#i can't believe Cicero is fucking dead
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max's top books of 2023 :3c
as usual, these rankings are based on some arcane mix of objective quality + my personal enjoyment (previous year's lists)
it was another weird reading year! i did a lot of reading for school, more so than in the past; some of it was really good and some of it was, uh. well, some of it was william wordsworth. nothing i absolutely loathed, though (most of the reads i disliked were books i could at least appreciate on an art/history level), which is cool. so i'm bringing back the runner-up category. did not make it onto my top ten list but were really good anyway: beartown by fredrik backman (books that no joke made me understand why people are insane about sports) and the GORGEOUS re-release of my dear @yvesdot 's debut, something's not right, which i have read before but will always gladly revisit again.
my top anticipated release for 2024 is alecto the ninth again.
(but shoutout also to just happy to be here, king cheer, and henry henry. trans people! shakespeare, even!)
and the list! in increasing order of enjoyment, with pictures this year!
10. The Common Liar by Janet Adelman
no, i can't believe i'm doing this either. i can't believe i did all that preamble and the first book on my list is an academic thesis analyzing shakespeare's antony and cleopatra. but also? it's the only book anyone ever needs to write about shakespeare's antony and cleopatra. janet adelman said it all. which is cool, because i have a fixation on that play, but also sucks, because i was also trying to write an essay on it and mine wasn't nearly as good. btw if anyone wants to buy this for me, somehow, for the $120 it costs on amazon because academia is awful, i will send you my address,
9. Robert Icke's Oresteia
i don't need to say anything about this play, because it's the source of "this was always going to happen. she's been dead since the beginning." that should be enough. but after becoming deranged about the oresteia last year, i finally read this, and holy shit, this adaptation of the story is so fucking genius and icke's writing is so fucking good. it's antiwar! it's about mental illness! there's gender! the fucking ENDING! (i have a pdf if anyone would like it. anything to plug this play bark bark bark rufrufruf grrrrrr)
8. Down Girl: the Logic of Misogyny by Kate Manne
this is a little bit cheating, because i haven't finished this book yet, so maybe in the final chapters manne will say something like "what if we blew up every orphan" and i'll have to retract this. but right now it's fucking excellent! i've been making an effort to read more nonfiction lately, and this one shines; manne sets out to analyze misogyny not as a personal hatred of women that some men harbor, but as an intricate and structural system forcing women into the role of Giving (attention, affection, power, etc; sometimes their lives). and it's sooooo smart. some of it is stuff i already know (and some of it is Academic Philosophy TM that goes right over my head), but manne articulates her point excellently and i can feel it rearranging my brain, so it's going on the list for longevity and skill!
7. Dictator by Robert Harris
does this book objectively deserve to be on this list? you know what, yeah. i'll say it with my whole chest. i don't like how harris writes women and there are plenty of things to pick at in his cicero trilogy, but i had so much goddamn fun reading it that i can't not put it on the list. this was my year of being really really into cicero, and this was fun to read alongside e-pistulae. harris is sooooo good at making ancient roman politics gripping. the last scenes of this book. augh. ack. ough!
6. Detransition Baby by Torrey Peters
there are a lot of valid critiques of this one (a lot of bad critiqus, too, but such is writing literally anything about transness), but i fucking adored it. i LOVE dual timelines, i LOVE unlikable characters, and i FUCKING LOVE TRANSSEXUALITY! moreover, i love that peters isn't afraid to Go There, to poke at the messy ugly sides of transness (and queerness in general) that i think a lot of us don't like acknowledging, especially to cishet people whose view of the community is already skewed. i don’t think this is the One Great Trans Novel; i think there are a lot of great trans novels, and we need more. but this one did hit me RIGHT in the chest, and i couldn't put it down.
