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saiacross · 1 year

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Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic : 7,665 Words : Series: Reader-Insert

Chapter 15: A New Threat

This Work is part of an overarching story that can be read as a one-shot with little overlapping information from other chapters. **This Chapter is a direct continuation of Chapter 14.**

⬅ Chapter 14 The Truths Unveiled 💜 Chapter 16 Tails ➡ Master List

Chapter 15: After the information that was offloaded onto Y/N, the last thing she wanted to do was be in her own head. However shit goes downhill quickly while she and Sam are out on a supply run and encounter a new threat. It's just one thing after another whenever she is around it seems, which often leaves those around her hurt. Y/N of course won't just sit by while she watches them suffer; she WILL save him, she always will. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 Main Story: Y/N is no ordinary Huntress and when she runs into the Winchesters her life takes a turn. As time unfolds, they get to know each other, rely on one another, and demonstrate they care for one another in their own ways. Y/N's life begins to unravel into her history, present, and what lies ahead. She faces resurfacing fears she believed she'd escaped long ago, aided by the Winchester brothers. Their journey together is one of confronting old horrors and finding newfound strength.

The dimly lit bar provided a shroud of anonymity, a space where Y/N could be alone with her thoughts. Her fingers absently traced the rim of the glass, the condensation cooling her skin as she swirled the contents within. The clinking of glasses and distant chatter formed a backdrop, a distant hum that she barely registered.

Olivia's words echoed in her mind, each syllable etching itself into her consciousness. "Your father, your real father is Susanoo, Japanese God of Sea and Storm." The weight of that revelation hung heavy over Y/N, her world shifting as the enormity of her true lineage settled upon her.

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on her drink, her eyes unfocused as she played and replayed the conversation with Olivia. It was as if the bar had faded away, leaving only her and the haunting cadence of Olivia's voice.

"During his time before Banishment Susanoo took many consorts and had many children. Your mother was selected by Inari for Susanoo, though she was unhappy with the arrangement and tried to refuse. In the end, your mother fled to Earth with the intention of remaining here, raising you in secret. That is when she fell in love with a human Sano."

The words swirled in her mind, a whirlwind of emotions churning within her. Confusion, anger, and a sense of betrayal intermingled, each emotion vying for dominance. Y/N's grip on the glass tightened, her knuckles white with the force of her hold.

The bar around her seemed to blur, the patrons and the clinking of glasses fading into the background as Y/N's internal turmoil took center stage. She was adrift in a sea of revelations, her identity fractured and reshaped by the newfound truths that had been thrust upon her.

"Inari called for the return of all those left and locked the gates, leaving you on earth with the promise that Sano would end his hunt once he was satisfied."

It was like an anchor settled on Y/N's chest, abandoned by the very forces she had been told was a part of her, Y/N's heart ached with a profound sense of isolation. She felt like a pawn in a cosmic game, a sacrifice.

Olivia's voice continued to weave its tale, painting a picture of a destiny intertwined with power and purpose.

"The power Sano seeks from you now is most likely your power when we reach your full potential, being a child of Susanoo and Kitsune it will be great."

With a determined exhale, Y/N downed the last remnants of her drink and raised the glass slightly, a silent signal for the waitress to refill it. The liquid fire burned its way down her throat, momentarily distracting her from the torrent of emotions swirling within.

As the waitress topped off her glass, Y/N's gaze remained fixed on the amber liquid within. The bar's ambient noise seemed to fade into the background, as the conversation started all over again.

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The door's chime resonated through the bar as Dean's determined face appeared, his eyes immediately locking onto Y/N. His voice cut through the air like a sharp command, summoning Sam to his side. The urgency in Dean's tone was palpable as he barked, "Found her!"

With the entry of the Winchester brothers, the atmosphere shifted, the bar's once-mundane ambiance disrupted by their presence. Dean's strides were purposeful, his frustration evident in the muttered curses that escaped his lips. He zeroed in on Y/N's table, each step a testament to his concern and anger.

However, Sam was right behind him, a calming force that acted as a buffer between Dean and the turmoil that undoubtedly swirled within Y/N. Sam's outstretched arm halted Dean's advance, a gesture both protective and cautionary. His eyes, though tense, implored his brother to approach the situation with care. For a moment, a silent standoff unfolded – Dean's resolve against Sam's measured restraint. The air was charged with unspoken tension.

With a shared breath, Dean and Sam slowly moved forward, the storm of emotions lingering in the room. They pulled out chairs and took their seats beside Y/N, a unified front against the complexities that had unfurled around them.

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on her glass, her features a portrait of contemplation and introspection. Her silence was a palpable presence, a wall built of unspoken thoughts and revelations.

No words were exchanged as the trio sat in a heavy silence.

Sam and Dean's silent exchange was like a dance of hesitation, a wordless debate over who should break the somber stillness first. Sam's gentle urging was met with Dean's stubborn resistance, their unspoken communication revealing a dynamic forged over years of shared experiences.

