to relax, take a break, maybe do the rewatch party if you have time on Sunday. I did want to bring up, this article on The Tourist is cool because it highlights that HBOMax has cancelled some very highly rated shows in the past and Netflix has picked up on them-- and while we didn't see anything from the 2024 Netflix announcements (as @poison-into-positivity mentioned, even if it was picked up it wouldn't be for 2024) that doesn't mean it's not still a possibility. So don't give up hope. It's going to take some time to get through to the networks, and we'll keep keeping at it.

If you are feeling down or concerned, be sure to reach out to your fellow crew, we're all here for you.

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. You are so incredibly strong, do you know that? No matter what's going on in your life, you're still here. Every single day you get back up, and you keep going. That is incredibly powerful, and incredibly strong, and don't let anyone tell you any different. Do you think our buddy Rhys let's anyone tell him he's not the baddest ass mf on the planet? Nope.

If all you did today was get out of bed, or take a shower, or walk your dog, and nothing else, you kicked today's ass. If you wrote fanfiction, or watched a tv show, you kicked today's ass. They say that "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and while I see where that phrase is coming from I like to think of it a bit differently. What doesn't kill you, gives you a glimpse of just how strong you already were. You are the reason you are kind, you are the reason you are strong, you are the reason you continue to grow. You. Outside forces can help shape you, but you have always been strong even when you have felt your weakest, it's just not always easy to see. That strength is so important, and so is your need to rest. Remember to take a break from all the stressors of your life, whether that be a shower, or a 5 minute walk, or a day or a week away from the internet, whatever works for you. Even the strongest bridge in the world can break when there's too much weight on it. That doesn't mean the bridge is any less strong, it means something extremely heavy pushed it past its limits. Anyway, enough of my ramblings, just please know, everyone out here in the crew are so incredibly proud of you, we're rooting for you, and we're so very grateful you're still here with us.

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Speaking of resting....Reminder! No recap for 02/03/2024 unless someone else wants to do one! Please feel free to, obviously! I will be off drinking after taking a dip in some hotsprings and then watching OFMD with two friends who have yet to see it. So if I show up lurking and drunk-tumblr you all, I sincerely apologize, but I hope if I do that drunk Abby is at least amusing. Love yall <3

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== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

If you wanna see someone else other than these two in these gifs from OFMD let me know, we can switch it up a bit.

#ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #renew as a crew #edward teach #save ofmd #rhys darby #blackbonnet #save our flag means death #Taika Waititi #adopt our crew #ofmd renewal #renew our flag means death

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oliversrarebooks · 4 months

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The Rare Bookseller Part 35: Oliver's Walk

Previous Masterlist Next

September 1925

TW: Captivity, mind control

Oliver woke up slowly, stretching and yawning and rolling over several times to doze off again, before finally sitting up.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so well. He was utterly relaxed as he lounged in bed, with nothing particularly pressing driving him out of his soft cocoon of blankets. He was free to daydream about what had happened the night before, how pleasing he'd been to his master.

He'd successfully fed his master, made him happier and stronger, fulfilled the purpose Miss Lily had set for him back at the auction house, and it felt just as good as he'd hoped it would. Better, truly.

It was late afternoon, and the sun was low in the sky, so he had some time before Alexander awoke. He didn't even really seem to have particular duties here besides the feedings and making his master coffee. He'd have plenty of time to have breakfast and read.

Before too long, he was in the library with a steaming hot mug, perusing the books once again and trying to pick out something to sit down with. He chose a comprehensive-looking book on merfolk, bound in attractive teal letter with embossed silver ink, and was delighted to find that it was illustrated with many interesting plates of strange sea creatures.

All of this was real -- merfolk, vampires, magic -- and he was a part of it.

It felt right, the distress of how he'd arrived here slowly starting to ebb from his mind. It was just so comfortable here in his Master's library, curled into a leather sofa with a mug of rich coffee.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, forcing Oliver to ignite a gas lamp to have enough light to read, he remembered that he wanted to make fresh coffee for his master as he awoke. It was the least he could do, really.

He bought you at auction, you were kidnapped --

Oliver pushed aside the unhelpful intrusion as he bustled about the kitchen. He was here now, with no means of escape. Wasn't it better to be contented with it?

"Good evening, Oliver," said Alexander from the kitchen doorway. "I thought I smelled coffee. Thank you for making it."

"You're welcome, sir," said Oliver, pleased to be helpful. His master really did look much healthier, his eyes brighter and skin less deathly pale, and he was glad to see it.

Useful, he was useful. And wanted.

Alexander sipped at the coffee, and nodded in approval. "The weather is fine tonight, if a bit brisk. I was thinking some fresh air would do me good. Would you care to accompany me on my walk?"

"Yes, sir!" Oliver eagerly jumped at the chance. He hadn't been outside for more than a few minutes ever since the night he'd been kidnapped.

Soon enough, he was perusing his wardrobe for something warm that didn't expose his neck, and settled on a soft red flannel shirt and slacks. Everything fit him perfectly, which made sense given that his master had his measurements from the auction house.

And then his master opened the front door, and he was out in the cool night air, in the ordinary bustle of the city, unrestrained except for the very real fetters on his mind. Alexander just trusted him to stand on the sidewalk and wait patiently while he fiddled with the key to the mansion. Oliver glanced around at the ordinary people going about their usual nightly business. A workman in overalls tipped his hat and bid Oliver good evening. No one would ever have guessed that he was in thrall to a vampire.

"How about the park?" Alexander wrapped around Oliver's arm possessively as they began to make their way down the street, stirring up the deeply buried desires Oliver had often felt while watching other people walk down the street arm-in-arm. Even if they were master and thrall and not lovers or even truly friends... perhaps he was affection starved enough that simply feeling wanted was enough.

He couldn't help but notice how passersby seemed to instinctually give them a wide berth. It was no doubt a result of his Master's vampiric aura. How had he not sensed it before, when Alexander was a customer in his shop? Or had he, and it was one of the things that had interested him in his former patron long before he realized Alexander's true nature?

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it? Crisp and clear," said Alexander, He gazed up at the sky, and Oliver's gaze followed. The moon was half-full and bright stars were visible, with no clouds in sight. "An ideal night for stargazing. Perhaps I'll perch myself on the roof later. You're welcome to join me. I could teach you how to read the stars."

"You know fortune-telling, sir?"

"A dear friend of mine taught me," he said. "I don't put real stock in it, of course. Comforting fairy tales."

"I've rather always enjoyed comforting fairy tales, sir."

"As do I."

They passed a grand theater, where well-dressed patrons in fine suits and furs were lining up to see an evening performance. Alexander stopped to look at the scene. "Do you enjoy live music, Oliver? The theater? Stage performances in general?"

"It's not something I partook in often, sir, but I think I would enjoy it, given a chance." Money had often been tight, movies were cheap, and books were always at hand, so the sort of high society entertainment offered by the theater Alexander was pointing out to him had not been a priority.

"The next performance at this theater is going to be a renowned ballet company from France. I've been spending too much time hidden away in my manor lately, so I was thinking of attending. Would you be interested?"

"Me, sir?" He was surprised that his master was inviting him along to the ballet, as though he were a companion and not a thrall. "I think it'd be very interesting, but I don't know the etiquette. I don't want to embarrass you, sir."

"Nonsense, you wouldn't embarrass me in the slightest. You're perfectly conditioned and I would set out an appropriate wardrobe for you. You wouldn't have to worry about a thing other than enjoying the dance. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds more than agreeable, sir," he said, pleased that his master trusted him, and that he would be allowed entertainment and pleasurable outings.

They reached the park, and the moon and flickering gaslights gave just enough light for Oliver to see the trees turning red and gold. It'd be the height of fall soon enough, and he'd been looking forward to fresh apples and cooler temperatures. Now, he was just grateful to be here in the park, with the chill night wind blowing across his face -- during his time in the auction house's captivity, he had often feared never seeing the outside again.