5. Wrath Goddess Sing by Maya Deane
the iliad but achilles is a trans woman and she's fighting the war on both mortal and divine levels and she and helen have an insane homoerotic half-god rivalry and everybody is fucking crazy. pitched as "for fans of TSOA" but as i said in my review if TSOA is a pleasant but watery iced tea then this book is gasoline laced with crack. there is a bisexual transgender threesome. i fucking love women. book of the fucking summer
4. White Teeth by Zadie Smith
i probably enjoyed wrath goddess sing more, but i can't not rank this book highly on this list. this book is such a fucking masterpiece. it's tolstoy for the modern age. it's a sprawling multi-familial multi-cultural multi-generational epic about race and gender and religion and science and humanity and britishness. smith's prose is fucking amazing; her character work is even better; this book has no plot but it uses its length sooooooo well. the first zadie smith i've read, but by god there will be more. she wrote this at TWENTY-FIVE. that's fucking CRAZY. do you know how much control over your craft you have to have to write this at twenty-five. bonkers. it is also the only enjoyable book i read in my modern literature class, so shoutout to white teeth for keeping me sane,
3. The Secret to Superhuman Strength by Alison Bechdel
this book is ostensibly about bechdel's relationship with exercise. it is actually about bechdel's relationship with her own body, her own soul, her desire for individualism in the style of the transcendentalists, transcendentalism in general, mortality, and aging. i can't really tell you more than that because i didn't actually "read" this so much as i absorbed it through my skin like a frog while trying not to tremble like a little purse dog. i am not gonna lie man i did not have a very good. um. august. or september. or october november december. so this book really could not have come at a better time. alison bechdel i am obsessed with you
2. The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For by Alison Bechdel
ALISON BECHDEL I AM OBSESSED WITH YOU!!!! this one narrowly edges out secret to superhuman strength because... well, i'm sort of rating the entire comic strip's run, and dude. holy shit. i love lesbians so much. this strip is such an important piece of lesbian history; it reminded me that a lot of the things lesbians (and LGBT people in general) argue about and deal with today are... the same things we've always argued about and dealt with, from intracommunity label discourse to global politics to hitting on women badly. but history aside--it's also just really fucking good! it's really funny! if you are a neurotic leftist, as so many of us are, it's hysterical! it's smart! it's hot! it's heartwarming! i read it over the first half of the year, in little bits and pieces, and by the end i felt like i really had gone decades with these characters. really just. so good. the power she has the range she has
1. the suzanne collins reread
okay. this one is definitely cheating. because i usually like to keep this list to books i'm reading for the first time, and i HAVE read the hunger games and the underland chronicles. but i read them, like, almost ten years ago, and i was not prepared to be so thoroughly fucking bodied by them this time around, now that i have critical thinking and analysis skills. we all know the hunger games is a fucking banger, so let me pitch the gregor the overlander series: something of a modern alice in wonderland setup, where the eleven-year-old main character falls into an underground world full of strangeness, except this world isn't whimsical, it's dangerous and stuffed with giant talking animals like bats and rats and cockroaches. there's a war on. there are plagues. there are war crimes. there is a plotline that is extremely explicitly about ethnic cleansing. there is some of the most heartbreaking fucking shit you've ever read in your goddamn life. there is also a rat who quotes macbeth and the underlanders revere a guy named bartholomew of sandwich. this series is for middle schoolers. i cried. not when i was a middle schooler reading it the first time; i mean now. so i'm breaking my no-rereads rule, because it really would be a lie to say that my best reading experience wasn't revisiting all of collins' work with my friends (yes, i read TBSOS; i think it's fine but not great). sorry to give publicity to an author who definitely doesn't need my help, but a few years ago my #1 spot went to shakespeare, so.
if you've read this far: thank you! please tell me your thoughts! tell me your favorite books of 2023! tell me which books you're excited for in 2024! and have a very lovely new year :)
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so can i ask a personal question? what is it about cicero skyrim that you enjoy so much? personally ive never payed him much mind, but im curious what makes folks like him so much- i wanna try and see the appeal, yknow?
I can try and explain why /I/ like him, I can't really speak for anyone else.
My experience with Skyrim and the Elder Scrolls has always been largely underwhelming. I'm a Fallout fan. And despite what many might believe about them being more or less the same, I've always found that there are much richer characters in the Fallout universe. Especially with the followers/companions in New Vegas and 4.
The Followers in Skyrim are flat, bland or straight up boring. There are SOME stand outs (Off the top of my head, I think Eola is neat because none of the other Daedric Prince quests give you a follower, let alone a cannibal; I like Farkas being just a big dumb himbo but he's not my type).
For the most part the characters I liked the best in Skyrim happen to either be attached to the Theives Guild (Brynjolf, Delvin, Vex, Karliah, Maven) or they're in the Dark Brotherhood (Festus, Babette, Gabriella and Nazir). They feel fleshed out, they have motivations and identities...but even then they can fall a little flat.
And then there's Cicero.
I know his voice can be a little grating but it's so UNIQUE. Of all the characters in the whole of the game, you hear his voice and you know exactly who's talking. That alone makes him worthy of my time. Then there's the fit- the Dark Brotherhood already sticks out like a sore thumb but then this little nasty jester comes jingle jangling down the road at you, busting a move and I'm like "ok, I'm paying extra attention now."
His BACKSTORY. It's heartbreaking! He's the last of a long long line of an assassin's guild that fell apart due to politics above ground and below. His family fell apart, the only life he ever knew gone. He was stripped of his job to kill people so he could tend an ancient corpse. Alone. And all he had for company was the voice of his last contract, a Jester, who laughed as he died. That's so fucking much.
He's a FANTASTIC character. It's like Bethesda poured all their storytelling skill into this one manic little guy.
...Oh unless you're asking why I sexualize the jester?
In that case- I'm really into manic, scrawny, malevolent big hams. See also Cletus Kasady, Drop Dead Fred, Pyro, Junkrat...
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you and me and the devil makes three.
Pairings: Dean Winchester x reader, Demon!Dean Winchester x reader, past Lisa x Dean
Summary: Dean is a demon, he will take whatever he wants.
A/N: This got darker than I expected. I wanna make it clear I don't condone or engage with Dean's acts on this. This is my submission for @jawritter 's Make Me Cry Challenge. Congrats, honey! Hope you like it. Dividers by talesmanic and gif credit here
Prompt: I guess I should have been more like her.
Warnings: non consensual kissing, language, UNHEALTHY BEHAVIOR, non con (kissing and touching but no sex), dirty talk
Dean Winchester was a dreamer.