But before the standoff could continue, it was Y/N who shattered the stillness, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Her words were a torrent, a mixture of frustration, bitterness, and raw emotion. Y/N's gaze remained fixed on her glass, her vulnerability hidden behind the veil of her words.

"You know," Y/N began, her voice a mixture of sarcasm and incredulity, "the fucked up part of this is that they put it in a book." Her words hung in the air, each syllable weighted with the weight of her revelations.

Dean's brows furrowed in confusion, and he shot a questioning look at Sam, who returned the expression. They were both caught off guard by Y/N's outburst, unsure of how to respond.

Y/N continued, her voice carrying a mix of bitterness and resignation, "The Seers wrote every piece of information about me in a fucking book like some kind of fuck-up fairy tale, and the old woman gave it to me." Her words were tinged with bitter humor, a touch of irony that underscored the absurdity of the situation.

The raw emotion in Y/N's words was palpable, her frustration and anger radiating from her as she laid bare the weight of her revelations. It was as if the dam had burst, and the floodgates of her pent-up emotions had been released.

"It's not enough to find out I was conceived unwillingly by a literal God," Y/N continued, her tone biting, "or that my existence is the reason for tons of suffering in the world, and of course, I'm apparently some kind of freak of nature among monsters." Each word she spoke seemed to carve deeper into the wounds of her reality, the pain and confusion etched into her voice.”NOPE, now let's put it all in a book and send it home with ya!” Y/N drowns her glass full of amber liquid.

A heavy silence followed Y/N's outburst, the weight of her words lingering in the air like a dark cloud. Sam's gaze remained fixed on Y/N, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow.

Finally, Sam's concern broke through as he directed his attention to the glass in front of Y/N. His voice was gentle, a touch of worry lacing his words, "How many of those have you had?"

Y/N's head tilted slightly, her expression defiant as she met Sam's gaze, her ear almost touching her shoulder in a gesture of disdain. She held his gaze for a moment before retorting, "I'm not drunk Sam."

Dean's response was laced with a hint of dark humor, a reflection of his own coping mechanisms, as he quipped, "Yet."

Sam's attempt to reason with Y/N was met with a cold and distant expression as if Y/N had retreated into a shell of numbness. Her eyes, once vibrant and fiery, now seemed dull, drained of their usual spark.

"Look, I know it's bad, alright? But sitting here getting wasted isn’t going to help anything." Sam's voice carried a mix of empathy and frustration, his gaze fixed on Y/N's downcast eyes. He was trying to reach her, to break through the emotional barrier she had built around herself.

Y/N's response, however, was laced with a bitterness that cut through the air like a knife. "Don't give me that crap," she retorted, her tone biting. "I see the way you two put down bottles when shit hits the fan, especially with the whole mark bullshit." Her hand gestured dismissively in Dean's direction, her words a blunt reminder of their own struggles.

The tension in the air seemed to thicken as Y/N's words hung between them, a stark reminder of the flaws and vulnerabilities that existed within each of them. Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, their expressions a mix of surprise and defensiveness. Y/N's words had struck a chord, and they couldn't deny the truth behind her observations.

But Y/N wasn't finished. Her voice continued, carrying a bitter edge as she pressed on, "You two could put a whole distillery out of business in a week."

Dean's patience had worn thin, and he leaned forward with a determined expression, intervening in the tense exchange. Swiftly, he reached over and plucked the glass from Y/N's grip, his voice carrying a stern edge.

"Yes, but the difference is that we can handle our liquor. You, on the other hand, well, I don't want to be cleaning puke out of the Impala tonight." His words were firm, and his gaze bore into Y/N's, a clear signal that he was drawing a line.

Y/N's response was a resigned sigh, her eyes briefly meeting Dean's before she looked away. She recognized that pushing Dean's buttons any further would only escalate matters. The tension in the air was thick, a silent struggle between wills, but at that moment, Y/N chose to relent.

Sam, sensing the need to diffuse the situation, stood from his seat and gently patted Y/N's back. His voice was soothing as he spoke, "Come on, let's get out of here." His words held a touch of reassurance, an unspoken understanding that they were all in this together.

With a reluctant nod, Y/N rose from her seat, her gaze still avoiding Dean's intense stare. Dean, his expression softened but still resolute, tossed some cash onto the table to cover their tab. It was a small gesture, a sign that he was willing to move past the tension and keep moving forward.

The trio walked toward the Impala, each step carrying a weight of unspoken emotions and unresolved tensions. Dean's hand delved into his pocket, fingers wrapping around the car keys. It was then that a voice, unmistakably familiar, pierced the silence, cutting through the air like a blade. "YOU!"

Y/N's head swiveled in the direction of the voice, her heart quickening with a mixture of surprise and apprehension. But before she could fully react, an abrupt, stinging impact jolted her head in the opposite direction. The sharp slap reverberated through the air, leaving a stunned and angered expression on Y/N's face. Her shock quickly gave way to a rising surge of fury, igniting like wildfire once more.