"Oliver," said Alexander, breaking his train of thought. "I would like to get to know you better."

Oliver looked away. "I'm afraid there isn't a lot to get to know, sir. You already know of my bookshop, which consumed the bulk of my time."

"I'm sure there's more than that." His intense eyes bore down on Oliver. "I wish for you to be happy while you're in my care. What is it that you want? I'll try to provide, if I can."

Was this a test? "I wish to serve you, Master?"

The displeased look in his Master's eyes indicated that that wasn't the answer he wanted. "I mean before all this. Before me, before vampires. I want to honestly know what it was you desired from life."

He was a bit stunned that his master had even asked that, surprised that he could still have desires other than feeding and serving the vampire. What did he want?

Growing up, he hadn't had much in the way of dreams. Dreams were for the books he read. His designated path was to inherit the bookshop from his ailing father and run it according to his best instincts -- and he'd been reasonably content with that future. Other dreams, of seeing the world, of adventure and romance, of art and culture, those had always seemed so far away, meant for other people. There was no use in trading a comfortable, ordinary life to chase something risky. He'd never been the sort.

Strange, then, that the first time in a long time that he'd given serious thought to what he wanted in life was after being imprisoned and conditioned.

He trusted his master. He didn't think he would be punished for speaking his mind. He'd said there would be no punishments, after all.

"I would like to travel, sir," he said softly. "I always wanted to see more of the world than this small city. To enjoy different cultures, to see the sights I read about in books... but money was always tight, and I had the bookshop to look after, and the idea of leaving home was overwhelming. But that's one thing I think I might want."

"Indeed. I'm much the same." Alexander sighed. "Unfortunately, I'm as trapped in the city as you, the curse of my sire. Otherwise, I would happily take you along to travel the world. Someday..."

"Why has your sire trapped you in the city, sir?"

"What else would you desire?" said his master, as though he hadn't heard the question. "There must be something in my power to grant you."

Something smaller, perhaps. "I enjoy sketching, although I've never been good at it. If I could have a notebook and pencils."

"Of course, that's no trouble at all. I'll locate the finest supplies in the city. Anything else?"

"Well... I spent a great deal of my time thinking about the supernatural, sir," said Oliver. "Now that I know that the inhabitants of fairy tales and horror stories are real, I think I'd enjoy learning all that I can about them."

Alexander brightened at this. "Now, that's absolutely within my wheelhouse. When we return to the manor, I can put together an assortment of books that will serve as a primer on the actual supernatural world, not the fantasies imagined by humans," he said. "There are places I could take you to meet more of my kind, and others besides. Social clubs I don't often frequent, but would be welcome. I could keep you safe."

"Oh, can you?" said a snide voice behind them.

His master whipped around in a flash, pushing Oliver behind him. It was a young woman in a torn, dirty red dress, her messy hair falling around her face. "You've got a real treat there, don't you?" she said, grinning. "He smells delicious, and I'm awfully hungry."

"Newly sired," Alexander said. "I advise you against challenging vampires like me unless you are sure you can win. There's plenty of blood in the city, but also plenty of vampire hunters, and a fight could attract their attention."

"What's a little attention? I'm not just hungry for blood, you know. I'm hungry to take down cocky old vampires like you who haven't been challenged in a century. I think -- I think --"

His Master's vampiric aura had been growing unbearably thick and oppressive as they talked. Oliver found all thoughts being forced from his mind, fighting the urge to drop to his knees in a daze. The other vampire seemed to be struggling just as much, her speech faltering and knees shaking.

"I remember what it was like to be a young vampire," said Alexander, stopping a few steps away form her. "That's why I'm going to give you a chance to leave. Go to 32 Sparrow Road, about a mile and a half from here, and you'll find a place that sells blood cheap. Have your fill there."

The vampire nodded slowly, and then faster, backing away from his master and breaking into a run.

"You scared her off," said Oliver, as his thoughts began to return to him.

"It's the best way to handle situations like this. It's unlikely she'll last out the winter, but I don't care to be the one to kill her. Even if she's learned her lesson about confronting stronger vampires, she'll probably be picked off by a hunter while stalking the streets for food." Alexander shrugged. "In fact, if there are fledglings about, there are probably hunters. Let's go home before we receive any more unwanted company."

Oliver wasn't sure if it was his imagination or if Alexander really was gripping him more tightly on their way back to the manor.

"Let me check the mail before we go inside," said Alexander, pulling a few cards from the box. "Oh, a calling card from Lily. I suppose she did say she would be by for a social call soon. And she wants to bring Ruth." He turned to Oliver. "I believe you've met Lily's thrall, Miriam. Ruth will probably bring her favorite thrall, Charlie. You'll have someone to talk to that isn't a vampire."

"That sounds very good, sir." Oliver was surprised yet again, as he didn't expect to be allowed to socialize with other thralls. Miriam wasn't much of a conversationalist, but perhaps this Charlie would be better.

His master was flipping through a few more envelopes until he reached one plastered with stickers and stamps. Overseas mail, it seemed to be. Alexander's face lit up in a way Oliver hadn't seen before. "Let's go in."

Alexander only stopped briefly to remove his shoes and coat before heading into the library, Oliver trailing behind. He tossed the rest of the mail down on the desk before fetching a letter opener and ripping open the mail that had captured his attention. His eyes traveled back and forth rapidly, his smile growing.

"Sir?" said Oliver, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Oliver," said Alexander, startled as though he'd forgotten Oliver was there. "My dear friend is arriving for a short visit in the next few weeks."

"You seem very pleased about this, sir," he said. "Is your friend also a vampire?"

"You have nothing to fear. He'll like you."

He noticed that Alexander didn't say that Oliver would like him.

"I was going to put together a reading list for you, wasn't I?" said his master, breezing past Oliver and into the stacks, that uncharacteristic smile still plastered on his face. "Let me put that together, and that will occupy you while I compose my response to my friend."

Oliver nodded, questions swirling in his mind, unsure which, of any, to ask, and feeling that Alexander was likely to dodge them all.

Previous Masterlist Next

A bit of an interlude before the shit hits the fan.

I'm trying to build up a bit of a buffer so that I can continue weekly postings of the main story, and then I hope to burn down some of this inbox backlog...

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives

#whump #whump writing #whumper #whumpee #vampire whumper #vampire #mind control #captivity #rare bookseller #alexander #oliver

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dailyadventureprompts · 11 months

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Villain: Brother Humble, the Unlikely Usurper

Your party has been hired to escort a delivery to a monestary high in the mountains, not the most glorious job, but it pays well. Word is that an early frost has stirred up the monsters in the region and has the local bandits looking to fill their larders before the snows force folk off the roads. Best to be quick, quiet, and be ready for anything.

It’s a hard few days trekking up the mountains, and the heroes’ feet are aching by the time they catch sight of their destination. The monks are happy to welcome them but even more happy to receive what they carry: A large reinforced box containing the bones of one of the members of their order, lost for some years while she was out on pilgrimage and now finally returned home to rest. Such an act of charity has more than earned the party a few nights of rest and hospitality and the monks, who happen to be as skilled brewers as they are devout souls, are more than happy to provide. Among the crowd of holy hermits the party might just notice a dour faced monk in fraying robes unloading their cart despite wearing ankle fetters, though their hosts ask them to pay no mind: Brother Humble is always in a sour mood and not even an act of god is going to change that.

Screams wake the party that night, followed by sound of the great bell and the smell of smoke. The monks are being slaughtered, and before they can do a thing about it the part of the monastery they’re staying in catches fire. Just as they’re forced to flee they catch sight of Brother Humble, smiling toothlessly as he runs one of the other monks through with a sword of unearthly black metal, laughing as the world around him burns.