In the rawest way of the word, the meaning in the dust-collecting dictionaries and not the idealistic form. His eyelids shut close and, just like magic, Dean’s head was as haunted as the home he swore he’d never come back to in Kansas. The ghosts of the past, not ever so very friendly, coming to greet him at least three times per week. Sometimes they were happy films he could never starre in real life, his mom singing or a picnic with a lover saying that they needed to hurry up to get their kid at the baseball. The nightmares were sleepy visions of flesh and blood, mostly about his time underneath, Sam hurting, or his father spilling out his worst fears at his face.
Maybe it was how the eldest Winchester’s brain compensated for the lack of bedtime tales and docile affairs growing up. The own way that his brittle soul discovered and molded not to let him collapse, or to always keep him on red alert.
Good and bad deals are mostly a matter of which side you are betting your money on, really.
Because yeah, Dean did wake up feeling like he had shut his forest eyes briefly for twenty minutes instead of hours when he dreamed, but he also had never spent so long trapped in a better place. The green eyed hunter didn’t know which one was worse: the good dreams or the horrific ones. After all, he had went through all the atrocity and made it out alive, but the engulfed craving for light-hearted scenarios was suffocating. The hunter could never have it all. Trust him, he tried. Then, which is more agonizing: to have everything you ever wanted for a couple hours and have every scrap of it taken from you, or to undergo the calamity that accompanied your breaking point?
Dean didn’t know, he didn’t even know what to tell Sam when he wondered what his brother had dreamt about to wake up sweating and screaming, all the light and stupid apple pie desires and the sharp brutality crawling out of the back of his mind. He made a joke, Megan Fox really liked knives, man. He kept it in, shoved down a good amount of alcohol, and mocked the worry of doing the lawn. Ready for another day.
But now he was a demon, and apparently whatever he was made of - sulfur, cruelty, and black eyes under garden ones - wasn't worthy quiet reliefs in the middle of the night, or even frightening figments of memory. He became his worst dreams and all the dreams slipped beyond his reaches because of that. Demons, those unholy creatures, didn’t get the human peculiarities. You know what? Fine by him.
Who needed dreams when you don't need sleep, anyway? Even better: who needed dreams when you don't care about what you gotta do to put your greedy hands on the prize you had been eyeing for years?
Dean Winchester was finally free. Free for the first time since he was a four years little boy who watched his mother burning with a terrorized expression, ironically mimicking the one Mary wore on the ceiling. His dad’s shouting for him to grab Sammy and run, take your little brother and run, echoing through years and years. There was never time for Dean, for his grief or his questions or whatever the child frozen in time under his rib cage could come up with. They said, stupid psychologists with their fancy degrees and malicious bartenders with a unfriendly grun under the counter who learned a little too much, everybody said that when someone was so traumatized as a kid, that person would tend to get frozen at that age. Therefore, how tremendously alleviating was to kill any reminiscing emotion of the whiny child he used to be.
The kind of freedom that no traveler longed for; when one’s ruined and damaged enough not to care, and just take and take and take like hunger itself. Dean was an evil thing now, what else could he do but act on the figments of the worst intentions?
And feel so fucking good when doing that.
‘’Where do you think he's going?’’ Your eyes raked over the street, darting between the asphalt under Baby’s wheels and Sam’s weary features.
‘’I don't know.’’ He sighed, attempting to organize his thoughts. Even as a demon, his brother wouldn’t just run miles and miles away by himself for no apparent reason. There had to be something you and Sam were missing out, some unseen clue or a hidden meaning. ‘’What the localizator says?’’
At least you had managed to put a tracker in his boots during your last encounter. Whatever Dean was thinking of starting there, you and Sam wouldn’t let him.
‘’Still Cicero, Indiana.’’ You sighed. Sammy furrowed his eyebrows, a long forgotten memory rising. ‘’What?’’
‘’We had a case there once years ago.’’ He explained, opting not to elaborate. Your and Dean’s relationship was troubled enough with his new self. Sam didn’t want to blow it up completely. His brother would need you once he came back to himself. The look on your face, though, reported how you weren’t buying his cheap excuses. The long haired hunter sighed. ‘’Did Dean ever tell you about that?’’
‘’No.’’
He stepped on the accelerator.
To find the woman was excruciatingly easy. The freckled demon couldn't believe he opened his computer many times and gave up before today. He glanced through the glass window and there she was, standing in all her glory with a body that seemed to forget how to grow old. Her tan skin still glowing, as appetizing as ever. Brown eyes shining so bright, tiny hands that always seemed to know where he wanted to be touched. She was laughing like there was no tomorrow, holding a glass of wine with one hand and her cellphone with the other, while her dark hair was falling so perfectly over her shoulder, like waves against the rocks in the sea.
Dean can’t wait to smell her again, to taste her, to prove her. His fingers were tingling, begging to touch what was his as he hopped off the car, walking towards the porch. He had been gone for a long time, but now he was back.
He will destroy that quintessential, sequin woman so good.
The Winchester buckled in front of the white door, graced with the sound of the female giggle. Thin walls, he thought, those will be useful to make sure the neighbors know who’s back home. Her steps on the wood floor growing closer and closer as he heard a goodbye, probably aimed at whoever she was on the phone with. It was almost like the caramel skinned woman knew that whoever was on her doorstep wasn’t gonna be a hustled visitor. Or so the demon’s arranged mind said.