In the tense aftermath of the slap, Y/N's gaze shifted, her eyes locking onto the person who had struck her. The intensity in her stare was nothing short of a threat, a declaration of the storm brewing within her. Sam and Dean moved swiftly, positioning themselves between Y/N and the source of her anguish, Emma, a human barrier to shield her from Y/N’s wrath.

Dean's voice cut through the charged atmosphere, laced with a raw anger that matched Y/N's own. His words were a scolding indictment.

"What the hell is your problem? Did I not make myself clear at the diner?" Dean's towering figure loomed over Emma, his presence an unwavering shield for Y/N.

Emma's tear-streaked face quivered as she looked past Dean to meet Y/N's gaze. Her voice wavered, choked with sorrow and anger, as she uttered her accusation.

"This is your fault! She is dead now because of you!" The accusation hung in the air like a heavy shroud, casting a shadow over the already tense scene.

Dean reacted quickly, raising his hands in a calming gesture as he spoke in hushed urgency, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, keep your voice down." His eyes darted around, ensuring that their confrontation had not drawn unwanted attention. With a careful step, he positioned himself to prevent Emma from reaching Y/N. The urgency of the situation was palpable, the mystery of Emma's claim demanding immediate answers. Dean's voice held a mix of concern and confusion as he pressed, "What are you talking about?"

Emma's glare bore into Dean, an amalgamation of grief, anger, and accusation that seemed to pierce through him. Her voice, tinged with bitterness, cut through the air as she spoke through clenched teeth, her pain palpable.

"My mother is dead because of you. You bring death and sorrow wherever you go!" The accusation hung heavy in the air, a searing indictment that cast a shadow over the already tense atmosphere.

Y/N's gasp was a heart-wrenching sound, the weight of the revelation crashing down upon her like a tidal wave. She whispered Olivia's name, the anguish in her voice mirroring the turmoil within her soul. But Emma's response was swift and cutting, a fierce command laced with a desperate plea. "Don't you dare say her name!"

Sam's expression twisted in confusion as he turned from Y/N over to Emma and Dean, seeking some form of clarity in the midst of the turmoil. His voice was tinged with bewilderment as he spoke, "Wait, we were just with Olivia not even an hour ago."

Dean's resolve hardened, his grip on the situation firm as he took charge. With a brisk motion, he gestured for Emma to head to the Impala. His voice carried an authoritative edge as he directed, "Alright, that's enough. Everyone in the car now."

The Impala became a cocoon of tension as the four of them settled into their respective seats. Y/N occupied the passenger seat, her mind a whirlwind of emotions, while Emma and Sam sat in the back, a buffer between the two sources of contention. Dean's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his jaw clenched, as he navigated the car back to the shop.

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Upon their return, Emma led the group into the familiar sitting room, the air heavy with a sense of impending sorrow. The sight that greeted them was both haunting and heartbreaking: Olivia's lifeless form lay beneath a simple sheet, a poignant reminder of the fleeting nature of existence and the weight of their world. The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence punctuated only by the distant sounds of the world beyond.

Sam's gentle voice sliced through the heavy silence, a question tinged with concern, "Do you know who or what did this?" His empathy was palpable, a steady anchor in the midst of the storm.

Emma's response was hushed, her voice carrying a weight of sorrow as she stared at her mother's lifeless form, "I only returned not too long ago and found her. She was already gone." Sam's whispered apology hung in the air, a heartfelt acknowledgment of the pain that filled the room.

Dean's practical nature surfaced as he exhaled a resigned sigh, his words carrying a sense of determination, "Alright, we'll start searching for..." But before he could finish, Emma's voice interjected, her tone heavy with a mix of grief and accusation, "No, just leave. Whatever did this, it's because you were here."

Sam's attempt to reason with Emma was met with her firm resolve, her voice a fragile yet resolute whisper, "Emma, you don't know that and they could come back. Just let us do our thing, alright?"

Emma's head shook slowly, her gaze steady as she repeated her plea, "You can help me by getting as far away from here as possible and don't come back."

A gentle pull on Dean's jacket drew his attention, and as he turned to Y/N, he found an unspoken agreement in her eyes. The trio reluctantly turned away, leaving the shop behind. Outside, the reality of their predicament settled heavily upon them.

Sam's voice carried a note of protest as they stepped outside, his concern evident, "We can't just leave her."

Y/N's actions spoke louder than words, as she opened the back door of the Impala, a mixture of determination and resignation in her expression. She stated the hard truth, "Yes, we can, because she is right." With a resigned sigh, she continued, "Me being here is what caused this. I can smell his scent on the body."

With a sense of finality, Y/N slid into the car and shut the door, leaving Sam and Dean momentarily stunned.

The Impala rumbled to life as the car pulled onto the street, its engine providing a steady rhythm as they embarked on a journey filled with uncertainty and regret. The road stretched out before them, a winding path that mirrored the twists and turns of their tumultuous emotions.

