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#there will be a lot a spelling mistakes probably

ar0ace-m3ss · 2 days

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Because I'm trans and gay, I have this weird thing where I don't know if I'm attracted to someone or want to be them. I had this a lot when I was younger , as what I thought were crushes are actually gender envy.

I remember being obsessed with male fictional characters, and I wanted to dress and be like them. So I made a venn diagram... these are ppl of the top of my head and probably not all.

(Probably spelling mistakes I made this in about a minute)

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fitzs-space · 2 years

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For this shape shifting Hermits, what all can they shift into? Does it end as just people? Can they do animals? Can they do mobs? CAN THEY DO BLOCKS? The last two would be amazing for pranks, imagine going to work on your build and some of the blocks start moving.

now a thing to consider is how each of them shapeshift, cause they all do it in their own ways. So get ready cause you've unlocked a headcanon rant

Cause I've got a lot of shapeshifter ideas when it comes to the hermits and I haven't had a chance to talk about them all over here. So pspspsp Im talkin about Etho, Mumbo, Gem, Ren, Grian, Jevin and Xisuma

Cause Etho? they rely on more illusion based shenanigans. Are they still able to physically shapeshift? of course, they have to look like a mandred (human/elf/fae/ anything mostly around that vibe) somehow as a kitsune. illusions just are easier. so would Etho turn into an animal to fuck with people? most definitely. They just like to stick to whay they are used to most times thogh, so sometimes a player would see just a random white fox wandering around Ethos base and brush it off like its just some pet, and they'll let people believe that, it's easier then explaining it all to players, and it lets them fuck with everyone more if they don't know that fox is Etho. The main victim is Bdubs, who is always ranting about this huge fox that's just always around his base that messes with him all the time, and all the other hermits think he's just slowly going insane because surely its just a normal fox what do you mean.

Grian most definitely shifts into animals to mess with people, why would he not? can he shift into blocks? no not really, but that does not stop them from not so subtly making blocks float like its moon big part two? the guy takes full advantage to fuck with players as much as he possibly can. Grian's just able to shapeshift cause they are able to alter reality, and have mainly chooses to use those ability's to mess with people. she also just likes to make subtle changes to his appearance just for fun, and helps him just look mostly normal by player standards. Its that whole "Grians a watcher" thing, He mainly just shifted to hide the affects being a watcher caused on their body, and nothing else, but as she leaned to be more comfortable with himself again he just started having fun with it. And so we het to have a parrot Grian one season then they will have a day where he's got Dragon wings instead just for the fun of it.

Mumbo frankly can't do anything other then just "Mumbo but in a different font". cant blame the guy, he's still fairly new to this all shapeshifting thing. He always keeps the mustache though, mainly cause its funny. Would he shift into animals? yea but its either a mumbo shaped pig walking around again, or you'll see a disgruntled cow walking around with a suit and a mustache. Can he become a block? yes, but he is not allowed to anymore, no one wants a repeat of Mumblock Jumbo. Scar is still traumatized about it, Scared for life if you will- Generally no one really wants to see the process of Mumbo shapeshifting because its just, a lot,,, the whole "You'll see the bones under his skin move" and "what in the great voids name is that". Mumbos fine with it all happening, no one else if fine after seeing it is all /hj

Ren and Gem are fairly similar in how they shapeshift, seeing as its just Mandred to moblin (sentient mobs more or less). Can they shift into an animal? yes, but only one basically. Both of them do prefer to stay in a more middle of the rode state with their forms though. Gem will tend to shift to a more elven appearance while on empires to help her look more like a different character, and sometimes with Mcc she'll choose to appear more elven when she doesn't want to deal with doing athletics with big horns in the way. She does enjoy being more deer like while on hermitcraft due to the amount of other hybrids on the server though, nothing to due to how she accidently traumatized Joe that one time cause good void if Gem doesn't look like human Cleo when her hair is down, nothing like that Ren's taken a bit to get comfortable with being a wolf hybrid, he's gotten there in the end though. The guy didn't even let himself show off his wolf ears willingly in public until the end of season 7 really. Ren does differ from Gem in how he is more a werewolf, so he's forced into a full transformation every month, and that's partly fed into him not being comfortable as a technical hybrid. He doesn't really enjoy that whole "not having full control of self" thing that happens, and it can bleed into him being worried about hurting other players even when he isn't in full transformations. Luckily for Ren, hermitcraft has plugins to help with that! so If he accidently bites someone they wont gain the same curse! can't say the same for last/3rd/double life though,,,

Xisuma can technically become any from he really want to, but that's the key word here in that they just don't really want to, you know. It takes time and effort to create a new form for ones self and they are frankly pretty attached to the one he already has. Can the guy shift to an animal form or even a block? not at all, and wouldn't want to if they could. Instead he's just got two states he'll stick with, that being what is probably best described as a nimbus cloud of sentient void, and the pathetic soggy wet cat of a man everyone has come to love. EvilX cant shapeshift, it's not really something that bothers them, it does feed into that "Hes just a failed clone in the end" redirect, now That's what bothers him.

And then Jevin, and the guy just doesn't really have a solid shape to begin with really. Sometimes he'll wake up with a good shape day, sometimes he sleeps weird and ends up in a Long Jevin kinda day. And yea he can really become any shape or form he wants, its just all blue slime though, just get a weird blue slime shaped sheep walking around sometimes, kinda like those bubble people form that one SpongeBob episode. And Jevin is one of the few shifters who can become a block and get away with it! and he chooses to mess with the redstones the most, but most times it backfires when he just sits as a block for long enough and ends up afk//asleep only to wake up in the latest redstone contraption of one sleep deprived Mumbo who couldn't notice a neon sign infront of his eyes, much less being able to realize a slimeblock is not blue. Or in some game breaking machine of one Docm77 who, though he wont fully admit to it, is a little bit colourblind and it is not his fault that the tone of slimeblocks is near exact to Jevin.

I just went off the rails a lil here, but I hope you enjoy the chaos thats stuck in my mind

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cherry-blossom-qf · 6 days

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I have redesigned Promised Magolor and Oakley (slightly), just cuz they deserve it!

I'm kinda proud of myself for doing this, so I hope y'all like it as much as I do.

And just so I can link this post to future Promised Prince Magolor AU posts, I'm gonna share an updated lore dump about this AU under the cut

↓↓ Long Lore Dump ↓↓

In this AU, Magolor lost the fight to Mistilteinn by taking too many hits and nearly bleeding to death when he failed to cut the tree down. As Magolor pleaded for his life before fainting, Mistilteinn decided to spare him and take care of his wounds.

You see, the poor crown, filled with dark matter due to their previous kings' selfish desires, was tired of all the negativity that his power brings. He wanted something new, something different, something positive for once. And since Magolor is the only "king" that survived his corruption, he decided to take the chance and become his partner in life (think Meta and Galaxia but it gets weirdly romantic)

The crown tree, using the Gem Apple Seed as his host for his new body, proposes an offer to Magolor. A proposal that the crown will exchange his loyal onto Magolor if Magolor does the same for him. Which.... is basically a marriage proposal.

