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i-drop-level-one-loot · 6 days

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To Love You (Platonic Yandere! Child x Monster!Reader)

Chapter 0: The Body I Stole

(CW: death, femme bodied gender neutral reader, child abuse) very short prologue for a story idea I had

There was a muffled sound of a woman struggling quietly as she chased the terrified gasps of a child running for his life. A small boy, maybe five years old, covered in scrapes and bruises new and old, was fleeing his mother as she limped after him.

Avery had caused the accident.

Her eyes were cold and sharp, glaring at the road ahead of her as they drove down the curvey mountain. It wasn't his fault, the scene at the birthday party, but his mother didn't believe it. She never did. The fear of being "disciplined" was something Avery never really shook, in fact, it was something he learned to expect..

He didn't know why he did it. But a surge of adrenaline electrocuted his fingertips, and launched his little arms towards her and the steering wheel. The family car swerved towards the trees, rolling twice before smashing into a tree.

The mother was practically dragging her shattered ankle through the weeds as she tried to catch her kid.

"AVERY! COME BACK HERE RIGHT! NOW!" Her voice tore through the woods. The venomous words that promised pain was heard by more than just Avery, however.

They didn't know what the situation was, nor did they care.. All (Reader) could think about was their hunger.

A twig snapping made the woman stop, believing she had found her child. The scowl on her beautiful features deepened, making the woman look more like a monster than the creature who had just woken up.

"Avery. If you come out right now I won't be mad. I promise."

Even to a monster that had been sleeping for the past hundred or so years, her lies were obvious. (Reader) listened to the little one covering his mouth a few feet away, and guessed that he was the Avery this woman was speaking to. But unfortunately for her, Avery was hiding in the opposite direction.

She couldn't even fake a smile as she hobbled over towards where the monster hid, stretching out their creaky joints.

As she passed the thick trees to where she heard the snapping branches, a small look of hateful triumph was shattered as she found something else standing where she assumed her son would be. The eight foot tall creature with grey skin smiled down at the human. Their body smelled of dirt and moss, but looked like a mummified corpse stretched out. Black hair fell around their shoulders, almost covering their six, blood red eyes, focusing on the trembling prey before them.

Her beautifully painted lips weren't given a chance to scream before the creature opened it's jagged toothed maw, and bit her pretty little head in half.

(Reader's) strong jaw crushed the woman's skull easily, splashing her soft innards down their throat and across their naked chest. It had been so long since they ate that they forgot to take the basic feeding steps.

What was her height? Her hair color? Her chest size? They forgot to care. It wasn't until the only thing left of her body was her left leg.

"Ah.. I made a mistake." (Reader) mumbled to themselves as they tried to recall what their meal's appearance was. If they hadn't been starving, they would have morphed into their new persona before eating them.

They did their best in replicating the woman.

Their spine snapped loudly as they shrunk, hair and skin rapidly changing in color and texture, until they were the woman as they somewhat recalled her to be. 'I'll just find a better suit later..'

Not even the woman's clothes remained in the bloody aftermath. (Reader) sighed as they shook her leg. 'My starvation made me sloppy.' They finished off the last leg of their meal, before turning and surprising themselves with the appearance of a small boy with black hair watching them. (Reader's) new eyes widened, having been so focused on their food that they hadn't noticed him sneaking up on them.

As they contemplated killing and taking the young boy's form, he surprised them again, rushing forward suddenly and wrapping his thin arms around (Reader's) naked flesh.

A/N: I know it's short, but I had an idea for a multiple chapter story, with a clingy adoptive son ❤️ needed to get the OG mother out of the way before the story, because even though this is what I want to happen in the story, it doesn't fit the way I want the first chapter to start haha

#yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere family #prologue #monster reader #gn reader #afab reader #kinda not really #cw blood #cw death

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littlenightmares2 · 28 days

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it gets me a little irritated when people act like mono isn't supposed to be an intrinsically compassionate foil to six's character.

every moment of his character in cutscenes with six demonstrates kindness and compassion. his hand is always reaching out to offer comfort and reassurance. when they're separated, despite the fact that he's answering the tower's call, he still goes out of his way to ensure that him and six are reunited and that he is safe again instead of continuing to push forth to the pale city.

the only aggression he shows is towards entities that are hostile to himself. he does what he has to do to survive, which is something that him and six do have in common. but him smashing the bullies open or lighting the doctor on fire doesn't negate the fact that he is being portrayed as a child who is inherently more tender-hearted and trusting than the girl he's travelling with.

mono is afraid of being alone. by the time we pick up six's story again within the maw, we can see that she has become adept at being alone. they're stark opposites.

even the simple theory of shapes in character design tells us so much about the two of them. mono's shape is square. this indicates to us that he is strong, sturdy, reliable, and supportive. six's shape is triangular. triangles signify that a character is cunning, sneaky and dangerous. (sometimes it is used to indicate that a character is 'evil,' but we know all too well as a fandom that using that term to describe six is doing her a complete disservice and shows a deep misunderstanding of her character.)

all this to say that it's upsetting that people see the need to try and make mono out to be more edgy than he actually is, often just in retaliation against the misunderstandings people have about six's nature. this series is very open to interpretation, so it's fair enough if you personally believe him to have a darker side. but it's my personal belief that isn't the correct portrayal of his character and there's very little evidence of that being the case within the series.

#little nightmares #mono little nightmares #mono and six #ln2 #little nightmares 2 #lee talks

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princeloww · 2 months

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The Real St. Judes: Gartloch Hospital - History (abridged)

The Scottish Lunacy Act of 1857 saw the creation of the Glasgow District Lunacy Board. The act, through these boards, aimed to establish and operate "district asylums", which would house patients unable to pay for the already existing "Royal Asylums".

In 1889, the Gartloch Estate was purchased by the City of Glasgow for approximately £8600 (~1 million today). The Glasgow District Lunacy Board were to turn it into an asylum for the mentally ill, and Gartloch Hospital would open in 1896.

In the early 1900s, a tuberculosis sanitorium was opened.

During World War II, Gartloch was temporarily transformed into an Emergency Medical Services Hospital; the psychiatric patients were transferred and housed in other hospitals. After the war, the tuberculosis sanitorium was shut.

Gartloch would fall into the hands of a different board (Board of Management for Glasgow North-Eastern Mental Hospitals), after joining the NHS in 1948.

Although there were 830 beds in 1904, by 1990 there were apparently only 530 - this being just under the amount available when it first opened.