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Sam's footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor of the bunker as he approached Dean's room. The door was already ajar, he found his brother engrossed in a book, his attention seemingly far away. Sam's voice was casual as he leaned against the doorframe, "Hey, I'm heading to pick Y/N up from the Rec Center and then doing a food run. Wanna come?"

Dean's eyes remained fixed on the pages before him, his response lacking his usual enthusiasm, "Nah, I'm good." The tone was absent of his usual bravado, and it made Sam pause, concern flickering in his eyes.

His curiosity piqued, Sam stepped further into the room, his gaze falling on the book in Dean's hands. His eyebrows knitted together as he inquired, "What you reading?"

With a slow motion, Dean closed the book, lifting it slightly to reveal the title. His voice was calm as he answered, "It's, uh, that book Olivia gave Y/N."

Sam's surprise was evident, his tone tinged with incredulity, "You mean that one about her? That's a little personal, don't ya think?"

Dean's hand rested on the cover of the book, his expression contemplative, "Yeah, well, isn't the first time.” Dean was referring to the other book that he took upon himself to study. “And besides, she actually gave it to us."

Sam's eyebrows shot up, his astonishment clear, "What?"

Dean nodded, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes, "Yeah, I was surprised too. But she said she didn't care at this point."

Sam's response was a simple, "Huh." The word held a multitude of emotions—surprise, understanding, and perhaps a hint of respect for Y/N's decision to share her story in such an intimate way. The brothers had encountered countless mysteries and challenges in their hunter's journey, but Y/N continued to surprise them. Sam moved closer to Dean and the book. “So what’s it say?”

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Y/N eased herself into the passenger seat of her sleek Corvette, her muscles still buzzing with the aftermath of the rigorous kickboxing class she had just endured at the Rec Center. It was a Monday routine she had established for herself, a way to channel her energy and clear her mind. The sound of the engine rumbling to life was a comforting hum, and she appreciated Sam's presence beside her for the drive.

"How was class?" Sam's voice cut through the quiet, his genuine interest evident in his tone. Y/N's lips curved into a tired smile as she replied, "Exhausting. I think some of the ladies were hoping you would come in when they found out I got dropped off, though."

A soft chuckle rumbled from Sam's chest, the memory of his previous interactions with the kickboxing class women bringing amusement. He navigated the car smoothly onto the road, his focus shifting between Y/N and the traffic ahead. The tension from the workout already starting to ebb away. As they merged into traffic, Y/N's fingers idly traced patterns on the edge of her seat. "So, what's the plan after we grab food? Back to the bunker?"

Sam's hands gripped the steering wheel, and he nodded, his features thoughtful. "Yeah, that's the plan. I figure we can stock up on some supplies and maybe do a bit of research and see what we can find.”

Y/N nodded as she leaned back in her seat, the hum of the engine and the rhythm of the road lulling her into a sense of calm. Sam's presence beside her was a reassuring, silent promise that she wasn't navigating this storm alone.

Y/N's Corvette was a beauty, a reflection of her personality and style. And today, it was Sam who was driving, a compromise she made with him in exchange for dropping her off and picking her up from the rec center. Of course, Sam didn't need much bribery when she asked him to drive her. Y/N knew she could rely on Sam, his willingness to drive her to the rec center was a small testament to that fact.

Y/N's thoughts momentarily flickered back to the discoveries of the previous day, the weight of her heritage and the revelations about her existence still fresh and heavy. The conversation with Olivia had left her reeling, her mind a swirl of emotions that she struggled to process.

As they cruised down the road, she turned her head slightly to steal a glance at Sam, finding comfort in his steady profile.

"Sam?" The word slipped from her lips almost hesitantly.

“Yeah?” Sam's attention shifted from the road to her, his features a mask of concern.

"Thanks for this. For being here, for driving me.” Truth be told Y/N actually just didn't want to be alone right now, even if that meant sitting in silence while just in another presence.

A warm smile graced Sam's lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He knew what she was really thanking for. "Anytime.”

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The sun was making its slow descent on the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the bustling streets. Sam and Y/N emerged from the store, this time only one small bag each. The weight of the bags was still insignificant compared to the conversations they had been having between them during their errand run.

Sam's voice broke the quiet moment as he checked his phone, his expression a mixture of surprise and mild concern. "Man, I didn't realize it was getting this late. We've been at this for a while."

Y/N nodded in agreement, her steps falling into sync with Sam's as they made their way down the busy sidewalk. Her gaze was contemplative as she replied, "Yeah, but it's been a bit since we fully stocked up.”

As they walked, Y/N's senses seemed to prickle, a nagging feeling at the back of her mind. She cast a subtle glance over her shoulder, catching glimpses of a figure that appeared oddly familiar, lurking at a distance. Her voice lowered to a cautious whisper, "Sam, I think we're being followed."

Sam's brows furrowed, his hunter instincts immediately kicking in. He maintained his pace, yet his senses were now finely attuned to their surroundings. "Are you sure?" he asked quietly, his eyes scanning the area discreetly.