Magolor, fearing for his life at the time, took his offer. At first it was terrifying, having to be partnered up with something that nearly killed him. But the more they spend time together, the more they fell for each other (mostly like the plot of Beauty and the Beast).

When they officially tied the knot (crown boi wanted to wait until Magolor and him were seen as equals before they did the wedding), Magolor was crowned "The Promised Prince of The Void" and now raines over the dimension that once claimed him has a prisoner. And once Magolor's injuries were fully healed, he was able to the stuff he did canonically in the games (Kirby Clash stuff, Star Allies stuff, you get the idea). Tho Magolor has to keep his relationship a secret for a while, cuz if anyone like Meta Knight or Susie knows about this out of context, it's definitely gonna turn out bad.

As for the crown, he now goes by the name "Oakley", a name given to him by Magolor that he now wears proudly as king. Despite his background, he's actually a really big sweetheart and an old soul. He devoted himself to never bring his prince to harm in any circumstances. (in my words: he is a golden retriever with gentlemen vibes)

Idk how to finish this lore dump, so gonna try to sum it up to this: Theses two of are the biggest (and surprisingly healthiest) power couple in the Kirby galaxy, and rule over their little kingdom with an iron fist.

So yeah, that it! Thanks for reading all this! Get yourself a cookie! You deserve it!

#my art #magolor the promised prince au #kirby au #kirby return to dreamland #sorry for the lore dump being so long. there's probably a lot of spelling mistakes due to my dyslexic brain.#kirby return to dreamland deluxe #kirby mistilteinn #kirby magolor #magolor #mistilteinn

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piinfeathers · 4 months

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the scars we bare

it's a mid-january miracle, i actually wrote something. after threatening to finally start writing captain swan fics, i actually did it. thank you to all my beautiful friends on discord who encouraged me and to @dykelilypage i'm so glad you liked your gift <333 this is chapter 1 of 2, second one should be up tomorrow probably maybe who knows? :)))

summary: emma swan came to the underworld with one purpose; to rescue the man she loved from hades' grip. and she would do anything, sacrifice everything in order to that happen. when hades offers her a deal, a test of their true love, she takes it. in the end though, the bargain might just take more for them than they have to give. S5B canon divergence

tw: minor moments of gore and torture, also pregnancy and child birth

✨ ao3 link ✨

***

Emma had made plenty of bad decisions in her life. Big, catastrophic decisions, she could admit that. If she were to rank them though, willingly letting herself fall under a sleeping curse to rescue the man she loved from hell, probably would have ended up pretty high on the list.

She stared at him, across the wide airy field of middlemist flowers that wasn’t actually there, but felt nearly as real as she remembered, and wondered if he would feel the same.

“Swan.” Her name sounded like a prayer, rasped from his too-dry throat.

She was running then, or maybe she had started running before, she wasn’t sure. Her arms circled him when they met, his own grip nearly crushing as he lifted her off her feet. Frantic kisses and searching hands probed each other as incomplete pleas stuttered out of each of them.

“You alright?”

“-m fine. You can’t be here-”

“-made a deal. Hades, he had a deal.”

“-have to go back. Please, you have to go back.”

“I can’t.”

The last two words dropped like a stone between them and Killian jerked back. His face was the same as it had been when she’d last seen him alive. It was no longer the swollen mess of throbbing bruises Hades had left it in, when he’d shown Emma her lover’s broken body that was being torn and burnt and flayed apart until she had screamed to make it stop. Killian’s hand, the fingers still intact and no longer snapped and broken, cupped her face. He was trembling. Or maybe that was her. It was hard to tell at this point.

“Emma,” her name came out as a whisper. “Emma, where are we?”

She smiled as something huge and terrifying in her chest threatened to burst open.

“Somewhere... Somewhere in my mind. I think? Maybe,” she glanced around again, trying to focus. “A memory. He kept saying something about memories. Our memories.”

“Love, you aren’t making any sense.”

She laughed and it sounded like a watery hiccup. “Hades. Hades and I made a deal.”

The hand on her face tensed as she watched his expression grow brittle. “Emma-” his throat bobbed. “Emma. What kind of deal? What did you promise him?”

She held up her right hand, her index finger raised. A small droplet of blood welled up in the sensitive pad of flesh at the tip where she had pricked it only moments earlier.

“Sleeping curse,” she tried to keep her voice calm as she risked another glance at him. His face was ghost white, completely drained of colour. “I think he thought he was being funny. Something about “the old Charming family tradition.””

Killian’s head was shaking, his eyes darting away from her as he scanned the edges of the tree line behind them, looking for a way out. “We have to wake you up. Emma you don’t understand, Hades he-”

She watched his gaze go unfocused, the nerve in his jaw popping.

“Hey,” she said quickly, her hand curling around his neck, pulling him back to her. “He can’t get you, not here. Not unless he feels like breaking our deal.”

His eyes were still nervy, and she could feel his pulse jumping beneath her palm, but he focused on her again. God she had missed him. Missed the way he smelled, the way his scruffed jaw felt when she held it. It suddenly seemed so hysterically unfair that they’d only had a few months together. They deserved a lifetime.

“This deal,” he rasped after a moment. “Tell me exactly what he asked of you.”

“He wanted…” she trailed off, trying to remember what he had said. “He said he wanted to test us. To see if what we shared was true love or not. That we needed to really see every part of each other before we made our decision.”

Killian was holding very, very still, his expression unreadable. “And for us to do this test, you needed to be cursed, is that right? Am I cursed as well? Is that how I’m standing here with you?” His voice sounded calm, almost reasonable, as if they were discussing the rules to a complicated board game. But Emma could still feel his panic, could see it starting to edge into the corners of his eyes, turning them glassy. Another one of her huge, catastrophically bad decisions alright.

“No. No you aren’t under a sleeping curse,” she tried to make her voice comforting, but doubted it had much effect. “He said that souls without a living body don’t need curses to be moved to the dream realm, as long as they’re tethered to someone alive they just sort of- “hitch a ride,” or something.”

A smile started to spread across his face, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “So I’m tethered to you then?”

“Seems that way,” she said, her heart feeling like a dead weight in her chest. “I’m not exactly sure about the next parts, he was talking about memory magic, about old wounds needing to be opened up. He said the dream realm made the magic more…” she waved her hand. “Potent or something. Made it easier to find old memories.”

Killian’s hand dropped to her shoulder, his hook resting against her hip. “Why does he want us to explore old memories? Which memories? What does he gain from that?”

“I have no idea, I’m pretty sure he was just talking to hear himself speak at some point.”

“I don’t like this. Hades wouldn’t make a deal unless it was to punish or to trap you here. Emma, please,” his tone was growing frantic and it was making her own nerves start to fray. “Try and remember exactly what he said. Every word. If he’s trapped you here-”

“I don’t remember all the specifics! I was a little distracted watching you get tortured. Hades didn’t exactly have my undivided attention.”