In its last few years, Gartloch would fall under the Greater Glasgow Community and Mental Health Services NHS Trust. In 1996, the hospital officially closed, and was essentially abandoned, until 2003, when plans to turn Gartloch into a village began.

Now, there is a village, "Gartloch Village", surrounding the hospital. The main body, the iconic front we see in Donna Franceschild's TOTA, standing derelict and with boarded windows.

Oh, it's also apparently haunted, according to two nurses.

What was the hospital like?

I've nabbed these (like most of the other information - although I cross-referenced the rest (such as the years) from wikipedia and some other archives) from this article on hiddenglasgow.com.

I was born and lived at 2280 Gartloch Rd (East Cottages) of Gartloch Hospital. My Father, Bill Milne was the Bacteriologist at Gartloch Hospital Laboratory. My Mother was Helen and was the hospital hairdresser. My memories of Gartloch are the most wonderful memories ever. We had the most perfect childhood. The children of employees were involved in lots of differant ways. I remember especially the farm. Our house looked onto the busy fields and the Bishop Loch. We spent many happy summers pickinf tatties with the patients. And in the long cold winters, skating on the Bishop Loch. Christmad parties in the hospital involved all the staff, their children and patients. We got to know many of the patients who had been there most of their lives. Some had been admitted the the unit because of ''having a child out of wedlock'' I have so many stories to tell this page is not big enough! I would love to hear from anyone who remembers Gartloch or who lived/worked there.

Pattie Milne [04/02/2004]

I was talking with my gran t'other night about Gartloch (her maw died in there!) and she remembers these two women that used to walk about when she went visiting. One of them was about 4 foot nothing and the other about 6 foot. They walked up and down the hall, not saying a word to each other, but every now and then the taller one would repeatedly slap the little one on the head (that story seemed funnier when my gran told it!).

Crusty [30/01/2004]

There are a few more interesting stories on the linked article, so if you're interested, I recommend you check them out.

Finally: Takin' Over the Asylum (and other pop culture)

Takin' Over the Asylum aired on the 27th of September, 1994. The six-part drama was filmed in a disused wing of Gartloch, while the hospital was still open and functional. The hospital would close only 2 years after the airing of the show.

Gartloch's iconic, gothic towers would play a key role in the show, and be instantly recognisable to any viewer of TOTA.

Although it shut down in 1996, TOTA would not be the only media produced about the hospital. Wikipedia states that a film was produced in 2005, named (appropriately) "Gartloch Hospital", that covered the history of the hospital. This film went on to win an award in 2007, at the Scottish Mental Health Art and Film Festival, for "Best Factual Film".

Although hidden away, Gartloch hospital has an undeniably interesting history. Personal accounts from the hospital seem to paint it as a fun place, where patients and staff seemed to get along. Knowing the horrors of early mental health treatment, and the abuse many would suffer in these sort of places, we can only hope that these accounts are true and create an accurate image of life surrounding the hospital.

And I wrote all this because I really like David Tennant. Good night

Note the decorative peaks on the towers - they are absent from the rest of the photos. They were reportedly removed in the late 1930's.

SOURCES

Very interesting archive that goes into the history of Gartloch: (link) (source of above images)

Timeline and personal memories: (link)

Overview: Wikipedia (gartloch, Takin' Over the Asylum)

#watch this get 0 notes #david tennant #takin over the asylum #campbell bain #takin' over the asylum #taking over the asylum #donna franceschild #eddie mckenna #fergus mckinnon #fergus mackinnon #francine Boyle #rosalie garrity #history #gartloch hospital

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lucrezianoin · 4 months

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Wyll and Astarion banter (1/2)

Collection of all Wyll and Astarion banter I could find. I started compiling it for fanfic reasons (PART 1 of 2??, i will use the tag wyllstarion banter). Each picture is a different banter. But I added transcriptions:

Astarion: Ever heard of a vampire called Cazador, Wyll? Wyll (knows Astarion is a vampire): I don't think so. Why? Friend of yours? Wyll (doesn't know Astarion is a vampire): Doesn't ring a bell. Why? Gale: He's a patriarch of the Szarr family. Nasty fellow, if the histories are accurate. Astarion: I imagine they are. (note: Darkly, to self)

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Wyll: I'm surprised I never saw you lurking in the shadows at any Baldurian balls, Astarion. Astarion: The city's elite was not my target audience, alas. People ask questions when members of the nobility disappear, and the last thing Cazador wanted was people asking questions.

---

Wyll: I'm feeling a bit parched and peckish. Astarion: Me too. Keep an eye out for any passing vagrants. Wyll: I'm afraid you'll have to content yourself with vagrant chickens.

---

Astarion (if player character): I know these cobbles well - the gate to the Upper City's just ahead. All that time and what's my legacy in Baldur's Gate? Missing friends and broken families. Wyll (also... if played??): You can't undo the past, Astarion. But you can craft a better future, if you so choose.

---

Astarion: Spent much time in the Underdark? Wyll (does not know Astarion is a vampire): I've slayed a death dog or six, crossed a few duergar. I never was scared of the shadows. Wyll (does not know Astarion is a vampire): Some. And you? Seems a perfect hunting ground for... you know. Astarion: Perfect? You try drinking an earth elemental's blood.

---

(more under cut)

Wyll: Astarion, how is the rat diet going? Astarion: It may soon come to an end if you don't shut your mouth.

---

Shadowheart: So, Astarion. Which of us would you rather feed on? If you had free rein? Astarion: Ah! Wyll. No question. He's strong, fast and righteous. I'm salivating already. Shadowheart: Hmm... interesting. Astarion: You sound disappointed. I'll bite you if you ask. Shadowheart: I'm sure you would. Don't sound so eager.

---

Wyll: Killed a few giant bats in my day, Astarion - but never hunted a vampire. Astarion: Just to remind you, I'm merely a spawn. It won't count. But if you want a true vampire, I'm happy to recommend one.

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Wyll: The city fell under Gortash's charms without him casting nary a spell. Astarion: Well, most people are idiots, Wyll. You can lure them into a dragon's maw if you promise a bag of sweets. Wyll: The people aren't stupid, Astarion - they're scared. Gortash provoked a damned war, and then promised them safety. Astarion: Safety, sweets - it's the same principle.