‘’Hey, Lis.’’ Dean’s voice lacked any cherishment as she opened the door, who would know that the absence of a soul wouldn't be gelid, just dry? As for her, Lisa’s face was drained of love. For all she was aware of, he was a stranger who knew her name. The male let out a chuckle empty of joy. She really didn’t remember, huh? ‘’Whoa. Cass really fucked up your head, huh? At least he did one thing right.’’
‘’Excuse me?’’ The man with dirty blonde hair and perfect teeth smelled like alcohol. She wasn’t having any of this tonight. ‘’Listen, I don’t know who you are and--’’
‘’Don’t worry.’’ He tranquilized her, although the lopsided grin on his lips held anything but good intentions. ‘’I’ll make you remember. I have a spell. You won’t believe how much you missed me.’’
The mocking laugh that left her lips utterly aggravated him. ‘’I don’t know you. Please leave or I’ll call the police.’’
Dean didn’t need a crowd for that part, a bratty woman in need of a firm hand should get a particular lesson.
‘’You always liked a little cat and mouse.’’
Speaking of, the demon pushed the door wide open without any effort. Lisa jumped at the sudden move, every instinct inside her deciding that man was a threat and not some harmless wasted guy. Her body was quickly erect, thinking about ways to run and get help, but Dean swiftly pushed her to him and kicked the door closed-- her small figure collided to his chest.
Human savagery was cut in urban ways, molded to civilize the animalistic instincts. Imagine meat. A dead animal on a silver plate, and we couldn’t wait to chew every inch of it. We couldn’t wait to eat it, put that dead thing inside us and hope it’ll be enough to control the predatory hungry. Humans will always be animals, but so will be their rests that constructed the demons.
Dean may not be a hunter anymore, but he’s still a predator who can't wait to taste his prey. He could small it, the fear in Lisa’s sweat making his mouth water. How much she tried to fight against him and scream other names when his was the only one he wanted her to need tonight. The resistance of a poor human barely made the monster shiver.
He closed his hands around her arms, throwing her against the wall like someone tossed an old toy away. There was no space for delicaly. In that moment, Dean Winchester was a tiger, a lion, the big bad wolf attacking the omega. Lis winced, her back hurting as her fibers. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that man was about to do something so terrible and disgusting to her in her own house, the place she was supposed to feel warm and safe. Why did he seem to know her? Why did he say she was gonna remember? Was he crazy, hallucinating, or drugged? Why was he so satisfied with how frightened her tiny body looked? How could she use all that information to somehow push him away?
‘’Let me go!’’ She demanded, her legs kicking the demon with ferocity. ‘’What’s wrong with you? LET ME GO NOW!’’
The brunette’s skilled body moved itself desperately, and the act of resistance only brought a hysterical laugh out of Dean. The wrong kind of goosebumps washed her skin, she had to run away for her life. This man was mad.
‘’FIRE! FIRE!’’ Lisa started to scream. Well-aware that people were most likely to come around and help a woman screaming if she said fire. ‘’THERE’S A FIRE. SOMEONE HELP ME!’’
One of his hands went to her neck, wrapping his fingers around it to shut her up. That was rubbing him off the wrong way. Lisa Braeden used to beg for his touch, how dared her not to want him anymore? Now that he was better, stronger, and thicker.
The brown eyed girl went quiet, probably scared by his brutal behavior. Dean smiled, a blood stained grin that carried mischief and pervertment. He licked the tears savoring the salty horror coming from her. Just like the day he was a vampire who almost gave in to drinking every drop of her luptuos blood. She may not remember but he did and he couldn't wait to get inside her, those tight walls squeezing his hard cock.
‘’You’re gonna do as I say, Lis. And I won't hurt you… Much.’’ He risped, crooked nose stroking her wet cheek. She whined. ‘’Don’t worry, honey. You loved it. Bet you’ll scream so much once I fuck you good.’’
‘’Please, don’t do it.’’ She begged as he coaxed his body against his. That man was stronger than her, she had no other choice but to plead to his human side. If only she knew.
‘’Begging already?’’ Dean lifted his head, smirking at her. Lisa just wanted to cry and close her eyes until everything was done. How could someone do that? ‘’I told you, don’t worry. I’m gonna make a lil’ spell that will give your memories back and you’ll remember everything. And then we’re gonna have so much fun, Lis.’’
His last murmur was finished with a kiss. A harsh, ruthless kiss. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she could call it a kiss; teeth against each other, his vicious mouth pressed to her weakened lips, his tongue invading her like a robber and showing an unrequited dominance.
‘’Dean!’’ Your voice resonated stridently, louder than the door Sam had stormed open. You couldn’t believe what your eyes witnessed. ‘’Stop it!’’
Dean groaned, as if you and Sam were stepping on his territory. He simply turned his head to you two, not pulling away from Lisa. You couldn’t see her face, your boyfriend’s large shoulder and tall body covering her up. His eyes were still green, which set the scene in an even more atrocious light.