Killian’s eyes shuttered and Emma could feel the slight tremor in his hand as it fell from her shoulder. She wished she hadn’t mentioned the torture. The second she had, she’d seen his face go blank. When this was over, she would kill Hades. She wasn’t sure how exactly, but she would get creative. Somehow she would figure out a way to make the god of death hurt in the same way he had made Killian hurt.

“Look,” she said, her voice thick. “All you need to know is that he can’t hurt us. I made him swear it. He can’t touch you here, and he can’t kill me. Everything that happens now is up to us.”

He looked up, staring at something far away from them, like he was remembering something he’d rather forget. “And if we fail? What then? Does he get both of us to torture for eternity?”

“We won’t fail,” she told him. They wouldn’t. She couldn’t let that happen. Even if it killed her, she would never let Hades touch Killian Jones again. “I got down here didn’t I? And I found you. The hard part’s already done.”

He huffed out a laugh that sounded wrong to her ears. “Your confidence is admirable, Swan. But you don’t know what Hades is capable of. What he does to you once he has you.”

She could feel him slipping from her, could feel the despair coming off him in waves, and it killed her. “There’s a fail safe,” she told him quickly. “I can call off the deal at any time.”

He jerked his attention back to her, suddenly alert.

“But Killian, if I call it off, if I choose to end this, you go right back where I found you. Back to Hades,” she said, a world of meaning in her words.

“But you’ll be safe?”

She looked at him. She should tell him. Tell him the entire truth. Tell him exactly what she had promised to keep him safe, to bring him back home. What she had signed away. But if she told him, if he knew everything, he would never agree to it. He would refuse and send her back and all this would be for nothing. He would go back to the endless, screaming pain that Hades had cleaved into him until there was nothing of him left. She couldn’t let that happen.

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll be fine. But you won’t. Please Killian. Please just let us try this first. We have to.”

He blew a breath out of his nose, looking down when she grabbed his hand in both of hers and squeezed. “Alright,” he said. “Alright, we'll try.”

She grinned as she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him, holding him. His hand moved up to her hair, cradling her head, his forehead coming to rest against hers.

“So. How exactly does this trial work? What do we have to do?”

There was a quick burst of magic to the left of them, and a door twisted into existence a few feet away. The carved wood groaned slightly as it seemed to sway towards them, rocking on its frame, before coming to a stop. They both stared at it.

“Well. Guess that answers that,” she said.

“Indeed,” he sighed, turning back to look at her. She saw a question, huge and all consuming in his stare that went unasked. Right, this was her deal. Her curse. He would follow her lead. Like he always did. Whatever happened, no matter how much it took from her, she would do whatever it took to make sure he got out of this.

“C’mon,” she nodded towards the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

He grimaced as they walked towards it, reaching down to grip the brass handle and opening it for her. “Any idea what’s awaiting us on the other side?”

She squeezed his hand, raising her brows. “Nope.”

They walked through. And the ground beneath their feet vanished.

***

She was falling. Her hair was whipping around her head while the wind rushed up and made her eyes water. Images and noise strobed past like flickering television screens as she plummeted down towards a huge, white nothingness. If she focused she thought she could make out faces, blurred and half formed, but they streaked past her, faster than her eyes could follow. She tried to reach out, tried to find something to grab a hold of, something to slow her fall, but it was like falling through light and sound and a great vast emptiness eager to swallow her whole.

Was this it? Was this what Hades had planned all along? No harm to her physical body sure, but trapping them in some fucked liminal space for eternity? Well. That was a different story.

She tried to look up, or whatever passed for up in this space and suddenly felt something grab her arm. Killian, his grip tight on her, was falling beside her. His mouth was open, mouthing something she couldn’t hear over the roar of noise and wind and her own frantic heartbeat. She tried to reach for him, her fingers outstretched-

When everything slammed to a sudden stop.

Her mind lurched, feeling like the contents of a car with its brakes hit too hard. The tunnel of noise, whatever it had been, was gone, and a blindingly blue sky stretched out in front of her. She tried to blink and turn her head, but her body was locked in place, no longer listening to her.

Only…only it wasn’t her body.

She heard someone call for her, but it wasn’t her name she heard, it was Killian’s. She twisted and when her mouth opened it wasn’t her voice that boomed forth, but a man’s, low and accented, and oh-so familiar to her.

She’d dealt with memory magic before, had stayed up long, magic-drunk nights as the dark one weaving dream catchers together in order to snare memories. She’d been expecting something closer to that, where memories played like snippets of old tv reruns. This was something completely different. She wasn’t just watching Killian's memories, she was living them. In his head.

“What news do you bring me then?” he called.

He sounded happy, and Emma could feel it then, he was excited about something. Somehow, inside his head, she could feel thoughts, could almost reach out and touch them.

He stood on the top deck, near the massive helm. Below him, near the rigging of the sails, a woman with dark hair and seafoam eyes grinned at him. Even before Emma felt the sudden rush of love and recognition, she knew exactly who she was looking at. Milah.

“No news that can safely be shared among mixed company, captain ,” Milah called with a wink. She had Henry’s smile, Emma realized distantly.

The crew around Milah laughed uproariously, and her wide grin was a twin to the one stretching across Killian’s as he swung round the deck to go meet her.

Just as Emma was greedily drinking in the image of the image of the woman who had her son’s grin and Killian's heart, the world suddenly melted and shifted around her. It was as if the memory smeared, all the unimportant bits forgotten and discarded. She moved through short, foggy glimpses of old points in time. Moments alone with Milah, the sound of her laugh, the feeling of her eyes watching him, her laugh lines fanning out from the corners. At the core of it, his love for her was like a warm, even glow in his chest. Emma was suddenly sad that she would never get to meet this woman. This woman with the sharp wit and an easy laugh. She thought she would have liked her.

She kept floating through memories until they solidified all at once into sharp focus. Killian was back on the deck. Only he couldn’t move, something tight twisted around his chest and pinned him down. In front of him, Milah was on her knees. A man stood before her. His hand was buried into her chest.

Emma recognized Rumpelstiltskin as blind, frantic panic tore through Killian, choking her. Killian had never told her explicitly how Milah had died, only that Gold had killed her. But she knew this moment. She knew what happened next.

Rumpelstiltskin's hand tore free, Milah’s beating heart in his grip. He stared at it almost hungrily. Emma heard Killian shout, felt him pull himself free from the ropes binding him and dive for Milah as she slumped back. He caught her, begging, pleading words stumbling from his lips. She felt so light in his arms, a hollow empty shell. They shared a look, Milah’s gaze full of an unspoken farewell.

She heard, rather than saw the crunch of the heart as Rumpelstiltskin crushed it. Milah gasped, dead even before the ashes crumbled and fell to the deck.

Rage built in Killian, blinding and useless. It pushed him to his feet, surged him forward. He cursed Rumpelstiltskin, his hands in fists, desperate to drive them into the scaled skin and rotting teeth of the man who took his love. Rumpelstiltskin's grin was sharp. A blade flashed. Men shouted. A horrible, exquisite pain erupted from Killian’s left wrist and drove him to his knees. Emma wanted to scream.