Adventure Hooks:

Trying to divert the mad monk from his slaughter turns out to be a hopeless task, as despite the fact that the old man should barely be able to lift the sword he fights with an inhuman strength and speed and a skill that far eclipses the party’s best. He’ll toy with them at first but should any of the heroes try to make a stand he’ll make sure to give them something to remember him by: a brutal scar, a missing hand, a burn as he presses their body up against the building as it goes up in flames. Should they somehow manage to hold their own he’ll bring the whole place down on top of their heads, leaving them to wake up and pull themselves free of the rubble in the morning.

Though well protected in a concealed compartment within the saint’s bone box, there’s a chance the sword will be discovered during the journey either because of the party’s curiosity or a random encounter mishap. In such a case, the party will feel a calm will wash over them as they inspect the blade, a presence intoning that they are a sacred weapon sought by the monk, and it was sent to the monastery so that a great wrong may be righted. What the party do from that point is up to them, though their might be forces that would steal the sword back should they wander too far astray.

If you’re using this adventure as the launchpad for a campain, consider the party ending the first leg of their journey taking a rest at a local outpost, or friendly mountain town before continuing on to the monastery. Not only will it give your party a break from the action and a chance to connect before shit goes down, but it will also prove a poignant moment when they limp back into the haven with whatever few survivors managed to escape the massacre.

Background: Before he was a monk the man known as brother humble was named Firodon and he was the disinherited elder sibling of the realm’s previous soverign. Born to rule and a peerless swordsman, Firodon was unfortunately a monster who awnsered any flaw or failure with anger and delighted in petty acts of violence. He wasn’t thinking of the consequences when he dangled his youngest sister over the castle ramparts, he just wanted the brat to know her place. The ensuing fall would mean the girl would always need a chair to get around and showed the king and queen that their eldest was unfit to inherit their name, letalone a crown.

A hunting accident was contrived, and while it would have been easiler (and saved everyone else a lot of grief in the longrun) to put a bolt through the back of prince Firodon’s head his parents were goodhearted people, and thought that with a little guidance the boy might grow beyond his wickedness outside the pressures of royal expectation. And so a body was produced, a story concocted, trusted servants sword to secrecy. Firodon was dragged to the monestary in chains and finally humbled. The queen and king might’ve been right in their thinking. Though Humble raged at the indignity of his birthright denied, life in the abby was good for him. The rigors of life living so far from the palace gave him an outlet for the energy that spurred his darkest impulses, and the monks were not affraid to correct him when he was wrong, as so many others had when he was crown prince. He was not happy, he never allowed himself to be, but he found peace, or atleast he would have had the sword dreams not started.

Firodon’s family decended from an ancient line that first rose to power through a compact with Orcus, the now dead god of oaths, part of which involved the bestowal of Dominion, darksteel sword of great power and the service of a spirit set to watch over and guard the royal house. Working from behind the scenes this spirit served Firodon’s parents faithfully, as was its role, but upon their deaths its protection transfered not to their chosen heir but to their displaced eldest child who had never abdicated and was thus the “rightful” king in accordance with the ancient pact. Since that day it has been working tirelessly to put the sword in Firodon’s hand and see him back on the throne regardless of how much blood it needs to shed in order to do so.

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#villain #low level #mountain #highlands #Cursed item #Press Start #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #pathfinder #project black flag #rpg #ttrpg

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gayuu-the-necromancer · 9 months

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William Rex Chapter 19

｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

William: "....I remember wiping the blood of your cheeks the night we met."

Blood-red fingertips gently caress Kate's cheeks.

Meanwhile, an increasingly pervasive red invades her white clothing.

----Like a flower that knows when to bloom and change colour.

William: "I've been thinking about it ever since."

William: "Red really suits you."

----FLASHBACK----

Wiiliam: "You may want to be with me, but you won't want a tragic end. Unless you have a strong desire to do so."

William: "If you stay with me, you must accept my destiny and that will trouble, sadden, and distress you...as you work on your heart."

William: "Helplessness and guilt kill desire. It is a fetter that robs us of our freedom....You know this all too well."

----FLASHBACK ENDS----

William: "...So this is your answer to my destiny."

The red coloring on Kate's body indicate a clear rejection of William's desired destruction.

Whether William wants to ruin himself or reject Kate's love.

"I will not allow that to happen"

"It is my way of living freely that I do not kill that desire"

William: "........"

Suddenly, a faint smile appeared on William's lips.

A little troubled color on the lovingly relaxed eyes.

William: "The possibility of living with me, huh?"

William: "....I never thought it would be proved this way."

William: "For sure, now you're free and...."

William: "It's the most beautiful thing I've even seen."

Immediately afterwards, an insidious, angry voice tore the silence apart.

Inspector: "What's going on here?...Hey you! I gave you that knife!"

Inspector: "Why is Rex still alive? Who is this woman?"

Female prisoner: "I...I saw her at the tea party...maybe his lover....?"

Inspector: "If she is his lover then she's a bad guy too. Don't hesitate now! Prove your innocence!"

Young prisoner: "Nn....Ngh....!"

A young man holds up the blood-soaked knife as if he is being driven by the Inspector.

Liam: "....I won't let you."

Young prisoner: "Agh!!? Who is that...!?"

Immediately afterwards, the young man's arm stopped moving, as if something had grabbed him.

Liam: "Stay still...I won't do anything to you."

Liam: "Forgive me Katie, Will...I'll do better now. I...I won't make any mistakes...."

Younger prisoner: "Wh-Where the hell...is this voice coming from!?"

The young man was frightened by a maniacal voice coming from the void.

Brian: "Wait...!"

An out-of-breath Brian tumbles between the young man and William and the others, dragging his leg.

Brian: "I promised! But for now, I'm going to tell you...!"

Brian: "Don't hurt them...!"

William: "....."

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Young prisoner: "....Wh-What's going on....what's happening here? What's happening!?"

The knife slips from the upset young man's hand and rolls to the floor.

Pressured by Brian's pleas, the other prisoners fell silent.

William: "Thanks Brian. And also...my cat, who can't be seen by others."

William: "But the dedication to advocacy is too much to bear. Just relax and take it easy."

William: "Now, Inspector."

Inspector: "Ugh...I don't care anymore! Get him!"

William: "Hahaha! Don't be so frightened. I just wanna talk. 'Tell me the name of the man who is in charge of this case."

Inspector: "...Ngh...D-Deputy general! Shit!"

William: "I see. But you also have collaborators outside the police force, don't you? 'Answer me."

Inspector: "....I don't know....!"

William: "Hmm....indeed. He's not so stupid as to reveal information to the field?"

William: "Thank you for your cooperation, Inspector. It was very helpful. Now, 'Keep your mouth shut and don't move from the spot."

HeI watched as the Inspector became as still as a stone.

William: "........"

William lovingly placed Kate's arm, which hung weakly, on her abdomen.

Then he picked her up again, gently so as not to shock her.

William: "I need to ask my cat for a favor, if you don't mind."

Liam: "....Mm, yes?"

William: "I...I need you to take her to 'our' doctor."

Liam: "Yes. I'll make sure she's safe. ....But what about you, Will?"

William: "I've got a few more things left to do here."

William stared at Kate in the arms of the transparent Liam for a few seconds.

William: "....Not right away, but I'll come home."

Liam: ".....Mm, I understand."

As Kate disappears into the darkness of the tower in Liam's arms.

William turned to the stunned prisoners and smiled graciously.

William: "Now...for all the good and bad people who pointed knives at 'my' robin."

William: "Unfortunately, you are all going to be manipulated by me, once again."

Prisoner: "Ngh....?"

Brian: "Sir Rex, what are you...!?"

William: "All of you form a single line and follow me."

Brian: ".....Nn....!"

The moment he stood up on command, Brian's face contorted in pain.

William: "Ah, is your leg injured? Are there other prisoners who are injured severely?"

Brian: "Y-Yes..."