Y/N nodded, her gaze flitting nervously between their path ahead and the faint shadow that seemed to keep pace behind them. "Yeah, I've seen him at a couple of the stores we've been to. I thought I was just being paranoid but it's not a coincidence."

A determined glint entered Sam's eyes as he assessed the situation. He steered them both into a nearby alley, the dimming sunlight casting long shadows around them. Sam's voice was steady as he said, "Alright, let's see who our friend is. Stick close to me."

Their steps echoed softly against the alley's pavement, the tension building with each passing second. Y/N's heart raced, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety coursing through her veins She glanced back, catching fleeting glimpses of movement at the mouth of the alley. Her voice, hushed and tense, carried the weight of urgency as she whispered, "He's still out there, Sam."

Sam's eyes darted between the entrance of the alley and Y/N, his jaw set in determination. His hand slipped instinctively beneath his jacket, fingers grazing the familiar grip of his weapon.

Their pursuer, whoever it was, seemed to draw closer, the sound of footsteps growing more distinct. Y/N's grip on her bag tightened, now wishing she had a weapon of her own. Her voice barely above a whisper, she said, "He's almost caught up, Sam."

"Just be ready," he murmured, his voice a low, steady reassurance.

And then, he appeared. A figure emerged from the mouth of the alley, stepping cautiously into the fading light. Y/N's breath caught as recognition set in, her eyes widening in disbelief. The tension that had gripped her moments ago transformed into a whirlwind of emotions, a mix of surprise, relief, and lingering distrust.

"Dean?" The word escaped Y/N's lips in a hushed exhale, her gaze locked on the familiar face before her.

Sam's stance relaxed slightly, his focus shifting from the newcomer to Y/N. He followed her gaze, his own expression a mix of surprise and wariness. "What are you doing here?"

Dean's features held a blend of weariness and concern as he took in the scene before him. His eyes met Y/N's, and for a moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them. "I've been trying to catch up with you guys," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "We need to talk."

Sam exchanged a brief glance with Y/N, his expression hinting at their shared skepticism. "Alright, talk," he replied cautiously, his hand never straying far from his weapon.

Dean began to approach Y/N and Sam while rubbing the back of his neck. Y/N's heart raced as she whispered her realization, "That's not Dean!" Her words hung in the air like a chilling omen, and her senses went into overdrive. Before Sam could react, the man had already drawn a crossbow from seemingly thin air, aimed at them.

But the man didn't give them a chance to comprehend the situation fully. With a quick gesture, he conjured a force that sent Sam's weapon flying out of his grip. Panic surged through Y/N's veins as she watched the pistol tumble away.

The air was punctuated by the twang of the crossbow string sending an arrow through the air. Sam turned to shield Y/N, causing the arrow to find its target in him instead. Y/N's heart froze in her chest as she caught Sam's weight, his body slumping against hers as they fell to their knees.

"NO!" The word tore from Y/N's throat, a raw cry fueled by equal parts shock and horror. The world seemed to slow around her, the alleyway shrinking to a pinpoint of agony.

The man's laughter resonated through the air, a haunting symphony that seemed to mock the gravity of the situation. With an eerie fluidity, he reloaded his crossbow, his form shifting and contorting until his true, malevolent visage emerged. The sight was chilling, a creature borne of darkness and malefic intent.

But Y/N's focus was unwavering, her rage an inferno that consumed her fear. The transformation was both beautiful and fearsome to behold. Her eyes blazed with a fiery red hue, an unmistakable sign of her power. The tails of a Kitsune unfurled from her back, and the very air crackled with energy around her.

No longer did it matter who this man was, whether an imitation of Dean or a sinister being. Y/N's fury eclipsed all doubts, and she was determined to protect Sam at any cost.

In an almost primal display, her tails arched upward, each one cradling a swirling orb of searing flame. The intensity of her power radiated through the alley, a beacon of raw, untamed energy.

With a silence more potent than words, Y/N unleashed her fiery onslaught. The fireballs streaked through the air with purpose, their trajectory unwavering as if guided by an unseen force. A symphony of elements clashed as the man's next arrow met one of Y/N's fireballs, turning it to ash before it could reach its mark.

The other three fireballs found their mark, colliding with the man's form in a crescendo of flames. Y/N's eyes bore into the conflagration, her breaths ragged and her heart pounding. The man's visage contorted in agony as he was consumed by the inferno, his form consumed by the very fire he had faced off against.

Yet, even as the flames danced and the air filled with the acrid scent of burning, a sense of unease gnawed at Y/N. She watched, her fox ears twitching with anticipation, as the flames gradually subsided. There was a lingering tension, a palpable feeling that this foe might not truly be vanquished.

The alley fell into an eerie silence, the aftermath of the blazing confrontation. Y/N's tails slowly settled back behind her, their fiery auras dissipating as her transformation receded. She knelt beside Sam, her eyes still fixed on the smoldering remnants of the man who had threatened their lives.