Everything started moving too fast. The memory grew blurry again, every part of it dulled by the all consuming pain and rage boiling in Killian. He was screaming, driving a hook into Rumpelstiltskin's chest, mocking laughter meeting his ears. Then hands were grabbing him, pulling him back. Pain. Oh god there was just so much pain. Emma felt herself being dragged down with it, Killian’s vision growing black. But even in the darkness she felt the agony, unable to escape it. All alone in his head, she ached.

The memories came and went. Bright flashes of faces crowding into his vision, frantic voices and bloody rags. Blood. There was so much blood. She could smell it, the sharp, copper tang of it. It felt like it coated his tongue, filled his nostrils and tried to drown him. He was being moved, every bump and bounce he felt sending jolts of pain through his system and forcing him back into blank unconsciousness.

Then heat. It was so sudden and sharp it brought him back to bleeding, screaming life. The world around him was thrown into abrupt focus as molten heat was pressed against the agonizing, throbbing stump of his wrist. He looked at the white hot blade being forced against his skin, watched as it melted his flesh and made it bubble around the edges, cauterizing it. He was screaming. It filled his head, an endless bellow of animalistic pain that crashed into Emma like a blow.

When the darkness came for him again, Emma welcomed it with a sob.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when he started to wake again. She didn’t care. Every part of his body was one, long, endless agony. She couldn’t breathe from the force of it. Above him, it grew dark, then light, then dark again. Time moving on with or without him.

A noise woke him at some point. She blinked the grit from his burning eyes, trying to look at where Killian's hand had been severed. His wrist was an angry, mottled thing, the skin around it too pink, too tight. Thick blisters, fat and stretched taunt, seemed too shiny in the pale light below the deck of the ship where they had left him.

Her head lolled, their shared vision turning syrupy around the edges as the pain rose up again and smothered her in burning heat.

She could hear voices, pitched low, all whispering with a panicked edge.

“Fever.”

“ Infection…”

“The amount of blood he lost-”

“No one could survive that.”

Emma writhed inside the shell of the memory. Killian , she sobbed, unsure if he could hear her. Was he in here with her? Was he reliving this too and she just couldn’t feel him? Or had Hades taken him away from her again? It was so quiet now. Killian. Killian. She repeated it again and again, his fever touching her own mind, choking the air from her lungs. How could he bear this? How could anyone bear this?

Fresh pain shot from his wrist and Emma threw her head back and screamed. Tears rolled down her cheeks when it was Killian’s voice, Killian’s pain she heard echoing endlessly in her head as she was pitched sidewise into another memory.

He was vomiting, heat and misery burning him, leaving him feeling feverish and delirious. He was fading in and out of consciousness, through the days, maybe weeks, he could no longer tell. Food and water had to be forcibly shoved into his mouth until he swallowed it, all the while he cursed at them for daring to try and keep him alive in his grief.

Emma watched it all, helpless inside his head. Killian had been right. Hades had found a way to torture them after all. Because this? Watching Killian break apart, unable to help, was agony. She wanted to fight, wanted to scream at the unfairness of it. But she could do neither. She could only sit and witness it all.

More memories faded in and out. In his rare moments of lucidity, the image of Milah, her heart torn from her chest, burned across his brain. His heart felt empty, like a hollow burden, sinking his body down deeper. His love for her burned itself away, twisted and malformed from grief. In its place, only one thought remained. Revenge.

The word repeated itself, over and over, until it became a mantra. As his body healed, as the scar tissue on both his wrist and his heart thickened, he swore it to himself, again and again. He would have his revenge. No matter the cost.

Trapped inside his tortured mind, Emma mourned for him.

***

Killian woke in agony. Pain snaked around his spine and sank into his bones, leaving him too weary to move. For one, terrifying moment, he thought he was back in the underworld. That all this had been a ruse. Emma had never come for him, Hades had simply split open his head and planted the idea of her, giving him hope and then taking it. Yet again.

But this place didn’t feel like his hell. There were voices around him, low murmuring, distinctly human voices.

He tried to open his eyes, but they stayed stubbornly shut. Another wave of pain twisted inside him, washing over him as his back arched and a low, sobbing moan filled his head. Emma. That was Emma’s voice.

“You’re doing great Emma, just a little longer now,” a strange voice near his feet comforted.

He felt her then, Emma. She was scared and exhausted and so, so heartbreakingly sad that it nearly swallowed her.

He wasn’t here, he realized as her emotions buffeted him and surrounded him from all sides. This was Emma’s body. Her memory.

Her eyes opened and Killian looked across the room through tear blurred eyes. She was on her back, doctors and nurses standing around her, their faces hidden with masks and hair coverings. Blinding, overhead lights seemed to beat down on her, making her even more uncomfortable. She tried to move and Killian felt something tug on her wrist.

She let out a small sob of annoyance and pain, looking down at the silver cuff that chained her to the bed. They’d restrained her. She was in pain, she needed help, and they’d restrained her.

Fury raced through him, though he couldn’t tell if it was his or hers he felt, or a combination of the two. She felt so small in the bed, and so completely alone.

Another rush of pain, this one stronger than the first two, sent stars across their shared vision and Emma fell back.

“Okay Emma, you’re ready. It’s time to push, alright?”

She was shaking her head, and Killian felt her panic and his own bleed together. She was giving birth. He was about to witness her giving birth inside her own mind. For some reason the complete invasion of it flooded his brain, made him want to climb out of her head and simply hold her. This was her memory. Hers. He had no right to witness this and Hades certainly had no right to take that choice from her.

But he was here. There was no taking back what had been started. So he sat in the mind of the woman he loved and felt her body tear itself apart.

She was screaming, her body bearing down, the act of giving birth overwhelming her rational brain and simply taking over, trying to push. Sweat poured down her face as she strained, her pain now just a constant steady stream of misery. She wanted it to end. She needed it to end. She just wanted to lay back and sleep and never wake up. She’d fought so hard her whole life and now she had no fight left. She was done.

“You've got this Emma,” a nurse soothed from her left side, her gloved hand rubbing circles on her back. Emma liked her, Killian could feel it. This was a kind person, the only person who treated her like a patient and not a prisoner. A good person, a decent person. Someone who would make an amazing parent. Unlike her.

“Emma, I need you to work with us,” the doctor positioned between her legs called. “You need to keep pushing, your baby is ready to come out.”

Her baby. Killian felt a spark of something light inside her. Emma was too scared to give the feeling a name, but Killian recognized it instantly. Love.

Oh how she loved this little baby. She adored it. She sang it songs in her head and read to it in the bed of her prison cell when everyone else was asleep. She would give anything to her baby if it asked.

So she pushed. She pushed even as she felt like she was tearing in half, when the pain grew knife-sharp and carved her open. Voices blurred around her, all speaking over each other, telling her to take deep breaths, that she was almost there, that it was almost over. She gripped the sides of the bed, shoving forward and pushed until she thought her bones would crack and she would break apart until there was nothing of her left.