William: "It looks like they need to be handled differently. ......'The injured will remain here until they are picked up."

William: "It is not necessary for everyone to be present at the parade. It's the formality and the impression that counts."

William: "Come on, let's go. It's gonna be a busy night."

｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

Before dawn.

The city of London was supposed to be shrouded in fog and silence, but that day there was a strange buzz in the air.

Citizen of London: "What's going on...? Is this a parade?"

Citizen of London: "I didn't hear anything about this."

The diligent workers who have work early in the morning,

The night watchman rushes in on the sound of murmurs as he wakes up from the sound of footsteps.

Male prisoner: "Please help me! My legs...they're moving on their own.....!"

Female prisoner: "My leg hurts....please stop...please...."

The line of people obediently moving their feet, with tired, disheveled faces, asked for help.

It was a bizarre sight, as if they had just knocked a corpse out of the grave and formed it into a line.

William: "Morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing...."

Only William, at the head of the line, sings in a good mood.

The joyful singing stopped with the sound of the prisoners' footsteps as they reached the square.

William: "Coachmen, shoe shiner, janitor, the policemen, the gossiping baker...."

William: "Ah...and the postmen, of course. That's about enough witnesses."

Counting the gazes of fearful and curious onlookers, William muttered.

Seeing this, the young man opened his mouth as if he couldn't stand it.

Younger prisoner: ".....Hey...Mr....William. What are thinking....?"

William: "I don't understand your question. Could you be more clear?"

Young prisoner: "Is that article about you, true? I don't....know what to believe in anymore....."

Young prisoner: "Why did you come to the tower? Why did you bring us all the way down here....!?"

William: "Well of course---"

William: "I'm going to execute you all."

Young prisoner: "Ngh.....!?"

William: "Especially you. You pointed a knife at me, right?"

William: "And you even hurt my robin."

Young prisoner: "Ah..Ahh...I...."

William: "....Now, how should I do it?"

William walked up to the immobile young man and touched his throat.

William: "If I give you an order right now, you won't resist."

William: "I didn't get to see much blood in the Tower of London, so...I'm starving."

William: "Should I have your throat slit? or...ask you to gouge out your heart?"

The moment a fingertip came down his throat and poked him in the chest with a thud.

Young prisoner: "Ha..Haa....! Please no, please no! Help me....someone please help me!!"

The young prisoner's drawn-out cry for help brought the witnesses back to themselves, who were unable to process the situation.

Policemen: "What are you doing!?"

Policemen: "It's William Rex! Seize him!"

William: "Ahahaha! Nice scream."

William laughed in a high-pitched laugh when he quickly moved away from the young man.

William: "The countermeasure to the cover-up is the uncontrollable testimony of an unspecified number of witnesses and the market is set."

William: "Thanks for the best reaction, Charlie."

Charlie: "........Eh."

William: "From now on 'be your own master."

｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

William: "From now on 'be your own master."

At William's words, the prisoners who had been manipulated slumped to the ground.

Charlie: "....My name..."

Policemen: "Ah!? Hey, are you all okay!?"

Policemen: "Wait...what did you do to them!?"

William: "Don't come after me."

Policemen: "Nn!?"

William: "Take my message to the senior ranking officers of the London police...especially to the Deputy commissioner."

William: "If you don't want to be subjected to the same abuse, don't even think about incriminating them again."

William: "Well then, have a good day."

William said that with a single order as he would shut down the tracker.

The only thing that remained was a smile, and then he disappeared into the morning mist.

............

(.....Is this a dream?)

I found myself standing at the entrance to the Great Hall of Crown Castle.

(What happened....)

I am dazed and cannot recall the situation well.

William can be seen at the far end of the hall.

William has his back turned, though he won't look back.

For some reason, I felt like..... he is waiting for me.

(I can't move my body....but I want to talk to you)

-----Options-----

I'm coming to you.

Don't go far.

Until I'm with you.

--------

Kate: "Until I'm with you...."

Kate: "....Please stay safe."

I had to shout for him to hear, but my voice shook unreliably.

But William, whose back was still turned, seemed to get the message.

William: ".....Don't worry, Kate."

When I looked down to move my feet, I saw bottomless darkness.

Before I knew it, my consciousness had been sucked back into darkness----

............

Liam: "Katie is going to be alright, right? She not going to die, right? Roger?"

Roger: "I stitched up the wound and it wasn't very deep. I guess the guy who stabbed...was hesitating a little bit."

Roger: "But she has lost a fair amount of blood. It's up to this young lady to wake up now."

Liam's eyes were shifting unsteadily in front of Kate's prone body.

The day after the disturbances at the Tower of London and the Dawn Parade.

Kate was carried to the Crown Castle and has yet to wake up,

William's whereabouts were also unknown.

Roger: "Is he ever coming back?"

Roger: "That bastard who is responsible for putting this young lady in such a state and not to mention, not coming to check on her."

Liam: "It's too late for that. Will is a bad man who will never belong to anyone, no matter how much he tries to mislead people."

Liam: "....Or he used to be."

Liam looked Kate's sleeping face.

Liam: "When we parted, I looked at Kate and she was making a face I'd never seen before."

Liam: ".....'I'll come back, I promise.' is what her face said."

Roger: "Well, whatever it is...Kate would probably be more comfortable on a bed in her room than on a hard bed like this one."

Roger: "Let's bring her to her room then, shall we?"

Elbert: "...............I will carry her."

Roger: "Whoa! El, there you are... Hm? And what did you just say?"

Elbert: "I will carry her."

｡⋆｡˚🦋˚｡⋆｡

Elbert slowly laid Kate on the bed.

Elbert: "......."

She remains asleep, breathing shallowly.

Elbert: "...............Once you wake up, I want to ask you something."

Elbert: "....Depending on your answer, I....might want you." (wait for your route :/)

Elbert sat down on the bedside chair and did not touch or speak.

He simply stared at her with his ocean-blue eyes.

All the way to...daylight, as if hoping that those eyelids will open and give him the answers he wanted.

............

-----That night. One journalist ran into the post office.

Post master: "Mr. Brian....!?"

Brian, looking exhausted and emaciated, crowded into the director's office.

Brian: "I need you to deliver these."

Brian: "If you take it to the newspapers, I'm sure they'll cover it up...I want you to tell them. Tell them my confession."

.......

----In the muddy darkness, a silent lullaby can be heard.

'Who killed cock robin....who killed cock robin.....'

It's very calm, gentle and inviting.

(I need to wake up....)

(He is waiting)

The singing brings the body back to its senses.

Consciousness emerges from the depths of darkness.

(I want to see you now)

???: "....Oh my darling robin. Please answer my curtain call."

When I woke up, what I felt before the pain was the scent of roses he was wearing.

Kate: "....William....?"

William: "Good morning, Kate."

He's here by my side.

It meant that there was a continuation to our relationship, in which we pushed each other to be selfish.

Kate: "Who killed the robin?' Wha...Why are you singing such a unlucky lullaby?"

I was being sarcastic, but my voice sounded too happy.

The red-eyed evil king laughed in amusement.

Teneramente: Lovingly - Normal story

#ikemen series #otome #cybird otome #cybird ikemen #ikemen villain #cybird #ikemen villains #ikemen mc #ikemen villains william

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talonabraxas · 5 months

Text

Thoth: The Atlantean Talon Abraxas

I, Thoth, the Atlantean,

give of my wisdom,

give of my knowledge,

give of my power.

Freely I give to the children of men.

Give that they, too, might have wisdom

to shine through the world from the veil of the night.

Wisdom is power and power is wisdom,

one with each other, perfecting the whole.

Be thou not proud, O man, in thy wisdom.

Discourse with the ignorant as well as the wise.

If one comes to thee full of knowledge,

listen and heed, for wisdom is all.

Keep thou not silent when evil is spoken for Truth

like the sunlight shines above all.