Your thoughts were racing. How could he come to her, crave her so badly that he drove away miles and miles as a demon? He was supposed not to feel a thing. You prepared yourself for a cold man, not an obsessive one. Apparently, a heart hidden under the black smoke. Choose if it's a gift or Pandora's box. Sam told you their history. Of course he would want that and not you. Dean never left Lisa because he fell out of love for her, he was ripped out from her life. You were so pissed at yourself; how could you picture playing the woman in his veins? How stupid were you? He may be a demon guided by wants and not emotions, but what was love but an amount of outrageous desires laced up with some pretty words and flavored with dependency?
‘’Y/N and Sammy--’’
Love was the wrong word here. Anyway. Go head and unwrap it.
‘’Please help me!’’ Lisa’s voice came to life once more through her quiet cry. Dean hardened the hold around her throat, making her cough a little.
Suddenly, your body is frozen. That, whatever that is, whatever he’s doing to Lisa. It wasn’t love. She didn’t want it. When his frame moved to face you and Sam, you caught a glimpse of her face. She was petrified, her delicate features contorted in wrath and fear and beg for help.
‘’Quiet.’’ Dean howled, glancing at her rapidly before his eyes fell on you and Sam again. ‘’You two are such killjoys. I told you to let me go.’’
You couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. You wanted to puke your guts out.
‘’And what? Kill your ex? Or do something even worse to her?’’ You elicited with disgust.
‘’She’ll come around eventually. Just playing hard to get. You know how frisky women are.’’ The corner of his lips curved into a barbaric grim, one of his hands touching Lisa’s cheek. The victim winced at the touch. ‘’Besides, I’m not just gonna take her. I’ll make her remember and she’ll want me.’’ He shrugged, unbothered by the horrified looks of everyone in the room. ‘’Are you really worried about Lis, Y/N? Or are you just jealous that I didn’t go for you?’’
‘’Enough, Dean.’’ Sam groaned, holding the gun up. It felt oily. ‘’Let her go. And come with us.’’
The demon tossed the brunette away with a simple sleight of hand, pulling his sleeves up with a marred beam. His eyes switched from starry green to black, showing his true facette. It was a peculiar relief. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t Dean.
Yet, Dean’s gruff voice said in a twisted playful tone:
‘’Come get me, Sammy.’’
Dean Winchester was cured. For most people, to heal is to let go or to learn with things. In the doctor’s case, healing is leaving a bruise to cover up a wound. Everyone believed the war started and ended, and that was it. But when something so ravaging is gone, you gotta deal with the trauma.
He was a trauma. Cured from a sickness, drowning in sorrow and waves of woe. All the worst things Dean ever did, he knew now, weren’t to himself or to the monster he so proudly killed. His unspoken acts were against the people he cared about.
The hunter never thought his hands, his bruised and tough hands could ever hurt Lis. The woman who was his lifeline when Sam died, who allowed him to be a father and live in his dreamland of suburban life. All she ever did was to love him, and what did she get for it?
He was disgusted with himself. What almost did to her was enough to hunt him and make him sure he was going back to hell, very deserving this time. Threating to do that to a woman, and enjoy it… Dean couldn’t bear driving into memories. He was selfishly glad he didn’t remember about that, only Sam’s explanation was enough: he went to Lisa, he kissed her without her consent, and Sam and you stopped him going any further. Would his unscrupulous, demon self go ahead? He was too scared to wonder, even though his brother said that he apparently had a spell to make Lis remember and wasn’t planning on just taking her. A forced kiss was disgusting enough. He just wished Sam had put a bullet in his black eyes right there.
You walked in the bathroom that you once shared with the eldest Winchester
She was everything he ever wanted, all the suburban dreams and acceptance of hunter reality without being in it. Lisa loved him completely and you could only love him sideways-- you never wanted to be a mom, or to have a family or live in a suburb. Those were valid goals, just not yours. You thought you and Dean were on the same page about it, but this other side, not only the pervert demon but the domestic man, hadn’t been shown to you until a couple days ago. Sam had cured his brother, his dirty nature washed away with holy water, but you couldn’t help the bruises that came from the dog days. Lisa had her memory erased by Cass again, you didn’t have the same unfair luxury.
‘’Dean.’’ You said, making him look up at you. Bags under his eyes and wrinkles more evident than ever. ‘’We need to talk.’’
He sighed and wiped his face. ‘’Y/N, I don’t want to talk right now.’’
‘’You never do.’’ You scoffed, gaining an incredulous glance from him. ‘’I know that what happened was disgusting and sick and the worst thing you could ever do, but we need to talk.’’
He took a deep breath. ‘’What do you wanna talk about?’’
‘’You went to her.’’ You stated as a lawyer in front of a jury. Dean furrowed.
‘’What?’’
‘’Lisa. You went to her.’’ When the arrow hit someone so damaged, it was like an animal with his teeth there that wouldn't let go. Yeah, his human soul wasn't the same brittle glass as before but it lingered in his demon self in the shape of delusion, and it was distorted by whatever he was made of, violence and darkness, and turned into something disgusting. ‘’You love her.’’
‘’Love?’’ The word burned his tongue, Dean didn’t think he had the right to ever use it again. ‘’I was a demon, Y/N. I didn’t love or feel anything. What I did--’’
‘’You didn’t do anything.’’ You interrupted, loyal as a soldier.