“Big push now Emma! Big push!”

She screamed and it was like the ozone in the room ignited, the lights in the room glowing white hot and shattering. Killian felt a punch of raw, primal magic explode from within her and then-

A baby’s cry, small but strong, broke through the silence. Henry. He was here. Killian wanted to look at him, wanted to see the boy's face, the feeling nearly overwhelming him. But Emma didn’t turn to look. She squeezed her eyes shut, and sank into the mattress.

“It’s a boy Emma,” the doctor said, a smile in his voice.

A boy. She had a son. A beautiful, perfect son. He cried out, and Killian felt it drive into Emma's heart like a knife. Every part of her wanted to turn, wanted to take him in her arms and hold him, to soothe his cries and protect him from every bad scary thing in this world like it was her only job in this life.

But…she couldn’t. She loved him more than anything. She would give him anything to make him happy, to keep him safe. And because of that she knew that meant he had to go away. As far away from her as possible. He deserved so much, he deserved the whole world. And she couldn’t afford to give it to him. All she had to give him was a chance. A chance at a better start. Without her. She couldn’t be a mother, couldn’t be his mother. She would ruin him. Taint him somehow. She wouldn’t do that to him.

Killian felt the decision form in her mind, felt her shake her head and grit her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut as tears spilled down her face. He heard the doctor tell her that she could change her mind, that it wasn’t too late. But he knew. He knew what happened next. He wanted to beg her to change her mind, to see that she already was a mother, he wanted to be there and tell her over and over until she believed it. But he couldn’t change the past. He could only watch it.

“No. I can't be a mother,” her voice was so small, it broke him.

He felt her heart tear itself in two. When the doctors carried her baby away from her, when Henry’s small, searching cries faded down the hall into silence, Killian felt as a piece of Emma’s heart went with him. Heartbreak didn’t come close to describing this feeling. It was as if a huge, yawning emptiness split open in her chest where her heart had once sat and consumed her.

***

Killian woke with a start, jerking up and dragging air desperately into his lungs. Beside him, Emma shot up, panting, eyes darting until she saw him. Her face was pale, her hair damp from sweat and sticking to her face. She opened her mouth, her eyes rapidly moving over his face, before flinching away from him and vomiting into the tall grass. He shot forward.

“Emma, breathe. It’s alright, it’s over. What did you-?”

“Probably a good idea to give her a minute,” a taunting voice called from behind them. “She had a hell of a ride in there.”

Killian’s head spun, white hot rage spilling into his blood. Behind them, Hades sat back in a plastic lawn chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, grinning.

“You bloody bastard,” Killian was on his feet, his hand clenched. The overwhelming urge to stomp the heel of his boot into Hades’ cold, dead smile, nearly blinded him.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Hades warned, a single finger raising in the air. “We wouldn’t want to do anything rash now, would we Emma?” He leaned over, calling to her. From her kneeling position, she shoved her middle finger over her shoulder without turning and spat in the grass.

“Hades if you’ve hurt her-”

“Me? Oh no, I didn’t do anything,” he said with mock innocence. “All I did was show her your memory.”

Killian felt his blood run cold. What memory could he have shown her for her to react like that? He knelt back down when Emma moaned, wiping the back of her hand against her mouth.

“Ignore him,” she rasped. “I’m alright. It was-it was just intense.”

“Emma love, call off the deal. I won’t have you in pain like this, I can’t-”

“No!” her eyes burned as she reached up to grip him. “Killian, no, I can handle it. Please. I promise.”

Killian blew a sharp breath from his nose, trying to keep his composure. “Emma,” he tried to make his voice gentle but it still carried an edge. “Love, what memory did he show you?”

Her eyes went distant for a moment, and Killian felt his stomach tighten. He had lived centuries, had done countless brutal things. Any of them were enough to have her react like this. The question was, which one had Hades chosen?

“It was Milah,” she said after a pause. “The moment Rumpelstiltskin killed her, and took your hand.”

Killian went still, staring at her. Hades had shown her that moment? Milah’s face, frozen in fear, floated in front of his eyes, there and gone in seconds. A phantom twinge of pain jolted from his wrist reflexively.

“How much-” he swallowed. “How much did he show you?”

“Oh, I showed her everything, don't worry!” Hades's cheery voice called. “No gory detail left out. Gave her the full surround sound experience, didn’t I Emma?”

Beside him, Emma's face turned pale, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. Killian remembered the pain he had felt trapped inside her memory of Henry’s birth, the agony she had gone through, and felt dread turn his skin cold. She had experienced him losing his hand. Even in his most lucid recollections of that day, Killian had never managed to remember that pain in anything other than hazy, blurred-over recollections. He had pushed it so far from his mind to protect himself from reliving that brutal torment.

And Hades had just made her experience it in full, merciless detail.

“You bastard Hades, there was no bloody need to show her-”

“Show her what? The moment you decided to dedicate your life to avenging your one true love?” Hades asked, his eyes growing wide with mock innocence. He turned to Emma and grinned. “No offense of course. No shame in being the runner up.”

Killian surged to his feet, blood pumping, hook raised. He would bloody end him. Here and now.

“Don’t let him get to you.” Emma said, pushing herself up on shaky legs, to grip his arm. “He's not worth it.”

Killian spared her a glance. “He doesn't have the bloody right. He doesn’t have the right to reach into our heads and pull out our pain just to torture us with it.”

“Oh I’m pretty sure I do though. After all,” Hades steepled his hands together, his gaze locking on Emma. “We made a deal.”

“The deal was to test our true love, not whatever twisted game you’re playing at Hades,” Killian snapped.

“And that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Hades said, his tone taking on an edge of false sincerity. “True love isn’t just some cheap card trick, it’s the most powerful magic that exists. To have it you need to love so fully and completely that it’s like second nature. And you can’t have love like that when you don’t really know a person, now can you?”

The god of death gestured with both hands, like a demented talk show host. “Seriously this is a once in a lifetime opportunity here! I really wouldn’t pass this up if I were you. You,” he pointed to Killian. “Get to finally see inside the head of the saviour, finally learn what makes her tick. And you,” his hand swung to Emma. “Get to learn what kind of man Killian Jones really is.”

His words felt ominous. A promise and a curse all at once.

“Ignore him,” Emma said. “I already tried to tell him earlier that this whole test was pointless.” She turned to look at him, her mouth turning up at the corners as a fire lit behind her eyes. “I already know exactly what type of man you are.”

“Mmmm, do ya though?” Hades asked with a hiss of breath, tilting his head to the side. “See, I'm not so sure about that. I mean you two have known each other, what, a few months at most? He’s got a whole three centuries worth of history before meeting you. Entire lifetimes lived before you were even born.”

His gaze sharpened, the edge of his smile growing pointed. “Are you really sure he’s even worth it?”

“Yes.”