He who over-steppeth the Law shall be punished,

for only through Law comes the freedom of men.

Cause thou not fear for fear is a bondage,

a fetter that binds the darkness to men.

Follow thine heart during thy lifetime.

Do thou more than is commanded of thee.

When thou hast gained riches,

follow thou thine heart,

for all these are of no avail if

thine heart be weary.

Diminish thou not the time of

following thine heart.

It is abhorred of the soul.

They that are guided go not astray,

but they that are lost cannot find a straight path.

If thou go among men, make for thyself,

Love, the beginning and end of the heart.

If one cometh unto thee for council,

let him speak freely,

that the thing for which he hath

come to thee may be done.

If he hesitates to open his heart to thee,

it is because thou, the judge, doeth the wrong.

Repeat thou not extravagant speech,

neither listen thou to it,

for it is the utterance of one

not in equilibrium.

Speak thou not of it,

so that he before thee may know wisdom.

Silence is of great profit.

An abundance of speech profiteth nothing.

Exalt not thine heart above the children of men,

lest it be brought lower than the dust.

If thou be great among men,

be honoured for knowledge and gentleness.

If thou seeketh to know the nature of a friend,

ask not his companion,

but pass a time alone with him.

Debate with him,

testing his heart by his words and his bearing.

That which goeth into the store-house must come forth,

and the things that are thine must be shared with a friend.

Knowledge is regarded by the fool as ignorance,

and the things that are profitable are to him hurtful.

He liveth in death.

It is therefore his food.

The wise man lets his heart overflow

but keeps silent his mouth.

O man, list to the voice of wisdom;

list to the voice of light.

Mysteries there are in the Cosmos

that unveiled fill the world with their light.

Let he who would be free from the bonds of darkness

first divine the material from the immaterial,

the fire from the earth;

for know ye that as earth descends to earth,

so also fire ascends unto

fire and becomes one with fire.

He who knows the fire that is within

himself shall ascend unto the eternal fire

and dwell in it eternally.

Fire, the inner fire,

is the most potent of all force,

for it overcometh all things and

penetrates to all things of the Earth.

Man supports himself only on that which resists.

So Earth must resist man else he existeth not.

All eyes do not see with the same vision,

for to one an object appears of

one form and color

and to a different eye of another.

So also the infinite fire,

changing from color to color,

is never the same from day to day.

Thus, speak I, THOTH, of my wisdom,

for a man is a fire burning bright

through the night;

never is quenched in the veil of the darkness,

never is quenched by the veil of the night.

Into men's hearts, I looked by my wisdom,

found them not free from the bondage of strife.

Free from the toils, thy fire, O my brother,

lest it be buried in the shadow of night!

Hark ye, O man, and list to this wisdom:

where do name and form cease?

Only in consciousness, invisible,

an infinite force of radiance bright.

The forms that ye create by brightening

they vision are truly effects that follow thy cause.

Man is a star bound to a body,

until in the end,

he is freed through his strife.

Only by struggle and toiling thy

utmost shall the star within thee

bloom out in new life.

He who knows the commencement of all things,

free is his star from the realm of night.

Remember, O man, that all which exists

is only another form of that which exists not.

Everything that has being is passing into yet other

being and thou thyself are not an exception.

Consider the Law, for all is Law.

Seek not that which is not of the Law,

for such exists only in the illusions of the senses.

Wisdom cometh to all her children

even as they cometh unto wisdom.

All through the ages,

the light has been hidden.

Awake, O man, and be wise.

Deep in the mysteries of life have I traveled,

seeking and searching for that which is hidden.

List ye, O man, and be wise.

Far 'neath the earth crust,

in the Halls of Amenti,

mysteries I saw that are hidden from men.

Oft have I journeyed the deep hidden passage,

looked on the Light that is Life among men.

There 'neath the flowers of Life ever living,

searched I the hearts and the secrets of men.

Found I that man is but living in darkness,

light of the great fire is hidden within.

Before the Lords of hidden Amenti

learned I the wisdom I give unto men.

Masters are they of the great Secret Wisdom,

brought from the future of infinity's end.

Seven are they, the Lords of Amenti,

overlords they of the Children of Morning,

Suns of the Cycles, Masters of Wisdom.

Formed are not they as the children of men?

THREE, FOUR, FIVE AND SIX, SEVEN,

EIGHT, NINE are the titles of the Masters of men.

Far from the future, formless yet forming,

came they as teachers for the children of men.

Live they forever, yet not of the living,

bound not to life and yet free from death.

Rule they forever with infinite wisdom,

bound yet not bound to the dark Halls of Death.

Life they have in them, yet life that is not life,

free from all are the Lords of the ALL.

Forth from them came forth the Logos,

instruments they of the power o'er all.

Vast is their countenance,

yet hidden in smallness,

formed by a forming, known yet unknown.

THREE holds the key of all hidden magic,

creator he of the halls of the Dead;

sending forth power, shrouding with darkness,

binding the souls of the children of men;

sending the darkness, binding the soul force;

director of negative to the children of men.

FOUR is he who looses the power.

Lord, he, of Life to the children of men.

Light is his body, flame is his countenance;

freer of souls to the children of men.

FIVE is the master, the Lord of all magic -

Key to The Word that resounds among men.

SIX is the Lord of Light, the hidden pathway,

path of the souls of the children of men.

SEVEN is he who is Lord of the vastness,

master of Space and the key of the Times.

EIGHT is he who orders the progress;

weighs and balances the journey of men.

NINE is the father, vast he of countenance,

forming and changing from out of the formless.

Meditate on the symbols I give thee.

Keys are they, though hidden from men.

Reach ever upward, O Soul of the morning.

Turn thy thoughts upward to Light and to Life.

Find in the keys of the numbers I bring thee,

light on the pathway from life unto life.

Seek ye with wisdom.

Turn thy thoughts inward.

Close not thy mind to the flower of Light.

Place in thy body a thought-formed picture.

Think of the numbers that lead thee to Life.

Clear is the pathway to he who has wisdom.

Open the door to the Kingdom of Light.

Pour forth thy flame as a Sun of the morning.

Shut out the darkness and live in the day.

Take thee, O man! As part of thy being,

the Seven who are but are not as they seem.

Opened, O man! Have I my wisdom.

Follow the path in the way I have led.

Masters of Wisdom,

SUN of the MORNING LIGHT and LIFE

to the children of men.