‘’I forced a kiss on her and wanted to bring her memories back to have sex with her. That’s disgusting and I did half of that.’’ He pointed out aggitadly, plump lips moving fast and voice deeper. ‘’It wasn’t love. Leaving her years back was love.’’
You didn’t miss how Dean didn’t even dare to say her name. ‘’So you don’t think about her? Not even once?’’
He scoffed humourless. ‘’Are you kidding me?’’
‘’I guess I should have been more like her.’’ You hugged yourself, glancing at the wall. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Not again, not for another woman. That wasn’t even your cicatrix to ache.
‘’Y/N, what the fuck are you talking about?’’ The fully green eyed man raised to his feet, glancing at you with disbelief. He couldn’t face how messed up it was. ‘’I can’t believe you are jealous of what happened. I thought I was the broken one here.’’
‘’I’m not her.’’ You two shared it, the glance that only two women who were hurt by the same man could. You both understood that when he got inside you, it was like the syringe in an eutanasia. Once you were happy because you loved him, now you were scared and not so sure this was what you wanted. ‘’I’m not her and you knew it. When you became just instincts and selfish and did whatever you wanted, you didn’t come to me. You came to her.’’
‘’I hurt her.’’
The next words fly out of your mouth, as weak and totaled as you felt: ‘’Why didn’t you hurt me?’’
‘’This is the most unhealthy shit we ever went through.’’ Dean’s right. You have her expression mesmerized on your brain. Dean was the man on top of her, teaching her how to hate. How to fear. You can’t trust yourself. ‘’I can’t believe you.’’
‘’Neither can I.’’ You were so sick. How ravaged and annihilated one had to be to wish to be a demon's object of obsession? To get jealous that another woman almost died in the arms of a beast that cried his blood out once he came back to being a man and saw what he had done? ‘’I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I was there and I saw how scared of you she was, how all she wanted was to push you away and run because she was so disgusted--’’
‘’Stop.’’ He groaned, but it came out more like a whine than anything. ‘’It wasn’t me. I would never hurt Lis. I would never force her to do anything! I--’’
You gave him a sad smile. ‘’You love her.’’
‘’I love you.’’ Dean approached you, fumbling in despair to fix yet another thing his hands destroyed. If Rome was built in ruins, he was a kingdom. You pulled away before his tough hands landed on you.
‘’But you love her too.’’ The hunter stopped on his spot, unable to answer. ‘’I ruined myself for you, Dean. I can’t-- I won’t do that again. You are right. This is unhealthy. The fact that you’ve been pining for her for so long, pushing down those feelings to the point they are twisted into something so cruel and disgusting. You need help.’’ What kind of ugly you have to have inside you for a monster to love you? And, even worse, what kind of sickness you have trapped, written in your blood to want it to be spilled out in his name? ‘’You really are venom. If this is how you love, it’s scary as fuck.’’ When you loved a broken man, you were never sure if his shattered pieces would glisten or cut your hand once the light came in. Here’s your answer. His parts crawled inside you through pulled up scars, scraping your insides to make into ruins, but you never liked Rome much. You had to be better than that. ‘’Goodbye, Dean.’’
He couldn’t bring himself to go after your steps.
Once again, it’s the kind of freedom no traveler wants. When you lost it all and didn't have any person or place to cling to, when you had to leave because you were becoming the girl you swore you’d never leave, when you walked away willingly without a map.
Still, it was all you had. You’d make a good use of it. You’d be okay. No more ugly emotions or sentiments that made you unrecognizable. No more knives that cut both ways, or situations so complicated you weren’t sure where your morals could rely on.
You’d be okay, healthy, and happy.
You’d be okay.
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omg i can't believe i did the exact same thing with the Cicero trilogy. like, read it immediately twice in a row. that's what that ending does to you
RIGHT?! right. It's the "Oh no, this can't be it, this can't be it, you were so close ... there is so much more to do, there's something to brave still, like you braved everything else. This can't be it."
God, what also really gets me when they try to get away is how they want to go to Sicily, but I think one of Cicero's (political) friends or at least acquaintances tells them they can't set foot there. And Cicero bears it all with dignity, but already, in a way, dead inside.
Harris is just really good at humanizing Cicero, for better or for worse. Like, whenever we get to the part in Titan/Lustrum where Cicero does nothing but blow his ego up after the Catiline conspiracy ... I gotta put the book down, because that secondhand embarassment is killing me. Like no Marcus, don't send Pompeius fifty meters of scroll on how YOU are the hero of the republic despite not being a military man. FOR FUCK'S SAKE, DON'T TAKE CRASSUS' BAIT AND DO IT IN FRONT OF HIS FACE!!!!!!
The other part that's hard to read is of course when Quintus rightfully chews him out. It hurts so much, mostly because I am on Quintus' side. He's probably the biggest part in humanizing Cicero via his flaws.
Uh. Yeah. Anyways. Cicero Trilogy good.
Also, maybe I like the Verres trial so much because it is about helping Sicilians - I mean, it ain't, it's about taking Verres'/Hortensius' political status for oneself. But there's Sicilians and they're being defended and yay, trip to Siracusa!