Killian sucked in a sharp breath at her sudden certainty. She turned and looked at him, her eyes holding promise. “Yes, I know he’s worth it.”

“Touching,” Hades said dryly. “Really. And for your sake, I hope you’re right. We’ve got a hell of show left to get through.”

Killian could feel the magic starting again, could feel the rush of it start to build, and shook his head. He still didn’t trust this, any of this. He knew how Hades made deals, and he knew there was no way he would give either of them up so easily.

“Emma said you agreed on a fail safe, a way out for her if she needs it. How do we know you’ll honor that?” He asked, stopping the god from conjuring another door.

Hades turned to give them a bored look, as if the question was barely worth his time. “Emma isn’t dead, not yet anyway. I don’t have any way of keeping her bound in the underworld with me. She has the ability to leave whenever she wants.”

“Yeah sure…one small problem though,” Emma glanced between the two of them. “I can’t exactly get up and walk out while I’m stuck in a sleeping curse, can I?”

Hades’s smile turned wolffish, his eyes lighting as if she’d finally said something interesting. “Well now, how funny you bring that up. I was wondering when you would.”

When they both only stared at him, the god’s face fell.

“Hello? Sleeping curse?” he said, gesturing to Emma with a flicking hand. “True love’s kiss? Big flashy light show? Thought this was all sort of obvious? Gods you two really are slow. Here.” he jumped to his feet, hands tucking into the pockets of his pants, and stalked towards them.

“Let me break this down for you. You have two options, one; you see my test through to the end and test the strength of your love, or two;” he held up two fingers on his left hand. “If at any point you want the trial to end, all you have to do is kiss her. She goes back home, no hard feelings, thanks for playing, and you,” he turned to Killian, his grin predatory. “Stay here with me. And we go back to our fun little games.”

They were still for a moment, Emma hand in his squeezing tight. They could. They could just end this now. He could end this now, and save her. He turned to her, caught her tortured gaze. Her head gave one, barely noticeable shake, no.

“Unless, of course,” Hades continued, taking a step towards them. “You’re worried it won’t work?”

Killian blinked. An old, nearly buried dread rising in him like ocean water in a sinking ship. That old fear that Hades was right. That it wasn’t true love at all.

Oh he loved her of course. He had never loved anyone the way he loved Emma Swan. Even the way he had loved Milah had been different. Not any worse or any less but…different. Loving Emma Swan was like loving the sun. It came as natural to him as breathing.

But in his weakest, most torturous moments of doubt he wondered. He wondered if she ever felt the same. She loved him, of course, in her own quiet way. And he had taken that love and cherished it, held it closely to his heart and lived off it, satisfied with all she gave him.

But. True love? In the depths of her heart was it really true love? The uncertainty of it killed him. And he knew that Hades was perfectly aware of that fact. He had practically split Killian’s head open, torn out chunks of him. Every fear, every doubt, every agonizing thought that Killian had ever felt, Hades knew. And now he planned to torture both of them with it.

“We’ll keep going with the trial.” Emma said, breaking Killian’s thoughts apart and scattering them. “But we need real memories this time, not whatever sadistic thing you find in our pasts that you feel like torturing us with.”

“Ugh. Fine then, since you two want to be boring, we’ll do this your way! Let’s start at the beginning.” He flicked a hand through the air and another door appeared before them. “No more skipping to all the fun bits first. Off you go!”

They stared at it for a moment. It seemed to pulse with magic, threatening and inviting all at once. In his hand, her fingers were cold, the knuckles white where they gripped him tightly. He shifted, lifting his hook and brushing a lock of hair from her shoulder. Her eyes found his and locked on, a question in her eyes. He waited.

“What memory did he show you?” Emma asked finally, glancing up at him. “I’m guessing it was one of mine. Which one?”

Killian debated not telling her. Did she really need to know how Hades had stolen that moment from her? But her face was resolute, her gaze steady. There was no point withholding this from her.

“You were in the hospital,” he said, watching her face. “Giving birth to Henry.”

“Oh.” she said, so quietly he barely caught it. Pain flashed across her face, fast and sharp, before her walls went up again and her expression grew blank.

They both turned to look at the door as it swung open, the hinges squeaking slightly. He gripped her hand tighter, felt her hesitation before she squeezed back. Side by side, they walked through together.

#captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #there is probably a lot of spelling mistakes in this #i wrote all of this on my phone 💀 not a joke #steph writes #cs fics #cs fanfic #captain swan fanfic

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boydykedevo · 8 months

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idk i just think you should have like a little respect for op when you're on their post yknow like you CAN do what you want but that doesn't make it not rude. Basic politeness still applies. I don't think "please avoid doing that on my post in the future" is "policing someone else's internet activity". You're in my fucking house??? Make your own post??? Ik yall dont have full context but im not crazy here right that's not unreasonable????

#vaguepost but not about anyone reading this (unless theyre stalking me)#i have calmed down a lot. and anxiety brain has forced me to consider it thoroughly. and this is the conclusion ive come to for now.#icarus is complaining #probably shouldve just blocked them out that gate but like. i wouldntve wanted to be blocked for an innocent mistake if it were me.#whatever i am moving past this the second the clock strikes midnight i will forget allllll about it *casting spell*

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katalist · 10 months

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Just some personal thoughts I figured I'd get on paper

But it's always weird for me getting into fandoms so focused on shipping because I do not experience romance in the same way that other people do. Like, I feel like I UNDERSTAND romance and I get the draw of it, but I just usually do not care /more/ about romance than any other aspect of a show. I get the same, if not more excitement, out of forged friendships and found family, and other forms of euphoria/dramatic tension especially those relating to self identity and dramatic irony.

Which is why miraculous ladybug makes it so fun, because the core relationship is caked in a million layers of identity issues and dramatic irony, and there are dozens of offshoot non-romantic-relationships that frame the whole thing. And the fandom makes it so accessible to someone like me.

I like the lovesquare not because I relate to the romance aspects or really ship it, but because the tangled web of secrets makes it so interesting to me–especially as a trans person who was (and still is, largely) forced to remain closeted for many years of my life, characters with secrets always grip my heart in a kind of tragic way.

I love Kagami and Felix's relationship not because I really actively "ship it" but because they remind me of the same type of relationship and personalities as many of my friends who are in odd couples, along with my odd, older millennial cousins, etc... I can just envision domestic life for them so easily and I feel like I know the type of adults they'll grow up to be. It's like a familiar comfort thing.

The other relationships in the show are similar, especially with the side characters, I know people in relationships like those and it's just generally nice to see.

More than that, I love the other kinds of relationships, the forged friendships and found family. Forget a lovesquare reveal/confession–I want to see Nathalie and Adrien's relationship evolve, and for Felix and Adrien to grow together. (I REALLY want to see Nathalie and Felix have a standoff, actually!) And for Kagami and Marinette to grow as friends. I look forward to Luka's return. I will fanboy so hard when there is an episode focusing on Nino/Marinette friendship or Adrien/Alya friendship.