--The Key of Wisdom

The Emerald Tablets of Thoth

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edenmemes · 1 year

Text

the northman (2022) starters

❝ your kingdom will not last. ❞ ❝ my fate did not ready me for finding you. ❞ ❝ your strength breaks men’s bones. i have the cunning to break their minds. ❞ ❝ i thought i must always shield my heart in stone. ❞ ❝ were you lost? ❞ ❝ in the end, you’re just like your father. ❞ ❝ even now, you believe the fairy tale i told you is true? ❞ ❝ you are still a beast cloaked in man-flesh. ❞ ❝ why would you come to such a hellish place? ❞ ❝ live always without fear, for your fate is set and you cannot escape it. ❞ ❝ should i fall by the enemy’s sword, you must avenge me. ❞ ❝ i must die for the sword. i will die in honor. ❞ ❝ this ground harbors evil. ❞ ❝ hate is all i have ever known. but i wish to be free of it. ❞ ❝ my hour of grief has passed. ❞ ❝ whatever you hear, you must stay hidden. ❞ ❝ my heart knows only revenge. ❞ ❝ i knew then you had a heart of cold iron. ❞ ❝ if you lose me, will you come and look for me? will you? ❞ ❝ never enter my chambers without invitation! ❞ ❝ i have never felt close to another person. not since i was a child. ❞ ❝ could it not be that fate has spun another thread for you to follow? ❞ ❝ wherever i go, i must take you with me. ❞ ❝ you came back for me. ❞ ❝ i cannot truly believe you have extinguished your fire for vengeance. ❞ ❝ your sheep’s clothing does not disguise you. ❞ ❝ this is the last tear you will shed in weakness. ❞ ❝ you sacrificed yourself so that i could flee. ❞ ❝ hide your cunning. show the shepherd you are a sheep. ❞ ❝ you must choose between kindness for your kin, and hatred for your enemies. ❞ ❝ you found me. ❞ ❝ i will tear out their eyes, and i will tear out their tongues. ❞ ❝ look me in the eye. ❞ ❝ i will become a hailstorm of iron and steel. ❞ ❝ you know why i have come. ❞ ❝ come morning, they will hunt for me. ❞ ❝ did you find it? what you lost. ❞ ❝ you best find yourself some sleep. ❞ ❝ if you’re as untrustworthy as a wolf, i swear i’ll put you down myself. ❞ ❝ like a battle-dog returning to its master, i’ve come to be fettered by your fair locks. ❞ ❝ ever are we bound. ❞ ❝ i will have my vengeance. and more. ❞ ❝ your mind reeks of your father. ❞ ❝ your words are poison. ❞ ❝ do as you’re told. go. ❞ ❝ please, it’s but a jest. a jest. ❞ ❝ you keep a foul tongue, yet i keep you as a deep-sworn friend. ❞ ❝ i refuse to die in sickness nor live the long life of a shameful graybeard. ❞ ❝ be not afraid. do as i do. ❞ ❝ together we will rage in the battlefield of corpses. ❞ ❝ my fate has brought me here. ❞ ❝ for now, i will haunt this place like a hungry corpse returned from the grave. ❞ ❝ can you fight? ❞ ❝ whatever happens tomorrow, be ready to run. ❞ ❝ this is not the work of my god. ❞ ❝ i should kill you and all that is dear to you. ❞

#rp meme #rp starters #roleplay meme #roleplay starters

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fiddleabout · 1 year

Text

(picks up immediately after this)

(go go grisha lesbians etc etc)

Ava doesn’t see it happen. The light bursts out of her, hard enough that it feels like her ribcage will collapse with the impact, and she collapses over Beatrice’s stilled chest, a hand still on the dagger hilted into her heart, and nearly loses consciousness with how quickly her body goes from an uncontrollable well of grisha power to empty, a gaping ache in her bones that vies for attention with the hollow emptiness in her chest since Beatrice collapsed in her arms.

The world goes quiet, and Ava slumps over Beatrice’s body, a sob bursting out of her and sudden exhaustion weighting her bones as she buries her face in the still-warm hollow of Beatrice’s throat. A hand yanks at her shoulder, pulling her away from Beatrice, and she snarls and turns and throws light out of her hands at whoever’s grabbing for her, enough to fling anyone fool enough to try and take her away from Beatrice across the desert floor that’s bathed in sunlight for the first time in centuries.

Or: she tries. It’s barely a flicker, the burning sun that had exploded in her chest waning to even less than she’d had the first time she tried to summon her powers on her own. Her body sags with fatigue, and it’s only when she looks up that she realizes it’s Lilith pulling her away from Beatrice and Camila shoving past them both, heartrender red filthy and bloodstained as she pushes her hands over Beatrice’s chest.

Ava fights against Lilith’s hold, desperately trying to call the light to burn her way out of the unwavering grip Lilith has around her so she can get back to Beatrice, but it barely flickers in her hands, a dying spark where there had been a bonfire just seconds earlier. Scattered on the ground around Beatrice are the pieces of the fetter, of the collar, the last remnants of the stag and the sea whip, the amplifiers that had gotten her this far just so she could murder the woman she loved for the sake of the world.

Around them, Soldat Sol are stumbling, dropping to their knees, staring in wonder at the way the light is pouring out of their own hands, visible even in the bright sunlight that’s washed over the remnants of the fold. Yasmine, gentle kind Yasmine who’d dug through the research and the histories that even Beatrice could never match, who had put her unwavering faith in Ava even when the darkling had every possible advantage, is gaping at the streams of light weaving around her from her fingertips.

“The third amplifier,” Lilith says, hoarse and tired, even as her arms stay tight around Ava, holding her back from where she’s trying and failing still to fight back to Beatrice’s side. “The firebird, it-- she didn’t increase your power, she replicated it. In all of them. They brought the fold down.”

“I don’t care,” Ava says with a growl. “I don’t care, Lilith, let me go-- let me--”

“You’d only be in the way,” Lilith says harshly. “Let her work.”

“I need her back.” Ava slumps into Lilith’s hold, her knees giving out. Lilith drops down with her, keeps a hold around her abdomen when Ava nearly collapses forward with a sob. “I can’t-- I need--please--”

Her hands are bloody. The dry dirt of the fold, heating under the scorching summer sun and the light pouring out of the new sun summoners, sticks in Beatrice’s blood when Ava falls forward and barely catches herself on her hands. Camila is working frantically, hands moving sharply with intent over Beatrice’s body, and a low keening noise escapes from Ava when Camila yanks the dagger out of Beatrice’s chest.

“Ava,” Lilith says sharply, suddenly tense. Ava can’t bring herself to care, gasping for breath and ripping herself free until she can stumble back over towards Beatrice and Camila.

“What’s this?” The darkling’s voice sounds, but Ava nearly misses it, on her knees by Beatrice’s body as Camila ignores everything to keep working. Ava reaches with unsteady hands, bloody and filthy, and presses her palms to Beatrice’s cheeks, drags a thumb over the freckles along her cheekbone and ignores the danger that is the darkling looming over them.

“Bring her back,” Ava says, half a whisper and half a sob, unable to look away from the blood on Beatrice’s lips. “Please bring her back to me.”

“The druskelle,” the darkling says, bemused, wondering. “The druskelle was the firebird all along.”

“Beatrice,” Ava grinds out. “Her name is Beatrice, and she stopped you.”

She sits back on her heels, glares up at the darkling. He’s never looked worse, his nichevo’ya almost completely gone, his oprichniki scattered, the Soldat Sol all around them with sunlight burning in their hands and the fold ripped away around him.

“I am eternal,” the darkling says with a sneer. “And you-- you failed, little Ava. You killed your druskelle, and it left you with nothing. There’s not a spark of power left in you.”

Ava looks back down to Beatrice, to the way Camila’s work has slowed the bleeding. It could be the new sunlight in the fold, could be a wish Ava can’t put words to, could be her mind fracturing under the grief, but Beatrice’s cheeks look less pallid than they had a moment ago.

“You’re nothing now,” the darkling says, incredulous and disappointed. “You were supposed to be the most powerful thing on the planet, and now you’re nothing.”

Ava’s chest clenches, her fists following suit. Beatrice’s blood is tacky and warm on her hands. The sun is hot on her back, the heat ricocheting off the sand drying the tear tracks on her face as she sets her jaw and pushes up to her feet. The darkling towers over her, disappointment and disdain written plain across his tense jaw.

“I don’t need to be grisha to be something,” she says, her voice gravelly but steady, and the darkling sneers down at her like he so often had, unconcerned and unafraid as she takes a step closer and then another. “Neither did she.”

Ava flips the blade from where she’d held it pressed flat along her forearm, just like Beatrice had taught her on long quiet nights in the cold searching for the stag and shorter more desperate ones on the run from Novye Zem to Os Alta to the Spinning Wheel, and shoves it between his ribs. It slides in easier than it did the first time, maybe because Ava’s body doesn’t feel like her own anymore, maybe because it’s the darkling and not Beatrice, but Ava leans into it anyways and shoves it harder.

“Otkazat’sya,” Ava says, clear and loud, pushing Beatrice’s dagger one more time until it’s as far in as it can go. Behind him, the last of the nichevo’ya scream. “Me, and her. We killed you, not grisha.”