Sam's groans were a stark reminder of the immediate danger they were in. Y/N's focus shifted back to the wounded man in her arms, her heart clenching at the sight of his pain-stricken face. As her fingers tentatively touched the shaft of the arrow, a chill raced down Y/N's spine. There was something unsettling that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness. The scent that reached her nose was faint but unmistakable – the arrow had been tainted with poison.

Fear gripped Y/N's heart as she looked down at the arrowhead, its malevolent design now more sinister than ever. Her mind raced, analyzing the implications of the poisoned arrow, and a sense of urgency flooded her veins. She brought her stained fingers closer to her nose, confirming the presence of the toxic substance that had been used against them.

"We need to get you back to the bunker, Sam," Y/N's voice trembled with a mix of concern and determination. Her gaze met Sam's, her eyes conveying the urgency of their predicament. "That poison needs to be neutralized."

The urgency of the situation propelled Y/N into swift and decisive action. Carefully she maneuvered Sam so that he laid against her back, and his arms draped over her shoulders His body was completely limp, most likely numb to him due to the poison. It wasn't that Sam was heavy, thanks to her above-normal strength she could lift his weight with no problem, the issue was that he was just so much bigger than her; truly a giant standing at 6ft4in tall and built like an ox.

Gently, Y/N settled Sam into the passenger seat of her Corvette, carefully angling his body to minimize any discomfort from the poisoned arrow lodged in his shoulder. She knew that every movement had to be precise, every action calculated to avoid exacerbating his condition. Sam's form slumped against the seat, his usual vitality replaced by the pallor of pain and the ominous shadow of the poison's effect.

The engine roared to life as Y/N's foot pressed down on the accelerator, the Corvette surging forward with a controlled intensity. The city streets became a blur as she navigated through traffic with a blend of skill and urgency. Red lights were mere suggestions as Y/N weaved her way through the urban labyrinth, her focus singularly directed toward their destination.

Beside her, Sam's labored breathing served as a constant reminder of the perilous situation they were in. Y/N's eyes flicked toward him every so often, her heart heavy with worry. The seconds stretched into minutes, each one a precious thread in the fabric of time that was rapidly unraveling.

As she sped toward the bunker, Y/N's mind raced alongside the Corvette's engine. She wrestled with the enigma of the poison that now coursed through Sam's veins, her thoughts a whirlwind of possibilities and potential solutions. The unknown nature of the toxin fueled her determination, pushing her to think outside the box and consider every avenue of salvation.

The bunker's entrance loomed ahead, a promise of safety and resources that could mean the difference between life and death. Y/N guided the car through the garage doors with a sense of urgency, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. The tires screeched to a halt as she brought the Corvette to a swift stop, the vehicle's engine still humming with pent-up energy.

With practiced efficiency, Y/N opened her door and hurried to the passenger side. She gently helped Sam out of the car, his weight now supported by her once again. The bunker's interior enveloped them in a welcome embrace, the walls seeming to radiate a sense of protection and solace.

The urgency in Y/N's voice was like a piercing siren, cutting through the air and echoing through the corridors of the bunker. Her desperate cry carried with it a plea for help, a call to arms in the face of danger. As her footsteps echoed against the bunker's walls, she moved with a purpose towards the medical bay, her determination unyielding despite the weight of Sam's limp body in her arms.

"Dean! Dean, help!" The words tore through the silence, a raw expression of fear and urgency that reverberated through the air. Each syllable was laden with the weight of the situation, a dire plea that echoed the gravity of the moment. Her voice, usually so composed and strong, now held a vulnerability that spoke volumes.

Dean's response was swift, the sound of his footsteps closing in on the source of the distress call. His presence materialized as he rounded a corner, his eyes immediately locking onto Y/N and Sam. The concern etched across his face was palpable. Y/N's frantic eyes met Dean's.

"What happened?" Dean's voice was a calm and authoritative anchor amidst the turmoil. His eyes quickly scanned Sam's unconscious form, his years of experience as a hunter kicking in as he assessed the situation. Y/N's words tumbled out in a rush, a stream of information mingled with anxiety.

"Poison arrow.. Medbay now." Y/N's sentences were punctuated by the urgency of the moment, each word a testament to the dire straits they were in. Without hesitation, Dean moved to support Sam's weight, his strong arms taking on the burden that Y/N had carried. Together, they navigated the corridors, their footsteps echoing in tandem as they made their way to the medical bay.

The medical bay was a flurry of tension and activity, a stark contrast to its usually sterile and organized appearance. The examination table bore the weight of Sam's form, his groans and hisses of pain punctuating the air as he battled the effects of the poison that coursed through his veins. His sweat-soaked skin and the unnatural hue of his lips and fingertips painted a grim picture of his deteriorating condition.

Dean's presence was a steadfast anchor amidst the chaos, his hands moving with a practiced touch as he tried to offer Sam some comfort amidst the agony he was enduring. His voice was a soothing balm, a constant stream of reassurances.