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Astarion: I used to be agog at everything when I first walked in the sun. Perhaps I'm adjusting to this new life. Wyll: It's when you use words like 'agog' that I remember you're actually two centuries old. Astarion: And it's when you think 'agog' is an impressive word that I remember you're just a child.

---

(This is ascended Astarion in a romance with player)

Wyll: The two of you are the unholiest union I can bloody imagine. Astarion: It's funny - I don't recall asking your opinion, Wyll. Wyll: You had the most precious thing - someone who would do everything for you - and you damn well took everything. 'Degenerate' doesn't half cut it.

---

Wyll: To think how vibrant this place must have once been. Children playing, merchants hawking. Real people living real lives. Astarion: I know, can you imagine the noise? This is much more peaceful. Wyll: Come, Astarion. I know you're not really as heartless as all that. Astarion: Of course not, I'm a pussycat really. Just ask anyone who's seen my claws.

(this is a dialogue for "CL_FishermansHut" which I am not sure what it is)

#wyll ravengard #astarion #astarion ancunin #wyllstarion #bloodpact #wyllstarion banter

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years

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Au where Danny is Damians twin. He had gone on countless solo missions since the time he was six and niether he or his brother had ever failed. This time however, was a bit different.

Dr's Jack and Madeline Fenton were playing with forces beyond thier comprehension and endangering the entire world with thier actions. They were clearly aware of it too if thier sketchy work with the government was taken into consideration. Daniel's job was to infiltrate thier lab and copy all thier data into a flash drive before killing the parents and destroying everything. Simple enough, but he made a crucial mistake.

He got curious.

Isn't that always how the eldrich and unknown gets you? You start asking questions and before anyone knows it you're a raving lunatic.

Once he had completed his first three tasks, Danny had put on one of the suspiciously numerous white and black and child sized hazmat suits and went into the beckoning maw of what was mentioned to be the portal. He looked down to step over a bundle of wires and in his momentary distraction hit a button on the wall with his hand.

The next thing he knew everything was tinged green and he was screaming.

Awaking to find his form had changed, leaving him with glowing green eyes, pale skin and white hair he was confused. Mother and Grandfather did not have a meta-gene and according to mother thier Father-the Batman- also did not have it.

Then It clicked. The scientists were studying the afterlife, more specifically the spirits of the dead and how to invade thier realm. Daniel, at the tender age of eight, had died. Whats worse is that he apparently had the ability to flop between life and death at will. Fearing what kind of experiments his Grandfather would no doubt subject him to he finished his mission by rigging the place to blow far more spectacularly then planned and fleeing into the portal.

The resulting explosion could be seen for miles. Upon seeing it from her place on a park bench with her friend, Jazz had immediately knew something terrible had happened.

Three years later Daniel- now going by Phantom- found that the portals maw had survived even if the portal itself did not and it was reactivated by a pair of nosy teens. Amity Park was being attacked by ghosts and the Justice League, a group of famous heros lead by his Father, Wonder woman and Superman, refused to even answer thier calls for help. Odd.

Phantom stepped up and began fighting them both with his powers and his training from the League of Assassins. The people hated him for being dead. The dead hated him for stopping thier rampages and his annoying ability to just disappear. (He's so glad he kept the half living thing to himself, even if it meant he often had to sneak away to living realms to get human food)

As it turns out, the Fentons had a back up location that niether he or the League of Assassins knew about where they stored notes on thier theories about the nature of ghosts and how "evil and mindless" they were. A government based group eventually formed called the Ghost Investigation Ward, or as the locals called them, The Guys In White who then passed a set of laws called the anti-ecto acts.

Daniel had grown up hearing tales of his Father. A paranoid man who thought of everything and had eyes and ears in every sector of the government. He and his League of Justice would never allow this...and yet days passed since the announcement of the acts. Then weeks. Then a month with no words speaking out againsts laws that essentially stripped the rights of an entire species. Did Father believe the lies and slander from the government and the remnants of the Fentons "research"?

If he knew about him would he think he was a monster? A threat to be eliminated?

Daniel fiddled with his domino mask as he began applying the weekly dose of phase-proof paint to the metal of the portals blast doors. He loved his mask. It made him feel just a little bit safer. Yes, he knew logically no one would ever think that a dead child would ever secretly be a living one, but facial recognition software was a very real thing and it wouldn't be long before the GIW modified it to work the blurriness out of ghost photos. Even if they didn't (which they might never considering the groups overall intelligence) people have eyes

Daniel wasn't technically living in Amity Park. At least not legally. He stole whatever he needed and stayed hidden away in abandoned houses and underground caves. Not the most luxurious life, but better than a scapel and rib shears. He shuttered at the thought.

It was almost a week after his and Damians birthday that he saw his parents again. They were fighting in the streets near Polter Heights, the rich side of the city. He wondered what they were there for. He had long taken the portal deep underground where no one could access it without intangibility and Amity really had nothing to offer otherwise. They couldn't possibly know who he was, could they?

He flew closer invisibly, listening to mother state that she planned on recruiting this "ghost child" into the League. Interesting. She didn't know it was him.

Batman. His own father argued that she knew nothing about these creatures and that they were dangerous but handled by the local authorities. Daniel couldn't fight back his sneer. The GIW did nothing while Phantom did all the work and he highly doubted any of the living considered him an "authority". Nevertheless, this proved to Daniel his fears of his Father hating him was well founded.

He did however, find himself surprised at the familiar chill of a blade at his throat. How? Then his brother, his beloved twin ordered him to surrender. Not a chance. Not even for him. Phantom fought his brother that day, no matter how much it pained him. The GIW have been chasing him relentlessly since thier founding and would do anything to get thier grubby little paws on him. If he was taken into custody by any form of law enforcement or was an immediate Game Over, even if it was the Justice League.

Daniel managed to escape but Damian left knowing he recognized that fighting style.

Damian ended up telling the rest of his family about his twin, Daniel and how he had died and how he suspected the ghost protecting Amity was his lost brother.

Unfortunately, Daniel had overheard what Batman had said to his Mother and believed his change of heart and attemps to get him to come home with him were a ruse to get him to let down his guard.

Thus begins the chaotic time in Amity Park where his Mother and Father both try to convince Phantom to live with them.