The darkling stares, bewildered, down at the knife. Blood bubbles out of his mouth, and she wrenches the blade out of him and watches as it darkens his already-dark clothes, watches as he falls, watches as he lets out one final undignified gurgle and dies. The nichevo’ya dissolve, disappearing into the bright sunlight.

The blade slips out of numb fingers, Beatrice’s blood tainted now by the darkling’s, and Ava watches disinterestedly as it falls to the ground. Her hands are bloody. Her entire body feels brittle and hollow, the barest echo of grisha light left in her chest.

A thready, weak noise sounds behind Ava, followed by a sigh, and Ava turns so fast she nearly trips over her own feet, over Beatrice’s dagger. Camila is slumping back away from Beatrice’s body, exhaustion bowing her shoulders but a glow lighting on her cheeks from digging so far into her power. Behind her, Lilith’s gaze ricochets from Camila to Ava to the darkling, over and over.

Ava’s breath catches in her throat, her knees giving out once more as she drops down onto the freshly sun-baked ground at Beatrice’s side. Her hands shake, bloody and unsteady, hovering over Beatrice’s broken body, the blood that’s soaked her shirt, unable to make herself reach out.

A weak shaking breath whistles out past Beatrice’s lips, followed by a quiet groan. It shatters in the sunlit air, the most exquisite sound Ava’s ever heard, and she dives forward. There’s a grunt and a groan and an exhale from the impact, Camila’s work only going so far at knitting Beatrice’s body back together, but Ava drowns in each sound with a laugh that’s halfway to a sob, because the darkling is dead and the fold is gone and none if matters because Beatrice is alive.

“Bea,” she says into Beatrice’s neck, cracking and creaking and wavering.

A hand lands gentle over her back, the weight of it familiar-- Beatrice has touched her so many times in recent months, in a frozen ocean and in barely-heated whaling shelters and in the barely-manageable dark lit by careful offers of Ava’s power while the tracked a myth and a fairytale through the tundra, on her back and on her face and over her heart, warm and steady and enough to make Ava collapse because she spent a lifetime with no one but Diego to love but then found Beatrice and her strong hands and kind eyes and soft smiles that she only ever offered to Ava-- and the weak flex of Beatrice’s fingers as they settle between the notches in Ava’s spine anchors her to the realization that Beatrice is alive.

“I’m so mad at you,” she says, burying her face and the tears stinging in her eyes into Beatrice’s shoulder. “I’m so mad at you.”

“Ow,” Beatrice wheezes out. Her hand flexes at Ava’s back, still weak but alive, and Ava knows that she’s putting too much weight on Beatrice’s torso and the damage Camila only barely managed to stitch back together but she can’t pull back, can’t stop the way she’s pushing herself against Beatrice’s chest and wrapping her arms around Beatrice and holding her tight because Beatrice gave herself over, Beatrice drove a knife into her own heart to save them all, Beatrice was nearly gone forever when Ava had only just found her.

“The amplifier--” Beatrice’s words brush over Ava’s hair. A hand presses soft at the back of her head, familiar and gentle and the only thing in the world that Ava can bring herself to care about.

“It worked.” It’s Lilith who answers, her sharp edges rounded and tired; there’s a hum of agreement from Camila behind them, a tired whump as she flops back to sprawl on the ground in exhaustion. “The fold is gone. The darkling is dead.”

“Good,” Beatrice says, soft enough that even Ava can barely hear her. She holds tighter around Beatrice, pulls her into her chest and holds the earth-shattering sobs that want to break out of her chest in place. The fold is gone. The darkling is dead. Beatrice is alive. “Ava?”

“I’m so mad at you.” It’s all Ava can figure out how to say, useless grandstanding because she isn’t mad, she isn’t angry, she isn’t anything but exhausted and relieved and so in love with Beatrice that the emptiness where her power had lived is barely noticeable compared to the way her chest is surely about to burst because Beatrice is alive and the world is safe and the impossible future she’d daydreamed of can become a reality now.

“I can live with that,” Beatrice says. Her hand curls more solidly around the back of Ava’s head, pressing her harder into her neck.

Ava snorts tiredly, slaps at Beatrice’s hip, weak and ineffectual and carefully south of the barely-healed stab wound in her chest . “You’d better,” she grumbles.

“Whatever you want.” It’s a murmur into the side of Ava’s head, lips brushing over her hair, Beatrice’s soft rounded accent warming in Ava’s chest. Her arms hold tighter around Ava, familiar strength undercut by the way her whole body trembles with the effort. “Anything you want.”

“She still needs a proper healer,” Camila says softly from behind them. “I could only do so much.”

Ava should say something, should acknowledge Camila, find a healer, speak to the Soldat Sol and the way they’re audibly confused in the sunlight behind them, should should should but instead she just sits back on her heels and gathers Beatrice up more firmly into her arms, buries her face in the roughspun covering her shoulder. She breathes in the smell of blood and sweat, tunes out everything but the sound of Beatrice breathing, the uncharacteristically weak grip of Beatrice’s arms around her, the pulse she can feel under her lips when she pushes her face into Beatrice’s neck and swallows the scream that still wants to fight its way out of her.

“Ava,” Beatrice says, quiet enough that Ava might have missed it if she hadn’t felt the soft rumble of her words against her own chest. “We should--”

“Not yet,” Ava says, pushing further into Beatrice’s neck, gripping tighter to her shirt. “I just-- not yet.”

“Okay,” Beatrice says softly. She moves with a groan, shifting until she’s sitting up properly and Ava is wrapped around her, breathing in the smell of salt and copper clinging to her skin, pressing her lips harder against the pulse in Beatrice’s throat. “Enel mörd je nej afva trohem verret.”

The second half of the druskelle oath settles heavy in Ava’s throat. Only in death will I be kept from this oath. It drives her to sit up properly, the way nothing else -- Beatrice’s weak grip, the sound of the Soldat Sol celebrating, the impatient irritation from Lilith-- has managed to.

“No,” she says, sharp, cracking, exhausted. Her hands press to Beatrice’s cheeks, harder than she thought she had the strength to; apparently all her body needs to straighten up is Beatrice promising to throw herself between Ava and danger until it kills her again. “Not that. Not anymore. You have to promise me--”

“Ava,” Beatrice says, her hands curling around Ava’s wrists, an aching mirror to just minutes ago when Ava had done the same and tried to talk her out of sacrificing herself. There’s still blood in her teeth, on her lips; the pallid tint to her skin hasn’t faded yet despite Camila’s work, and her freckles are starker than ever. “I--

“No,” Ava says over her. “You don’t get to do that to me again. Ever. You’re not my protector, you’re my-- I need you with me, Bea. I can’t do it without you.”

“There’s nothing left for you to do.” Beatrice’s thumb strokes over the sensitive skin on the inside of Ava’s wrist, one side of her bloodied mouth tilting up into that maddening small smile that Ava fell in love with somewhere between a whaler’s hut and finding Morozova’s stag. “You’re done. You don’t have to do anything else--”

“I want to run Keramzin,” Ava blurts out, putting words to the distant daydreams she’d held onto for months, the impossible dream of returning to Keramzin and caring for the war orphans the way she was cared for, a quiet life with Beatrice at her side. “I want to take all the crown’s money that Michael keeps offering me and fix it up and take care of all of those kids until they can go out and have a life without having to join the military.”

“Ava,” Beatrice says again, thumb stroking over her pulse, mouth soft and eyes warm. “Of course you--”

“With you,” Ava hurries out. “I want to do it with you. So you can’t go around throwing yourself into danger for me anymore, okay? I don’t need a druskelle or a firebird or a soldier, I just need you.”

Uncertainty flickers across Beatrice’s face, shadowed and wavering, and Ava presses her hands harder against her cheeks and thinks back to quiet conversations in empty forests and cold huts and hidden caverns, of use and capability and necessity, what it is to be meaningful, to be valued, to be wanted.