#beareplies#cuppateadeer#also henrike i will get to your other very kind ask once the weather gets better#and I don't just wanna spend the day lying facedown in the dirt#the trilogy are my favourite books because I relate to Cicero so much#the implications of which are. well. I'm a basic bitch.#also they're funny and exciting and FULL of political intrigue#the third reread was what made me actually write my Res Publica AU#I fucking LOVE politicking. It's the aspect I enjoy maybe the most of my LFLS world.#it's why I am the odd one out and love the second act of Hamilton more than the first. THE POLITICKING!!!!
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010. Heady [FFXIVwrite2021]
His voice comes over the Linkpearl unexpectedly.
"A-Aquila......Father is here...I don't know what to do; he's standing right outside Calcifer.....what do I do?" He says in a slightly panicked tone.
"You stay the fuck in the lab and let me deal with him," she replies immediately.
She's given a timid reply, "Ok...."
"Once some ground rules are out, I'll let you know," she explains to him. "But he gets to find out all the ways he will die if he messes with you."
His voice pitches upward a little as he asks, "A-are you bringing Leth? Rolno? Locke? any kind of backup?"
"Locke's still recovering, Rolno's about to get laid, and Leth got shanked earlier," she explains calmly. "Besides, I don't NEED back up now, thanks to Merrick."
Sounding more than just a little concerned, he murmurs, "Alright..."
Their father takes a sip from the cup in front of him as she arrives. Upon seeing him, she draws her blade, assuming the same stance that the former Blade who owned it used.
"...what are you doing here?" she asks coldly.
The man, without looking up, speaks - his cold, nearly monotone, and emotionless voice carries over the wind.
"Is that any way to address your Father? Daughter of mine, I taught you better."
He finally stands up and brushes himself off, and faces her fully, his hands neatly folded behind his back. His eyes looked down at the sword, then back to her; a slightly raised eyebrow was the only indication that he had acknowledged the weapon.
"You PROGRAMMED me - you didn't teach," she corrects him harshly, not taking well to him using that particular phrase. "Not that such'll save you anymore. One of your little projects saw to that."
The man tilts his head. "Oh?"
"Yeah. C-04-01B. Merrick. Somehow, you managed to make him even more monstrous than yourself," she retorts sharply, blade still ready to strike. "Again. Why. Are. YOU. Here."
Her father seems lost in thought for a moment.
"Interesting, I was sure I destroyed him when he malfunctioned.....I suppose he must have found an escape and has since degraded since his creation," He did not seem too concerned with the escaped Clone. "It took me quite a while to find you and Liocyon; I've come to bring you home....seeing as you failed to even do that."
"Spoilers: We're not going, and you've lost the power to make us," she immediately slings at him, still debating on just attacking him. "It was NEVER in the plan to go back, especially after finding out why Lio left."
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he replies, "These antics of yours are growing tiresome, my child."
"You created them at the end of the day," she points out. "I'm pretty sure you were entirely aware of how trying to enslave me was gonna work out."
She's given what passes for an incredulous look by her father as he echoes, "Enslave? is that what you think I was doing?"
This finally breaks from her calm tone of voice.
"Septimus is DEAD because of what you did!" she shouts at him, giving him a gaze that likely has made some random primal rollover disturbed in their sleep. "YOU should be the dead one."
He gave the barest hint of emotion at the mention of Septimus's name; his eyes seemed to soften just slightly.
"What happened to your brother....was a tragedy," He said in a slightly softer tone, "Believe me when I say....that I grieved with the rest of you."
"If that's fucking so, why did you even programme me to kill our family!" she shouts; for the moment, the last vestiges of the conditioning can't fight past her seething rage. "I nearly killed LIO because of your bullshit!"
The almost emotionless state returns the response, "Better to die at the hands of a family member than one of these barbarians."
"If not for these 'savages', Merrick would have succeeded. You're only dealing with me because they rescued me," she retorts hotly, clearly provoked by his words. "If not for them, Lio would be dead. Because that's Merrick's goal - to replace my brother."
This actually gives her father pause before he brushes the information off again.
"That clone is delusional; I never made him for that purpose, for replacing Lio."
"Intent or not, that's what's going on, Father," she counters, the last word sounding like pure venom. "You've created one hell of a mess. He's MURDERED dozens of people - 'savage' and Garlean alike."
Her father furrows his brow as he flatly states, "A pity but hardly my problem or my concern."
"Oh?" she slowly lowers Talekeeper, assuming her...perceived lack of a stance. "Actually, it is. And you're going to fix it."
She's given what passes for a quizzical look as he states, "There is nothing to fix."
"Yeah. There is. Put on that damned monocle and LOOK," she orders him. "There's something only you can repair. It's the only reason you're not dead."
Without bothering to do as asked, he questions, "And what is that?"
"I have an aetherpool. Two pre-teen kids worth of aether. Enough to use aether," she explains to him, like he's five, "but not enough to dispatch your monster."
He makes a motion for her to continue, seeming undisturbed by this news, and she sighs a little.
"I...need you to finish what he attempted. So that I can eliminate the threat he poses to Liocyon," she explains, voice returning to that sort of mimicry of his own. "But don't think I won't stab you, somewhere non-fatal, if you do ANYTHING to Lio."
The man quirks his brow. "You want me to...expand your limited aetherpool?"
She nods at Cicero, "Yup."