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #dp x dc #danny phantom #danny and damian twins au #batman #robin #long post #damian wayne #talia al ghul #danny fenton #sorta #daniel al ghul #danyal al ghul #dami and dani sounds cute though

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celtic-crossbow · 3 months

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So I Live a Lie in the Light

Setting: Forest (6 year gap) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Tabby O’Sullivan (OC) Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mentions of child abuse; mentions of pregnancy Summary: Daryl has a secret. He’s always known it could affect all of those he loved. Just not like this. A/N: Tumblr is being an uber twat right now and won’t let me edit so hopefully there are no mistakes.

It had been getting more difficult to hide. Emotions always made it worse. For most of his life, he had tried to hide from them; push them down and bury them. And that was before he was bitten. He had been so young and careless, out in the woods after a particularly heavy beating from his father. Nature had always been his safe place. That night, it was anything but safe.

He had thought it was a dog at first, a low growl the first indication he hadn’t been alone. He had stumbled through the bushes and landed directly in the middle of the dinner table. The creature was kneeling over the deer carcass, its clawed hands holding open a gaping hole so its canine-like maw could delve inside.

It had heard him, probably smelled him now that he thought back on it. Running had proven useless, its long legs catching up to him with ease. He remembered thinking he would die right there that night. Even now, he could feel the pain flare to life around the scar its teeth had left on his shoulder.

Then it had let him go.

His daddy had been passed out drunk when he got home, allowing him to care for the wound without explanation. He would find out on the first full moon since the attack that the creature had been Merle and what exactly that bite meant for the rest of his life.

So Daryl, a lycan, had kept his secret. It made slaughtering the undead while alone a piece of cake. Even when he was with his chosen family, he had strength he would never be able to explain if he didn’t hide it well. Had he not been so consumed by fear, he could have saved them. He could have saved so many of them.

After Rick’s supposed death, he had skulked off into the woods to find his brother’s body, dead or alive. He had left everyone behind. He had left her behind. If there had been anyone he would have told, it would have been her. He wanted to tell her; wanted to show her how much he trusted her. How much he loved her.

But he was afraid. The walkers had done nothing more than die and had become the enemy. What would that mean for him? A lycan. A werewolf.

Rather than live with her rejection, he chose to live with her absence. It was better for both of them this way.

Daryl had made her promise to never visit aside from after each full moon. He had been adamant and, so far, Tabby had held to the promise. She’d set the world on fire for that man, so even when her heart ached for his presence, she held fast to the agreement.

Until now.

Circumstances called for an earlier visit. She brought supplies with her but secretly hoped this would be when he’d return. It had been six years. Two day visits every 30 days or so just wasn’t cutting it. He’d always allow her to stay in his camp, sharing touches and sweet kisses and whispered words. Sharing his bed and his body. She yearned for those moments.

Maybe today was the day.

“Daryl, are you here?” Tabby peeked into the tent, surprised to find Dog stretched out on the bedroll but no archer. “Daryl?” With careful, quiet steps— just like he’d taught her— she crept across the forest floor. It wasn’t long before she heard the familiar snarls of a herd. Oh god, no!

She didn’t call for him. It would only alert them to her presence when he could be perfectly fine and hiding to wait it out. But why would he leave Dog? There was a new, unfamiliar sound as she closed in, an animal of some sort. Probably, being mauled and eaten, the poor thing. When she could see a few of the uncoordinated, shuffling bodies, she pressed herself against the nearest tree, carefully leaning around to the other side.

What she saw defied everything logical she had ever been taught up until the dead began to walk.

A large, black creature was slaughtering walkers left and right; taking heads and limbs and tossing them carelessly. It was covered in fur and stood on two legs at about seven feet, with decipherable knees but canine hocks below them. The fingers and toes were tipped with large, razor-sharp claws that were slicing through flesh like butter. The torso was comparable to that of a human but larger, broader with pronounced skeletal and muscular features. But its head… Its head was large with canine features: elongated snout, pointed ears, and a mouth full of dangerously sharp, dripping teeth.

Tabby was frozen to the spot with wide eyes, tears on her lashes, and only one coherent thought: Daryl.

Had it killed him?

The creature paused with a walker’s head in its grasp, raising its snout to sniff the air— and turned its black gaze right to where she was hiding.

“Oh fuck.” She whispered, stumbling backwards before she turned around and began to run back to the camp. There was a roar unlike any she had ever heard from somewhere behind her but then the sound of more walkers being dispatched. “Dog!” Tabby screamed, relieved when the canine poked his head out of the tent. “Dog, come! We have to find Daryl!” She saw the archer’s pack on the ground, choking on a sob. Why would he go anywhere without supplies? “Come, Dog! We have to—”

When she turned, she was face to face with an open maw of pointed fangs, rivulets of thick saliva stretching and falling to the leaves. She lifted her foot to take a step back, watching its eyes lower and then rise before it growled. She couldn’t die. Not now. She hadn’t survived years of slow moving corpses to be taken out like this when she was so close to everything she could have ever wanted, apocalypse or not.

“Dog.” She whispered, oddly concerned that the canine hadn’t made a single sound. She started to risk a glance but didn’t have to look far. Dog was sitting calmly at her side, looking up at the creature with his tongue hanging out the side of his open mouth.

Movement in front of her brought Tabby’s eyes forward. A huge, clawed hand was reaching for her, slowly. She whimpered, raising her shoulders and screwing her eyes shut. The touch on her face was shockingly gentle. When it pulled away, she released the breath she had been holding and opened her eyes. It was backing away.

It made a noise before things began to shift. Bones and colors and size, shrinking and morphing until…

“Daryl?!”

He was naked as the day he was born, a hand out against a tree to balance himself as if the change had sapped his energy. The look he was giving her was unreadable, so many emotions flitting across his face that she couldn’t pinpoint just one.

“Ya weren’t s’posed to come here.” He whispered.

“Yeah, I get that now.” She snapped. “What the fuck is going on?” He stepped toward and when she stepped back, his expression crumbled.

“Yer afraid of me now.” He choked on a sob, his chin quivering. Daryl walked briskly past her and grabbed his pack, jerking out clothing and proceeded to begin dressing himself. “Ya can go if ya want.” The tremble in his voice made it clear that wasn’t what he truly wanted. Besides, she came to tell him something and now, more than ever, it seemed more imperative.

“Daryl,I—” The redhead braved a step toward him, visibly trembling. Yes, she was afraid. Even so, something in her gut told her that he would never hurt her. She was afraid because she didn’t understand. She needed to know what this meant for her. How it changed things. “I need an explanation. I need to know—”

Tabby paused, standing straighter when he went still with his shirt halfway pulled over his shoulders. Daryl sniffed the air— once, then twice —and turned to her, his brow creased. “Ya smell diff’rent.”