There's just so many threads in this show that I find so interesting, and I was so worried when I joined this fandom that like, it would JUST be shipping saturation, and that I would find shipping stuff boring, and I would feel extremely left out. But it's all interconnected, and the writing of the show makes the idea of the shipping accessible to me, which in turn makes the fandom side of things accessible too. And the fandom is not just locked in on shipping either, it's very expansive with lore and dramatics and everything else, and I LOVE that.

It's such a breath of fresh air compared to other "fandoms" I've been involved in–ones where the chemistry of characters make no sense to me, where the characters just feel like blank slates to push together, where it's important to have the "right discourse opinions," etc., where the fandom shipping overshadows more thoughtful (in mind) analysis and themes and other types of relationships. No hate to those fanbases, it's just not for me.

#kind of just a mindless ramble about my feelings about fandom and shipping lol #katalist speaks #I'm somewhere on the aromantic spectrum for those who don't know but I don't want to outright commit to any label #not proofread or thought out so theres probably a lot of grammar/spelling mistakes

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iho6hi · 2 years

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i actually like the change in barou from when we first saw him to when we see him again with naruhaya. in his first appearance he was scrawnier, thinner than now, and despite being confident in himself he was way more passive. from his childhood we can see that he had an ego and considered himself sublime, but wasn't aggressive in any of the panels and his teammates actually approached him and interacted w him. in the second arc he was much more built and more aggressive and condescending with his tone and body language on the field. to me it seems like its the ego getting to his head ever since stepping foot in blue lock; there's a shift in his demeanor and i like the way its right in my face and it's telling me this is the mentality were cementing.

#blue lock #bllk #barou shouei #barou #blue lock barou #bllk barou #JUST SOME THOUGHTS #first and probably last post about barou 😊 i like barou a lot tho #character depth is fire #probably huge grammar and spelling and comma mistakes 💀 dc still releasing this into the wild and unknown

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lovelylemontrash · 1 year

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ok you mentioned you almost wrote an essay about how deadnames work in the Death Note universe and i am INTERESTED please tell me more

ok here goes:

Most people are gonna assume that trans folks (and cis folks who changed their names) are somewhat immune to the Death Note as they most likely will introduce themselves with their chosen name, thus unintentionally hiding their deadname (or as some argue in this situation, their "true name"). That assumption is wrong.

For an in universe/canon example of the effectiveness of a birth name/chosen name, let's take a look at the mini series Death Note New Generation. (I'm sorry if I get any details wrong, it's been a while since I watched it.)

In one of the episodes we meet a former criminal, who has changed his name to start anew. We get insights into his life; his struggles to move on from his past, his former partner being released from prison and contacting him, his nightmares, but also his new job, his new girlfriend, his new home. Shien (who is introduced in this episode) watches him, though in the end is steadfast in his believe that people can't change and writes down his name - his birth name. From hacked security cameras, Shien watches as the seconds pass by - thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty - the man doesn't die. Confused Shien checks his spelling, has he made a mistake? There's no way. He wonders... and writes down the man's chosen name, another forty seconds pass, Shien watches as the man clutches his chest and falls to the ground. He's dead. Shien remarks that he can't say wether that man had or hadn't really changed, but what he does know is that this man's chosen name was his real name.

It's very easy to take this example and apply it to a trans person, meaning that writing down their chosen name doesn't immunize them from the effects of the Note.

Though some might ask "But what about aliases?". Simple. The person using an alias doesn't believe that this is their name, that's why Light wasn't able to kill Naomi when she gave him a fake name, she knew it was fake; that's why L revealed his variety of aliases even to his main suspect. They were conscious of the fact that they're intentionally hiding their true name, in this case their birth name.

The last point I want to discuss is the case of someone who's still finding their true name. Let's say for example a person's birth name is John Doe, though they don't connect to that name and rarely use it anymore. They've tried other name's, Jane, Jimmy, Jessica, but none of those have sticked, so they continue trying out different names. In this case, I'd argue that their birth name would still be effective and work sort of like a place holder, as the person hasn't found their true name yet.

tldr: trans folks are not immune to the Death Note and their chosen names are just as effective as a cis persons birth name.

p.s.: I also don't think it matters what name is one someone's official documents/ID/etc., like it doesn't matter if haven't gone through the process of legally changing their names; their chosen/true name will still take effect

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #probably forgot smth i wanted to add but whatever #ignore any spelling grammar mistakes i have to post this before i get embarrassed #if you disagree keep it to yourself #i'm the only true death note scholar and only my opinions on it matter /hj #i love discussing the rules of the note hehehe special interest activated #like when i explained that corona can't be caused by the note #tho that explanation is much shorter and less interesting.#anyway thanks for asking this ily #death note #the movieverse actually plays around with a lot of the rules of the note it's really fun

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sofisalonso · 5 months

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SOFIA ALONSO tw: eating disorders, body image disorders

name: Sofia Alonso nicknames: sofi, sofita, so, miss alonso date of birth: april 2nd zodiac: aries sun, gemini moon, virgo rising age: 29 residence: woodvale - apt. 207 fc: selena gomez skeleton: glitch - muse A

Ever since they got married, Clara and Rafael Alonso wanted nothing more than a daughter. They struggled to conceive, but after ten years of looking for her, Sofi arrived on a rainy April morning, and their lives changed forever. The two most hard working people worked their fingers to the bone to make sure Sofi had everything she could ever want. A kitten at home, good grades at school and dance practices every single day, nothing would ever be lacking in their daughters life if they could prevent it.

From a very early age, everyone around them realized Sofi was gifted at dance. Any style she tried, wether it be jazz, contemporary, hip hop or ballet, she became great at quicker than the rest of the kids. If you asked her, she'd say she could feel the music telling her where to go and how to move, and she loved every single second of it. Classical music was a treat to her, and even though ballet was the style that less allowed her that freedom of movement, it's the one she loved the most. The pink tights and tutus were everything to her as a little girl, so when asked what she wanted to be when she was older, one answer was clear: Sofia Alonso wanted to be a ballerina at the New York City Ballet.

She auditioned for the School of American Ballet when she turned six and didn't make the cut, but the year she turned seven she was admitted, even scoring a full scholarship, and stayed there all of her schooling years, until she turned 18.

Twelve years of ballet school left Sofia... Scarred. She'd become obsessed with her weight and her proportions, everything about her had been scrutinized, poked and prodded in public, comments unlike anything else she'd ever heard, and she'd been able to take it all, until one of her last days in class, she hadn't been sleeping and barely eating trying to prepare for her end of year assessment, she missed the landing on a jump with her partner and sprained her ankle. All the years of hard work down the drain. She probably could've recovered from that but her body was in such a state, and her mind in an even worst one, that after one visit to a doctor, he noticed how rib-showingly-skinny she was and asked if someone had been doing this to her on purpose, she realized this was too much, this was the final straw. She couldn't live her whole life like this, there was so much more to life than dancing on stage but also feeling hungry and sore all the time.