"You're gonna be alright, Sammy. Just hang in there," Dean's voice carried a mixture of empathy and determination, a vow that they would get through this together. His fingers brushed Sam's forehead, wiping away the sweat that had gathered there.

"What kind of poison is this?" Dean's question was laced with concern, his eyes locked onto Y/N as she worked. Her reply was brisk, her focus unwavering as she addressed the immediate needs of the situation. The unknown nature of the poison serves as a formidable obstacle in their efforts to save Sam. Her directive was clear, a reflection of the urgency that hung heavy in the air. "Remove his shirt and try to get that arrow out."

Dean looked up from Sam's side to Y/N, and the weight of their predicament became even more evident. Y/N's movements were frantic, a departure from her usually composed demeanor. She stood at the nearby counter as she pulled vials from the cabinets, her actions driven by a need to find a solution in the face of uncertainty.

Dean's gaze shifted back to Sam, his heart heavy with the weight of responsibility. Y/N's rapid movements, and her sense of urgency, raised alarms in Dean's mind; this version of her, the one propelled by distress, was a new sight. As Dean began to carefully work on removing Sam's shirt, his hands moved with precision despite the inner turmoil that churned within him.

The medical bay became an orchestra of pain and determination, the dissonance of Sam's agonizing screams intertwining with Dean's careful actions. As Dean worked, his brow furrowed in concentration, each movement calculated to minimize further harm to Sam. But the gut-wrenching sound of his brother's cries cut through him like a blade.

Dean's concerned glances toward Y/N did not go unnoticed. His eyes flickered toward her, his gaze searching for any sign of guidance or hope amidst the chaos as Y/N's hands moved with a focused urgency, the rhythmic grinding of herbs in the mortar and pestle serving as a background to Sam's painful cries.

But what Dean couldn't see were the tormenting shadows that danced at the edges of Y/N's consciousness. As she mixed the herbs with a sense of urgency, her mind was a battlefield, plagued by the haunting forms of Sano and Emma standing next to her.

Their voices were like a relentless chorus of accusation, their presence a heavy weight that bore down on Y/N's already burdened mind. Sano's malicious whispers intertwined with Emma's disapproving gaze, creating a tormenting symphony that played out in the corners of her psyche. Each muttered word, each judgmental look, only to remind her that this was her fault.

Y/N's jaw clenched as she continued muttering her list of ingredients and instructions in an attempt to maintain her composure amidst the onslaught and drown out their voices. Her hands trembled slightly, a subtle sign of the internal battle that raged within her. She wanted to silence the voices, to quell the doubts that clawed at her resolve, but their presence was unyielding, a manifestation of her own fears and guilt.

“Just Shut Up Dammit!” Y/N's hands slammed against the metal counter, the force of her frustration echoed through the room, momentarily drowning out the haunting voices that had tormented her. The suddenness of her outburst caught Dean off guard, a mixture of surprise and worry flickering in his eyes. He watched as Y/N took a moment to regain her composure, her breathing steadying and the spectral figures of Sano and Emma fading into nothingness.

Y/N's breaths came in measured rhythms, her grip on the counter serving as an anchor to the present moment. She then turned and approached Sam with the bowl of herbs, her eyes met Dean's for a fleeting moment, "You might have to hold him still this might be rough.”

“Yeah alright.” Dean hesitantly choked out as his hands shifted from a stance of caution to one of support. He positioned himself beside Sam, his muscles tensed and ready to provide the necessary restraint should Sam's pain prove too much to bear.

“I'm going to draw and extract the poison from his body, forcibly.” Y/N poured a thick paste from the bowl into Sam’s wound. Her hand hovered above the paste, her touch careful not to add pressure to the already wounded area. And then, with a voice that resonated with ancient power, she began to chant:

"Per essentiam Telluris et viribus herbalibus; "By Earth's essence and herbal might, Hoc corpus emundo, rectum fac. I cleanse this body, make it right. Venenum tenaci nunc undo; Poison's grip I now undo, Sanatis herbis, mea imbuet illa." With healing herbs, my will imbue."

The rhythmic repetition of the words filled the room, each syllable a thread woven into the tapestry of magic that Y/N was casting. Her focus was unwavering, her voice steady even as the weight of the spell began to take hold. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the potency of the incantation, the very essence of the earth, and the healing properties of herbs responding to Y/N's call.

For those present, time seemed to stretch and contract, caught within the confines of the ritual unfolding before them. Y/N's hands glowed faintly with an ethereal light, her connection to the arcane energies palpable. The room was awash with a sense of hope and desperation intertwined, a silent plea for Sam's recovery echoing in the cadence of Y/N's words.

As Y/N chanted the spell, her vibrant red eyes shone with fierce determination. The air seemed to hum with energy, the very essence of the room shifting and responding to the ancient incantation. Dean's gaze was locked on Y/N, his grip on Sam unyielding as he held his brother in place, ensuring that the extraction process could proceed without interruption.