“You can smell me? Like…a dog?”

“Lycan.” He corrected, pulling his shirt the rest of the way down. The archer began to step toward her, but she consciously made her feet stay planted.

“Lycan?” Tabby queried, blinking.

“Werewolf.” Daryl stated calmly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He was nearly in front of her now, taking a moment to lean in and inhale through his nose once again. “Why do ya smell diff’rent?”

“New body wash?” She giggled nervously, a fine shaking to her person but still not moving away.

He actually dared to look insulted. “Ain’t like tha’, Tabby-cat. S’ya scent. Yer smell. Ain’t yer clothes or soap or perfume. S’you.” The jig was up. She had to tell him and then he’d need to her what it meant; if it was dangerous. What she needed to do.

“So,” The redhead dropped her gaze, toeing at the rocks. “What happens when…lycans?” He nodded. “When lycans and humans have sex and that results in the creation of a little being?”

Daryl stood up straight, looming over her in a way that had never intimidated her before that moment. “Yer…pregnant?” Tabby nodded, her chin quivering. Daryl barked out a laugh and doubled over, hands on his knees.

She stared with wide blue eyes, incredulous. “You’re seriously laughing right now?”

The hunter shook his head and stood up with an expression of pure relief. “Thought ya’d got bit. Didn’ have the…dead stench but I didn’ know how else ta take it. Ya weren’ s’posed ta be able.” He sobered quickly, reaching cautiously for her shoulders. When she didn’t back away, he pulled her in against him. “Anyway, aint been through it ‘fore n’ haven’ ran inta many others like me, but s’far s’I know, ain’t no diff’rent than a human. Jus’…” he trailed off, easing his hold on her so that she could move back a little.

Tabby looked up at him, fear present in her trembling orbs. “Just what?”

Daryl bit his lip nervously. “Kid’ll have the curse. Ain’t no two ways ‘bout it. Don’ know how much or how lil’ it’ll show up. Could be born like a pup, could be human. Could change immediately, could take months, years. S’a lot I don’ know.” He let her go and turned away. “M’sorry. Didn’ think ya’d ever…”

Tabby stood in stunned silence, completely overwhelmed and more than a little frightened. One thing hadn’t changed, though. She didn’t think it ever would. She stepped up after a deep breath, wondering if he already knew she was closer because of super hearing or smell. Regardless, she wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled her head between his shoulder blades, pushing back the mental image of them snapping and shifting only a few minutes before.

She still loved him. He was still somehow her Daryl, even if she had a lot to learn.

“I’m scared. You can’t blame me for that.” She felt more than heard him sigh. “But I’m not scared of you.” Now a sharp intake of breath, blue eyes searching for her over his shoulder. Tabby leaned back, only enough for him to turn within her embrace, pressing herself right back into his chest. His arms encircled her immediately, warm and familiar. “I’m scared for our baby, what it means for them. What sort of life they’ll have to lead. What precautions we’ll have to take.”

Daryl nodded but didn’t interrupt.

“I do know that I want this and I want it with you.” She smiled against his shirt, squeezing him tighter. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

“Together.” He repeated softly, a hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

Pulling back, she gave him an all too familiar smirk, a mischievous twinkle in her wet eyes. “So, if I scratched behind your ear, would your leg shake?”

“Stop.”

@lilyevanstan1325 @willowaftxn83-87 @graciepies @sohhel @lazyneonrabbitt

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x female oc #tabby!#werewolf au #were!daryl #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl #Spotify

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end-the-transmission · 11 months

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Life has been chaotic. These two comfort my soul uvu

Hope to post doodles more often. I’ll try <3

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queen0fm0nsterz · 5 months

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thinking about the Lady again and she actually is the Character Ever.

Starting off with her design. How ridiculously simple it is, right? Her yukata is plain brown and has a single layer, her wig (and yes, I am positive what she wears is not her hair but a wig soley because of how easily it comes undone... that kind of hairstyle is meant to STICK when done with actual hair) has no decorations befitting a woman of her powerful status and her mask is nothing but... empty. You could mistake her for a mannequin and you wouldn't even be wrong. It's by design, after all: she is as insanely important, as a figure, as she is anonymous as a person.

But then, it's with amusement that you note that that boring, unexpressive mask is called the "Rascal's mask" when unlocked. It's such an oddly affectionate nickname stemming from a person so utterly despicable. And then you notice her hair. Her long, black hair that should be hidden under her wig, as the hairstyle goes, but are instead hanging out freely. Not very traditional at all, right? You could almost read it as a small act of defiance of... something. Now, what that thing is, I doubt even she knows. Maybe it's just her way to seek individuality without having to step into zones she does not want to touch.

And then, of course, the lack of shoes. It's not uncommon for people to wear slippers in the house - especially for the Japanese - but she just... doesn't. In that small, small way, she is similar to Six - and every other child in the Maw running around barefoot. Except she's above running, of course. She's got the privilege of floating like a ghost so that she may never touch the ground.

(The only time when this rule is broken is when she fights Six, poetically enough. You can see her visibly step back.)

These strange little things are the first things that push you to wonder about her as a person. Not the title, not the Lady of the Maw: the individual behind the mask. Who is that person? What is she like? Is there a way to answer these questions? I think yes, if you know where to look - but is it worth to ask these questions considering what she does?

That depends on you. Me personally, I think there is narrative worth to be found in what she has to hide. Her foil, Six, finds value in the aspects of herself she does not hide: she is very unapologetic in her selfhood. The Lady isn't, for the most part.

(I wonder if that would make her envious of her younger counterpart in a different context?)

Frankly, looking back on her choice of attire, the fact that her personal bedroom is barely decorated is not surprising. She only has the essentials: a bed, the vase with the key, a few pictures of importance (of people long forgotten, herself included no doubt) and... an ungodly amount of misplaced clothes all over her quarters. All the same yukata, repeated over and over, maniacally folded and arranged in towers, but never where they're supposed to be.

A bedroom is the reflection of yourself. Of your inner world. The fact hers looks so barebones is quite telling about who she is. Or isn't. She herself may have some trouble trying to figure that one out.

I think that, in a vacuum, it's easy to assume that the reason she's so displeased by her reflection is soley out of vanity. That is definitely part of it, but I don't think that's all there is. Because after seeing the mannequins that all look just like her, the four women in the picture who also wear her same exact clothes... and that hidden quote.