“Just you,” Ava says again, her voice aching in her throat because she’d had to feel the moment Beatrice died and had to face down an entire future without her. “You’re enough, Bea. More than. You’re the only thing that matters. You and me together.”

“If you’re quite done,” Lilith’s voice slices through the moment, cutting Beatrice off from where she’d opened her mouth, and Ava groans and drops her forehead against Beatrice’s.

“Lilith, I swear I’m going to--”

“Going to what? You couldn’t even light a candle now,” Lilith says. There’s a whump that is unmistakably Camila punching her in the arm, followed by scoff, and Ava laughs without meaning to, hands still pressed to Beatrice’s cheeks. Beatrice, alive; the fold, gone; the darkling, gone; her power, gifted to the people who’d followed her when she was sure she had nothing to offer. No one needs anything from them anymore.

Beatrice turns into her hold, brushes a kiss over her palm, presses herself into Ava’s hold more fully. Another laugh bubbles in her chest as Beatrice tucks her smile into Ava’s hand.

She pulls Beatrice around until she can kiss her, barely remembering at the last second to be gentle, that Beatrice is barely back from the dead and still in need of a healer. The blood on Beatrice’s mouth is sharp and coppery and Ava can’t bring herself to care, kissing her again and again and once more, sinking into the way Beatrice kisses her like it’s the only thing the world that matters, until she’s sure Beatrice isn’t going to disappear the minute she pulls away.

Beatrice’s cheeks are flushed, a glorious wash of color as the pallor continues to fade; her eyes are bright, her mouth tilting up into a small smile when Ava pulls back. She tilts her chin up in Ava’s hold and brushes a kiss over her forehead, murmurs together against her skin, and there’s the sound of Camila punching Lilith on the heels of an overwrought noise of disgust that can’t disguise the fondness for them both that Lilith carries, and Ava laughs and smiles and kisses Beatrice again.

No one needs anything from them anymore. There’s nothing left for her to do except to stand up and move forward, to fill out the hazy architecture she’d dreamed up of a life with Beatrice, to build a home and a life and to live it together.

#writing tag #grishava #warrior nun #ava silva #sister beatrice

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foodsies4me · 26 days

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March Malec fic rec!

A very big thank you to @just-add-butter for this month's suggestion: Animal transformations! As usual, I'm keeping it to one fic per author, bust several of these authors have multiple fics that apply and even more fics that are wonderful. And, if you want to add you own recs in the replies, tags or reblogs please feel free to do so! (Also if someone has a theme for April please tell me so I can get that list out a bit sooner than at the very end of the month, lol)

I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know, but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me so! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

Hop into my arms by @malecfan09: Magnus gets turned into a bunny and it's adorable, what more do you want me to say? This is just fluff, fluff and more fluff.

Summary

Magnus has been magically turned into a bunny by a rogue warlock and Alec looks after him until the spell wears off. *** Flufftober 2023: Day 18 - protecting and Day 20- reading together

Shake Your Fetters Loose by Dreadwyrms: Alec gets turned into a dog and Magnus is NOT a dog person. Post canon with married Malec and again lots of fluff.

Summary:

An investigation into a rogue warlock goes very, very wrong, and Magnus learns he’ll never ever really be a dog person. AKA the one in which Alec accidentally gets turned into a dog.

Everybody (does not) want to be a cat by Falazure: One of the many, many Magnus or Alec get turned into a cat fics on this list.

Summary:

Magnus has suffered worse things in his long life, but being turned into a cat was still up-there on the list of rather annoying inconveniences.

Deepest desires (give in) by @myulalie: Another kitty Magnus fic based on a drawing by @misawkward.

Summary:

Were-cats are good luck by shadowhunters' standards, so when a black, jewelry covered cat appears at the Institute, Alec pays him his respects. He needs it, considering the messes Clary and Jace keep dragging him in. Alec certainly doesn't expect the were-cat to take a liking to him, and even less to start flirting with him...

the catastrophe of success by @alexanderlightweight: A personal favourite Magnus cat fic of mine!

Summary:

Magnus Bane was the most eligible bachelor in the Downworld, sought after by everyone from mundanes to Seelie Princes but a man tired after centuries of heartbreak. In an attempt to gain a respite from his admirers, Magnus proposed a deal. A key to his loft and a path through his wards guarded by his cat, if anyone managed to take the key, Magnus would grant them a date.

Multi-chapter fics or series:

The dragon!Alec series by @to-the-stars-writing, who is perhaps the queen of the dragon Alec fics. I have read and reread every single one of them.

Summary of Building a Clan (aka part one in this series)

Keeping secrets was never easy. Alec should know – he was keeping quite a few. Sometimes it was hard to remember who knew what secrets. The chance of slipping up, the damage that could cause, was unthinkable. There were too many things about himself that he couldn’t let just anyone know. Too many things that marked him as wrong or different, even if he didn’t understand why sometimes. His family were the only ones to know his biggest secret, one that could get him killed if he wasn’t careful. Bad enough that his parents had once been a part of the Circle and extremely close to Valentine himself. If any Shadowhunters – or, Angel forbid, the Clave – ever found out that Maryse had allowed Valentine to inject her with something, mixing what she’d been told was more Angel blood with her unborn child, the ramifications could be catastrophic for their family. More so if they ever found out it wasn’t Angel blood that he’d injected the fetus with. It was dragon blood.

The Warlock's Cat by @dreaming-marchling, which I already put on my end-of-the-year rec list, but it deserves to be here again because So Good. Kitty Alec fic!

Summary

Pain raced up his arm. It was a sharp throb that radiated out. More than a broken bone. When Alec went to flex his hand to see how bad it was he couldn’t. His eyes snapped to his own hand and there was no hand. There was no him. By the Angel… Alec scrambled up on uncoordinated legs – too many legs! – that trembled underneath him. He panted and looked down at himself as best he could. Dark fur. Two paws, one still scorching with pain. The ground not even a foot below him even though he was standing as tall as he could. Reality was screaming at him and Alec couldn’t accept it. His brain couldn’t wrap itself around what was in front of him. That bastard had turned him into a cat.

Shoelaces and Precious Metals by @violet-renegade: Another dragon!Alec fic that is angsty and sweet and just a very nice read.

Summary

Magnus loves Alexander, his proud dragon Shadowhunter, and he knows that Shadowhunters don't display their relationships with collars the way Downworlders do. Magnus always thought he understood what that meant for him and Alec. As it turns out, Magnus didn't understand at all In the early months of their relationship, Alec had let himself wonder about what kind of collar Magnus might offer him. Sometimes, he'd even indulge in the thought that Magnus would coordinate Alec’s collars with his own outfit, marking it clear who Alec belonged to every time they went out. And then Magnus doesn't ask. And doesn't ask. And doesn't ask.

Hearth and Home by @molly_jae: And another Dragon!Alec fic. Yes there are a lot of dragon fics!

Summary of Ichor and Cuddles which is the first part in this two-part series:

“Alexander, I love you,” Magnus sighs, throwing his head back with a thud against the hardwood floor. “But unlike your lovely scales, ichor does not just slide off my limited edition Marc Jacobs jacket, or these pants you love to see my ass in.”

The Warlock's Familiar by @harkasun: Another cat!Alec fic!

Summary:

For over five years, Alec Lightwood has been denied his birth right: that of a familiar to be claimed by a warlock. When he finally finds that warlock, having talked him down from the ledge of Brooklyn Bridge, he despairs to find that the man wants nothing to do with him. With rising pressures from his family, and his warlock’s steadfast determination to shut him out, Alec must talk his way into Magnus’s home and heart. The only question is: how far will he go to claim his fate?

#Fic rec #Malec fic rec #Spent the past few days rereading some of these #and I now want to write a dragon!Aec fic #and a Cat!Magnus fic #help #too manny plotbunnies

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