"If this conversation had happened a few years ago, I would say it's impossible...." he ruminates before stating, "as it stands, I think I have knowledge and capability to do as you ask; there is one hiccup, though."
Her eyes narrow at him.
"Hiccup? The fact your lab in the Capital can't be accessed?" she asks him.
The man's lips form a thin smile as he gives what might be a mock-praise, "What a smart girl you are."
She smirks a little at that.
"Smart enough to know how to get all your equipment out," she almost teases him.
"Not only my lab equipment but my research notes..." he emphasises, "unless you have a team willing to infiltrate Empire territory and access my lab."
"Pfft. We HAVE your notes already. Tana grabbed every tomestone that wasn't nailed down when she left," she explains to him. "What we don't have, currently, is any of your equipment or anything close enough to it. All that shit here is Sharlayan."
He shrugs and continues, "If you can bring me my equipment, I can work on your little request...I have a condition, though."
She rolls her eyes faintly. "Because, of course, you do."
"I want to see Liocyon."
"And I have conditions on that," she retorts immediately, voice razor-sharp. "You do ANYTHING harmful to him; I will make you regret it. Slowly."
"To the pain."
With a faint sigh and a small wave of his hand, he agrees, "Your theatrics are noted. I assume he is inside that......establishment."
She nods once.
"Yeah, but Calficer's more likely to kill you than let you in," she somewhat smugly points out. "I can go get him, though."
He makes a motion, "By all means."
She decides to prove a point before such. Without warning, she blinks into the Lifestream only to reappear with her sword right across Cicero's neck, edge gently touching such - enough to leave an extremely thin red mark but not enough to cut deeply.
"Just remember my conditions, "Father," she states before blinking again, displacing back to where she was before turning to get Lio. Talekeeper stays out.
Her father seems unphased by the threat "Noted."
She enters the House of Mystery, looking to her pacing brother immediately. "He's aware of the conditions."
Her twin turns paler shade. "He's not g-gone?"
"Nope. We've a little arrangement. He's allowed to speak to you, so long as he doesn't do anything shitty," she explains to her twin. "If he does ANYTHING harmful, I'm corps-a-corps'ing his dick."
He takes a deep breath, his body trembling slightly.
"Alright..." he says weakly. "Ok...just....stay with me, please."
She nods at Lio, grinning. "He can't stop me anymore," she reminds Lio, "so I'll be right beside you unless I have to suddenly castrate him."
Her reflection nods before looking to the door. "Alright then..."
Aquila Aurelius returns with Lio in tow, the rapier still out and perhaps at the ready. Her lack of stance is maddening to anyone who knows how to sword fight.
After they exit the house, her brother stands behind her. "H-hello F-Father...." *He says weakly, his eyes looking towards the ground.*
Cicero Aurelius would calmly watch his daughter and son exit the building, a small smile turning the corner of his lip* "Liocyon....you've changed quite a bit since I last saw you, have you finally embraced science?"
She mutters, "...wears the coat better than you ever did..."
Her twin looks over at her before looking back to his father, trying to explain himself, "I have...it was...it was required, someone needed it..."
Their father looks over to her for a moment before looking back to Lio and nodding.
"Good, good..." He takes a few steps forward as he speaks, "You look so much like your mother....she wanted to be here, you know.."
She glares at him at the mention of their mother, despite the accuracy. "Then why isn't she?" she retorts sharply.
Their father gives her a look as he answers, "It is unsafe for us outside of the safehouse."
Her twin takes a step forward as he eagerly asks, "Mother is here? what about the others?"
She moves her blade between her reflection and their father.
"Ah ah ah," she notes to their father. "And who the fuck's fault is it that she's not safe?"
"The fool that sits on the throne now," the man said simply. "He turned our country into a damn cult."
This causes her blade to focus on their father again, pointed aimed right at his throat as she retorts, "Nah. YOU made it, so none of us are safe outside the estate."
Shaking his head, the man intones, "Everything I did was to make it safe for you and Liocyon."
Her brother gently places his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm her, softly murmuring, "Aquila.."
Reluctantly, she drops the sword away from their father's throat, though Talekeeper remains out.
"I don't think experimenting on your own kids and turning them into monsters is really for the best," she points out with a huff.
"Perhaps one day you will understand what I was trying to do,"
their father sighs, "In any case, fine....bring me my equipment, and I will expand your aetherpool...after that, perhaps we can sit down and discuss things as adults?"
Her twin looks between her and their father, moving closer to his sister.
She shakes her head at her brother a little bit.
"...he wasn't supposed to know that, but...fine," she concedes, looking at their father before adding, "...but the conditions stand, even then."
For his part, the man makes a mock 'oops' face as he flippantly states, "My mistake, but fine."
"...I have a shorter blade that I can use," she points out. "Won't kill you, but it'll hurt."
Their father waves his hand as he mocks, "Yes, yes, you're threats are noted...I will take my leave; contact me as soon as you have my equipment."
She nods once, Talekeeper remaining out until he's well and gone.
"Yeah, sure. Say hi to mum for us," she quips.
The man looks back at Lio. "It was.....good to see you again, son."
Her reflection nods as he murmurs, "Father..."
In a flat tone, as he turns, their father states, "Aquila."
"Father."
((Adapted from an RP with Liocyon.))
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