This quote, which is from Alice in Wonderland. Specifically from a conversation in which Alice expresses how she doesn't recognise herself anymore because of how many times she grew big and small during the course of the day. She is not the same person she was before entering Wonderland.

I find the way she clings to the dolls and the music box to be much more... sombre when keeping this in mind. In a way, that scene is reminiscent of Monster Six clinging to her music box in the chaos of the Tower; an attempt to attach to something safe. For the Lady, it's even more personal. Those are her toys. Her song. No one can take them from her and claim them as theirs. These materialistic tomes are physical proof of her identity. She likes dolls, and she likes to sing that song from her music box. Surely, that much is something.

But a ceramic toy and an old music box are not really enough to placate the inner turmoil. Hence the broken mirrors, the hidden statues... the hung down portraits with their eyes scratched out - from times of the past. There is a person looking back in the mirror which she does not recognise. That can't be her, right?

It isn't. The reflection is but a faux image of her outward appearence. The inside, however... much like this concept art shows, she is melting away. Rapidly decaying no matter how much she tries to stick to her youth.

Because at the end of the day, that's what she's doing, no? The toys, the music box, her appearence... all of it, just to cling a bit more to the person she used to be. Point being that I doubt even she remembers what she used to be.

You'd think a person like this would be inclined to feel at least some sympathy for all the lost children wandering the Nowhere. A sense of kinship, perhaps, or even just... basic human compassion. She has proved to have very human emotions, after all. This is where she proves you wrong. Whenever you think she's stepped the lowest, she always goes lower.

In her humanity, she is brutal. Relentless, ruthless. She offers no sympathy to anyone and has no empathy to spare either. She is very much aware of what's going on under her roof: she not only allows the Maw to continue being the way it is in spite of having the power to change things, but she actively engages in its despicable practices. She has petrified children in her quarters, as well as their ashes - of which the use is unclear - and then she is responsible for the Nome population and exploitation being so large and so eerily heavy. She's twisted necks, broken bones, murdered innocents.

The Shadow Children are, to me, one her greatest offenses. I don't think they serve any particular purpose other than... being there because she wanted to make them. Children ripped away from their life because of her whims. Not even in death can they rest because she can get her hands on their souls. They're nameless, forgotten shadows with blank masks: they're just like their creator, in that way. Ripped of all individuality and devoid of everything.

Everything she sees, the Lady devours. Not a creature is safe from her shadows and her wrath, especially if they come and actively intrude in her activities. She's twice as aggressive if the Maw is at stake.

The Lady's personal bedroom has another motif piece which I did not previously mention: the Maw wallpaper. While Roger and the Chefs have wallpapers that portray them with her, the Lady... does not. She only has the Maw. She's not part of that picture.

The Lady can't let the Maw change its ways. She is the Maw. The Maw must survive: so must she. To change the Maw would mean challenging herself enough to bring about a change; to her, who does nothing but lament what she lost, that would be too much effort. Too outside of the comfortable zone where she can survive in peace. Miserable, but unbothered.

... For the most part. Until Six comes around.

#the lady #carols.txt #ln meta #{dude i dont even know where i was going with this #if it seems like this post comes from a place of love it does #not at her as a person but like as a character. i find her so interesting and i feel oddly tender about her writing #usually when this happens its because i see pieces of the person i could have been in a character (like scaramouche for example)#but this time its from the completely opposite perspective #i am a person with a very clear idea of who i am. i know what my identity is and i am not afraid to express it #so witnessing a character with such a confused identity is both alien and fascinating to me #i wanted to focus more on her atrocities and how capitalism is what changes a person but its... 2 am and i am sick rn #i spent an hour literally vomiting my ramblings on this post #as a person and what she stands for i despise her. as a character i wish to put her in a security blanket and see how she gets out #this post feels terribly personal for some reason. like whatever . shes not even allat #im lying she literally IS allat #idk i love well written female characters who feel like people and dont fit in a specific convenctional box. sue me #< goes for six too #not opening *that* can of worms rn but. yeah}#little nightmares

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itstimetotheorize · 6 months

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The forgotten child

The Little Nightmares franchise is iconic and mysterious for many things, but nothing is more mysterious and iconic than the little yellow raincoat. While it may seem like a simple piece of clothing to some, we all inevitably come to find this single little yellow raincoat has a history of its own, and with the release of The Sounds of Nightmares podcast, its story is now deeper than ever before. I and many other theorists have covered the topic of the yellow raincoat in the past ( here), but with the release of the podcast, new information is finally brought to light.

Theorists have pondered the true origins of the yellow raincoat many times before, but no matter what was talked about, things would always narrow down to two simple questions time and time again... where did it come from?.... and who was its original owner?

Before the release of the podcast, only two living children were seen wearing the raincoat, the girl in the yellow raincoat from Very Little Nightmares and Six. Six encountered the girl in the yellow raincoat back at the Nest, but after the girl's demise, it was the raincoat which survived, drifting away along with the ocean current .

As for how it could have journeyed from the ocean to the deeper parts of the Pale City... well... your guess is as good as mine, but we always theorized the yellow raincoat was brought to the shores of the Pale City where it was discovered by someone else (child or Resident), then finally taken to the deeper parts of the Pale City where Mono and Six would discover it for themselves.

However, given Little Nightmares 2 is a prequel to Little Nightmares, there was still one more piece to the puzzle to be considered....the portrait aboard the Maw depicting a little girl wearing the yellow raincoat.

Many theories have surrounded the girl in the portrait, but based on what little we could gather at the time, I and many other theorists had theorized the girl in the portrait could potentially be the girl in the yellow raincoat from very Little Nightmares, whether or not she is still remains unknown, but regardless, we do know this, the Maw was the last known place the yellow raincoat was active within the world of the Nowhere, before the sounds of nightmares podcast finally revealed its original owner .

In chapter 6 of the sounds of nightmares, as Noone tells of her recent visit to the Nowhere, she recounts discovering the iconic yellow raincoat in a chest filled with other small clothing. As a result of Otto's reaction, it was now clear the raincoat's original owner was none other than Sisi, a girl from the Counties and Otto's big sister no less. We have long theorized the events of the Little Nightmares podcast could potentially take place before the events of the franchise, and yet despite finally concluding the origins of the yellow raincoat, new questions have now come forth....Who is Sisi? and how does she fit into the mystery of the yellow raincoat and the world of the Nowhere?