So she quit. Much to the displeasure of her parents, who'd worked their whole life to see their daughter be a principal at the New York City Ballet, Sofia felt happy and free for the first time ever. She worked odd jobs here and there for the first year, not wanting to be anywhere near a dance studio and getting healthy once again, and one day, one of her friends asked her to come with her to pick her daughter up at ballet school. Seeing all those little girls so happy, so overjoyed with their little outfits, it brought back the love she'd felt as a child. That's what she wanted to do, she didn't want to be a ballerina, she wanted to help little girls fall in love with dance.

Sofi got a job at the studio the following week, and has been working there for the past five years, starting from helping out randomly to now teacing six classes a day, all to little girls from beginners to starting to shape up for ballet schools. She didn't have the heart to teach older girls, she couldn't be mean or rough with them, it made her feel so much pain.

Aside from that, Sofi enjoys reading, listening to music, spending time with her cat Mabel and dancing with her heart on her time off.

#cornelia.intro #bio.sofi #//alright probably lots of spelling mistakes but i am very tired because is so stinking warm!#but here is ma girl so #tw. eating disorder #tw. body image disorder

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dcviline · 11 months

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𝐁𝐈𝐎 : 𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐒

Aurora Desrosiers was born as Perséphone de Castellane at the start of the 13th century (the specific year, she cannot remember). Her family were the cousins of a baron of a small state under the Count of Provence in lower France. Her father and mother struggled to have children due to her mother’s fragile health, and out of desperation, her mother sought help from mystics and those rumored to practice magic, much to her husband’s ire. Then came a woman whose name has never been told to Perséphone, only ever addressed as “the Witch”, meeting with her mother in secret. She could help her conceive, she declared, but she would owe her a debt in return. Perséphone’s mother agreed, and soon found herself carrying the child she’d always wanted. The girl was born, healthy and full of light, and the parents threw a party so that all may share in their joy. But it was at this party that the Witch approached Perséphone’s mother, asking her to fulfill the debt she owed to her. Perséphone’s father was outraged and cast the Witch out of his home, and his wife was unable (and unwilling) to repay her debt and earn further shame from her husband. Enraged at the betrayal, the Witch cast a curse on their daughter as she was dragged away, swearing that if even a single drop of blood should fall from the girl’s hands, she would die the moment it hits the ground. Her father attempted to kill the witch for this curse, but she disappeared and was never found.

Because of this prophetic curse, Perséphone’s parents feared for her life, paranoid levels of protectiveness leading them to treat their daughter more like a fragile doll than a person. She was never allowed to leave their estate, nor could she leave her room without being accompanied by two handmaidens who would do everything for her. She was not allowed to use a quill, or cut her own meat at dinner, nor hold or touch anything that could possibly cut her skin. Even stranger, she was never allowed to leave her hands bare; always forced to wear gloves of layered fabric or leather. The only freedom Perséphone claimed were the times she would sneak away to play with the son of the Captain of the Guard, her only friend in childhood outside of her handmaidens, and the only one who did not try to enforce any restrictions on her. But her dear friend was sent away to squire for a knight when he turned fourteen, and she was told she would not see him again. It was a frustrating childhood that tainted whatever love she had for her parents. Perséphone was never told why these rules had to be followed, though she was always assured that she would be told when she was “old enough to understand”. But her parents never had the chance.

The day before she turned seventeen, in the early hours of the morning, Perséphone managed to sneak away from her handmaidens and guards, roaming freely through the estate for the first time since before her friend was sent away. It wasn’t long before she came across a room full of beautiful fabrics and thread, and a spindle in the middle of it all. It was simple curiosity that led her to sit at the wheel, pretending that she was like the other girls, sewing a dress. But in the middle of her fantasy, a careless swipe pricked her finger against the needle of the spindle, and she fell into a deep slumber the moment the first drop of blood hit the tiles beneath her, just as the sun dawned. She was found shortly after, though not dead as was feared, but only because her mother had attempted to teach herself the magics needed to reverse the curse placed on her daughter. She could not do away with it, but she prevented it from taking her life.

Perséphone, left in her sleeping stasis, was hidden away in a chateau on the southern border of their lands. There she would be kept safe until her mother was able to fully undo her curse. Or so, that was the intent. Five years later, she awoke, but it was not her mother waiting for her. Instead, it was her friend, the son of the Guard Captain, once sent away to become a squire and later a knight. He had freed her from her slumber by finding and slaying the Witch that had created the curse. However, as she was dying, the Witch placed a final, spiteful curse onto Perséphone, one that this time would only be satiated by her death. But her friend offered her another way out. A way that she could persist beyond her impending death. Blood was exchanged between the two, and after the curse had ripped the life from her body, she awoke once more, born anew as a creature of the night.

Joyous, she wished to return immediately to her family, but her friend warned against it and tried to stop her. Confused by his resistance, she defied his warnings and returned to the estate, only to find her parents, her handmaidens, and the rest of their household had been slaughtered. “It was a necessary sacrifice,” she can remember him whispering, “to gain enough power to kill the witch.” Horrified, Perséphone attacked him, but could not bring herself to kill him. She fled as far away from Provence as she could. In truth, Perséphone de Castellane died that night, and from her death arose a woman who would call herself Aurora.

It took several decades before Aurora encountered another like herself. She had gone to sleep as a sixteen year old, then awoken and found herself to be a woman in her twenties; one that would now stay that way forever. Naive, confused, and desperate to find her place in society again, she did not hesitate when the Count Desrosiers offered her a place in his court. It was he who taught her the ways of vampires, how to survive the daylight and sustain herself while also blending in with the humans around her. In return, she gave him the only thing he ever asked of her: her hand in marriage.

Things were splendid for the first two hundred years (give or take). But the passing decades wisened her to the truth of her husband's affections. Aurora was little more than a trophy for him. A pretty little thing to decorate his arm in public and misuse when it suited his whims. He loved having absolute power over her, and the more she pushed against this, the more controlling he became. For three centuries she put up with him, allowing her disdain for him to grow beneath the grace of patience he did not deserve, but not a day longer. On the anniversary marking the three hundredth year of their marriage, she drove a stake into his heart. He was not mourned, not by Aurora, nor anyone in his household. She was not a naive girl any longer. No, the Countess Desrosiers was far more adept than the girl she had once been.

When the French Revolution came and all titles and such states of rulership were demolished, her peace did not last long. No longer shielded by the privacy and power she held as a countess, Aurora elected instead to begin traveling the world. She first roamed as a socialite from the aristocracy, and now maintains a similar alibi. Most who meet her will come to know her as an eccentric young heiress living off of an endless fortune. Those who know better, however, know that her name holds power beyond arbitrary wealth. Aurora Desrosiers, the Dead Beauty of France.

#᯽ muse ⊱ ── 𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 #here is the temp bio for that s.leeping b.eauty inspired vamp oc #anyway uhhhh this probably has a lot of spelling/grammar mistakes and redundant sentences bc Brain Tired #I'll work on my siren bb tomorrow hopefully but!! this is what I used my energy on tonight <3

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