While some have theorized Sisi could be either Six or the girl in the yellow raincoat, it wasn't long before I and many other theorists realized something, something so simple we didn't think to consider it from the start. We know years ago, in the Counties, when Otto was just a boy, Sisi made the decision to accept the Ferryman's offer to stay in the Nowhere, because of this, everyone initially attempted to find a child in the Nowhere who could be Sisi...but perhaps it was never a child we were meant to look for...perhaps...it was always someone who lost themselves throughout the years in the Nowhere.

We have always theorized time within the Nowhere was abnormal, everywhere we looked, we could see the peculiar rhythm and details of the clocks within the world and how they ran through the passage of time in many different ways (more here). Leaving many children, like the teenagers Noone encountered in chp.4, to grow up in this world of nightmares just as they would have in the world they once called home...until they too would become one of the many Residents seen throughout the Nowhere....where am I going with this?...well, what if maybe...just maybe... Sisi faced the same fate.

No one knows what happened to Sisi in the Nowhere... and yet... given everything we have been provided...maybe we were always told what happened to her, through the one thing she was known to wear...the yellow raincoat. When Sisi permanently left the Counties for the Nowhere, her yellow raincoat went with her, and wherever the raincoat was last seen, a child would have had to been there along with it. Noone found the raincoat in the Sewing room she spoke of in chp 6....but there was no child in the room besides her. The raincoat was the only thing left in the chest among other clothing in need of repairs, almost as if… the raincoat was also in need of repairs. Perhaps it was no coincidence the yellow raincoat wound up in the sewing room, because maybe...just maybe...it was never abandoned in the sewing room, let alone discovered by someone else before it was left there…no… it was brought to the puppet to be repaired…by the very person who valued it before anyone else, Sisi. If what we theorized is true, then could this potentially mean the child Otto once knew Sisi to be...was no longer a child...but a woman walking amongst the Residents in the Nowhere?...maybe. But if Sisi is truly now a grown woman then...where is she?...maybe we always knew.

As stated before, The Maw was the last place we knew the raincoat was active in the world of the Nowhere, but could this mean Sisi was at some point within the Maw and left?…or was she always there. The girl in the portrait may have worn the yellow raincoat, but does this mean the girl in the portrait was Sisi?...or was the girl in the portrait simply the child who obtained the raincoat after Sisi outgrew it...where am I going with this? well...what if Sisi did board the Maw, but rather than escape it, she remained within it, not as a child...but as the Lady of the Maw we've all come to know in Little Nightmares.

We have always theorized many Residents within the Nowhere were once children themselves, and the "Lady" in particular was not necessarily a single person, but a title inherited through a vicious cycle of successors, where a new young girl would overthrow the former Lady of the Maw and obtain both the powers and title of "Lady" for themselves, until they too inevitably became corrupted and distorted by the world just as many Residents before. We have seen the Lady of Little Nightmares enough to theorize many things about her, but of all the things we have theorized, at some point, one can only look on at this strange woman living her silent and lonely life in the Maw, and realize she too was once a forgotten child of the world, as for who she was before all this, well... what if maybe...just maybe...she was always Sisi.

Not much is known about Sisi, let alone what her life was like, but never the less, she must have lived out a life of torment as these are the children the Ferryman is known to target to bring to the Nowhere(more here). If what we theorized about Sisi is true, and if she truly became the Lady of the Maw from Little Nightmares, then perhaps it was Sisi's desperation to find a place where she could finally get away from the chaos she lived through which inevitably left her trapped within the Maw, a structure which we have always theorized to be a living being of its own watching over the Lady, corrupting and pacifying her to never think about leaving, because without her, it would surely die... just like the Mall in the sounds of nightmares (more here). Of course, if the Residents taught us anything, its this...no life in the Nowhere is ever freed of torment, because this twisted world they reside in, thrives off it.

The Residents of the Nowhere are fueled by their corrupted desires/base instincts, and yet no matter how much they try, their desires can never be fulfilled, they are trapped in a constant state of need for something. Despite belonging within the Maw, and despite having lived a life where she could have everything she could ever want, the Lady was not happy with the life she lived, we have seen her look on aimlessly from a distance as the Guests arrived, we have seen her stroke her hair in her silent empty quarters, cry out over the hideous monster her reflection revealed her to be and we have seen her gently stroke the head of a baby doll as a lullaby played in the background. The Lady had everything she wanted...but not what she needed...something was always missing....or rather...someone.

Of the many portraits we have seen within the Maw, there was one portrait in particular which raised questions towards the Lady...the portrait of her standing next to a girl, the same girl we saw in another portrait wearing the yellow raincoat. We had always theorized the Lady of the Maw desired a child to stand by her side as she continued to live within the Maw, but this child was far from a daughter, she was a possession, another doll for the Lady to admire...and resent. If what we theorized about the Lady is true and if she is truly Otto's long lost Sisi, then perhaps it was the constant presence of her raincoat which hinted to her of the life she once had in the Counties with Otto, moving her to try and obtain what she no longer had...a family...even if she couldn't remember.

We have always theorized any memories the Residents had from their once human lives, were lost as the world of the Nowhere changed them, just like it did for the Sewer man in chp.5 of the sounds of nightmares, who had but a single little child's propeller hat, which we theorized once belonged to him when he was a child, but had now been tucked away, forgotten and ignored, as if it alone was the last link he had of his former life, but was now a constant reminder of both a reality he so desperately wanted to forget and a silent memory of the life he wanted to once again obtain above the sewers (more here). If the Lady had no memory of who she used to be, let alone of the life she once lived, then perhaps it was the yellow raincoat which brought back the simple desire to once again have someone by her side, leaving her willing enough to take a child for herself and not leave them in the cold prison where the rest were kept below the Maw.

However, even if the Lady decided to take a child for herself, would she have been willing to give the girl in the portrait her precious raincoat?...or did the girl find it? The Lady is not above hiding things within her quarters, so if the girl in the portrait did end up discovering the raincoat, then her actions alone would have been met with a great sense of punishment as the Lady saw her own reflection within another girl, reminding her of the person she used to be and the torment she once lived, the life she lost and the people she left behind. We've always theorized the Residents lived in a constant state of ignorance, avoiding and lashing out at any and all things which could bring their minds back to the true reality of their situation and their lives.

And so to see the Lady act the way she did when Six appeared wearing the same yellow raincoat which could have once belonged to her, and of which was later worn by the child who stood beside her in the portrait, a child who we theorized had one day abandoned her to escape, one can only imagine the sheer anger she felt to see the raincoat once again return within the hands of another child. The Lady never showed Six the mercy of turning her into a Nome like other children who faced her, no, she aimed to kill Six as she alone dared to appear within the Maw wearing a little yellow raincoat, a raincoat which never belonged to her, it belonged to someone else, the Lady herself.

If what we theorized is true, then the Lady's end would have been met with a great sense of irony as she witnessed a reflection of herself in another girl wearing her once beloved raincoat... walking towards her to end her and obtain the powers of the Lady for herself...just as she did many years ago to the former Lady of the Maw( theorized to be the Granny),

only this time...everything was different... because the child before her was different, as Six did the one thing she likely wished she could have done years ago, but no longer had the free will to do....leave the Maw.

No one knows what happened to Sisi, no one knows what her life was truly like in the Counties, no one knows what happened to her in the Nowhere, and no one knows what she thought about as she left her brother behind....the only thing which remained of her now, was the yellow raincoat she once wore, a simple piece of clothing with a long and complicated past. But regardless of who Sisi was, where she is and what became of her, one thing is certain...this raincoat is far more meaningful than what was originally believed, almost as if this single little yellow raincoat...was the start of something...something big...but now...it has also become the end of it all, the end of what exactly? well...I guess we will just have to wait and see...for now, it's all just a theory...a Little Nightmares theory.

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monstersandmaw · 5 months

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Whuff, folks, this is a really really long one!! I hope you enjoy it - it kicked my butt and had to be re-written after I got 3k words in and got bogged down with backstory.

(For reference, if this were a commission, at 12k words it'd be £120. You can read it now for $5/£4.50! You can also read all my back catalogue of Patreon stories too when you sign up. Browse my masterlist for free though here.)

Orcs came out pretty high on the 'favourite monsters' poll over on Patreon, so I went with two, and a satyr because I like sassy satyrs...

Content: arranged marriage, strained parental relationship for the reader, gender and body neutral reader, childhood friends to lovers, some light D/s play, culturally accepted polyamory, consensual polyamory, penetrative sex, oral sex, a plug, and a lot of fluff because it's me. Wordcount: 12k (!)

Final note: a 'scop' is the Old English/Anglo-Saxon word for a bard. I gave the reader's people Rohirrim/Anglo-Saxon vibes for this.

“You’re giving me deja-vu summoning me over to you like that, mother,” you said with a wry drawl in your voice as you sauntered over to one of the two wooden thrones at the far end of the longhouse at her request, and warily eyed the sheaf of paper held casually between her first two fingers. “Last time you looked at me like that, I was twelve and I ended up fostered with the Mountain Clan for six years. Where are you planning on sending me this time?”

You'd meant it for a joke, but the look in her eyes immediately kindled a churning worry in the pit of your stomach when you spotted it, and your expression fell.

“Mother?”

“It wasn’t so bad in the end, was it?” she said archly, one eyebrow rising. “You still write to the warchief’s son on a monthly basis like a lovesick minstrel, though I’m honestly surprised those beasts can fathom out the alphabet.”

Actually, most orcs knew two alphabets: the Trade Tongue, and their own runic language.

This barbed back-and-forth with the Lady of the Hold was nothing new for you though as her often-overlooked, middle child of three, and you took it in your stride, though the insult to Vorstag’s people cut deep. In your time fostering with them, you’d come to love the orcs for their passion and overt love of life — to love one in particular — but no matter how fondly you talked of your time with them, your own people didn’t seem able to get past the orcs’ belligerent reputation or the myriad stereotypes perpetuated about them in the cities, where there were far fewer of them.

Ignoring your mother’s comment about your continuing contact with your adoptive clan, you came to a halt in front of her and stood there, one hip cocked to the side, idly tapping your wooden flute against your thigh. You’d been practising in one of the shadowy corners of the longhouse until she’d called you over to join her. Her eyes flickered to it momentarily before returning to your face, and she sighed.

The Lady of the Hold was an intimidating woman and it was hard to affect calm in front of her, even with your stage-training as a musician and a scop from Widsith before you’d left to live with the orcs. Now, regarding you from her throne, your mother wore clothes of rich silk and fine wool befitting a queen, with thick fur trimmings around her neck, and her ears and throat and hands dripped with glinting gold jewellery bought and paid for by the fine war horses your people bred and raised for the royal stables and noble houses. Even if her attire hadn’t matched that of a queen, her hard glare would have made any monarch quaver. Many people whispered that while the jarl and his wife technically ruled together, it was your mother who truly governed the territory.

She certainly still governed your life well into adulthood.

“I have here a proposal from the Plains Clan…” she said, indicating the paper held at arm’s length between her first two fingers, like it was a spell that might go off any second.

“Oh?” You tried to look casual, but something about it made you uneasy. Her answer to the Plains Clan’s proposal would concern you in some way, you had no doubt. Not least because you spoke orcish like one born into an orcish clan, and you had connections to the Mountain Clan, who were on good terms with their plains neighbours.

Just the thought of those connections made your heart ache: memories of the orc who had made your teenage years in the mountains a dream instead of the nightmare it might have been; who had grown into adulthood with you in lockstep to become your best friend; who had given you your first, exhilarating ride on a warg; who had shared your first kiss at the Winter’s Heart feast, and more besides when you were both older.

“Mn,” she hummed, standing regally and pacing back and forth on the wooden dais in the way she did when she had a problem that was yet unresolved. That did nothing to settle you, but you waited her out. “They have proposed something which I never thought they would to a human: marriage.”

“To you?” you blurted in surprise. “But they know humans don’t mate with more than one other — not formally, at least,” you amended since you knew of at least three people in the settlement who were very happily in a relationship with each other, though they weren’t married in the eyes of the Faith. Not that the Faith had much reach out here, so far from its seat in the royal capital.

“No, not to me, you fool,” she scoffed, irritated at your assumption and, no doubt, at your casual use of the orcish term ‘mate’ instead of marriage. “To one of my children, and since you are the only one unmarried and unpromised, it will have to be you.”

“Married? Me?”

Read the whole thing right now on Patreon for just $5!

Browse my Patreon masterlist for free and see what takes your fancy, and remember you can join our chill Discord server too.

#poly #patreon exclusive #orc x orc x satyr x human #orc x human #satyr x human

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