As Y/N's magic surged through the room, the paste on Sam's wound, once a soothing green, slowly transformed into a deep shade of purple, a visual indication that the poison was being drawn from his body. Sam's body jerked and twitched in response to the forceful extraction in his attempts to escape the pain. Dean's arms strained as he held onto Sam. Slowly, ever so slowly, the color began to return to Sam, the pallor of illness giving way to the warmth of life.

With each successive repetition of the chant, the turmoil within Sam began to subside. His body gradually stilled, the wild movements giving way to a quiet surrender as the poison was drawn from his system.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Y/N's chant reached its culmination, her voice carrying a final note of power and resolution. The medbay fell into a hushed silence, the echoes of the spell dissipating into the air. Sam's once-strained form relaxed against Dean's hold, his breaths coming easier, the color returning to his face.

The medbay was washed in a gentle, steady light as the red glow in Y/N's eyes slowly faded, leaving behind the exhaustion that accompanied the exertion of her powers. With the spell's conclusion, the weight of her efforts seemed to settle heavily upon her, her once-resolute posture giving way to weariness.

Y/N's hand, which had been poised over Sam's wound, now tenderly cradled his head. Sam's features had softened in his reprieve, his brow no longer creased with pain but instead relaxed in a peaceful slumber. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm,

“I think.. I think I got it all. He should be fine now.” Y/N’s breath came in ragged intervals as she knelt on the floor, her body leaning against the table for support with her forehead, beaded from sweat, finding solace against the cool surface of the table. Her grip on the edge of the table was the only thing holding her upright, a tribute to the tremendous strain she had just endured. The room held a reverent stillness.

Dean's concern for Y/N mixed with his initial relief for Sam's recovery. He took a cautious step forward, his eyes darting between Sam and Y/N's exhausted form. Seeing her struggle to maintain her balance, he closed the distance between them with a few brisk steps as he reached out to support her. "Easy now," Dean murmured. Gently, his strong arms encircled her waist, providing the stability she so desperately needed.

Y/N's movements were slow and deliberate, her steps carrying the weight of the ordeal that had unfolded. With Dean's support, she managed to find her footing, her body swaying slightly before steadying.

“You still need to dress his shoulder, might need a few stitches. And it will probably be a while before he wakes up, oh and he is gonna feel like shit when he does.” Her voice, though tired, held a sense of purpose as she addressed Dean, guiding him through the next steps.

"Yeah, got it," Dean responded his voice a steady anchor amidst the uncertainty that lingered. He gave a reassuring nod, silently acknowledging Y/N's instructions.

As Y/N turned to make her exit, Dean's hand reached out instinctively to touch her forearm. "Hey after I’m done here I’ll come check on you alright?" he said, his words were gentle.

Y/N offered a weary smile in return, a glimmer of gratitude shining in her eyes as she continued her path toward the med bay door. The weight of exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, but determination and a fierce sense of responsibility pushed her forward. She knew she needed rest, but she also knew that it wouldn’t come easily. Truthfully she just felt guilty and didn’t want to chance breaking down in front of Dean.

Dean's eyes never left her, a mixture of concern and respect woven into his gaze. His demeanor shifted from relief to focus as he mentally prepared to tend to Sam's wound.

Outside the medbay, Y/N's footsteps echoed down the corridor, she was covered in Sam's blood, a stark visual reminder of the lengths she would go to protect those she cared about. As she walked, her thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions, a storm of conflicting feelings that she tried to push aside for the moment.

Y/N's destination was clear—her room. She needed to wash away the physical and emotional residue of the day, to find a moment of respite in the midst of chaos. The door to her room swung open, and Y/N stepped inside, leaving the world outside as she sought a temporary sanctuary.

In the quiet solitude of her room, Y/N began the process of shedding her blood-stained clothes. The fabric fell to the ground in a heap. The shower's water beckoned, a promise of cleansing and renewal. As the water cascaded over her, Y/N let the events of the day wash away, if only for a moment.

With each drop of water that fell, Y/N's thoughts began to clear. She knew that the challenges they faced were far from over, that the journey ahead was uncertain and fraught with danger. But at that moment, as the water enveloped her, Y/N found a semblance of peace—a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was still the possibility of healing and strength.

End Chapter 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 This is the Female Reader-Insert Version of my Story, please consider taking a look at the Original with my OFC Saia.

Please comment & 💜

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yhwhrulz · 4 months

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Worthy Brief - June 11, 2024

Our goel lives!

Job 19:25 For I know that my Redeemer (Goel) lives, And He shall stand at last on the earth;

As we continue our study in Ruth during this Shavout season, the theme of redemption is prevalent. We read that Boaz became Naomi and Ruth's "kinsman redeemer", or "goel" - from the Hebrew, "lig'ol", to redeem, receive or buy back. In the Torah, a provision had been made for the poor person who was forced to sell part of his property or even himself (into slavery). This man's nearest of kin could step in and "buy back" or "redeem" what his relative had been forced to sell. [Leviticus 25:25] A slave could be redeemed from his bondage by his "goel" who literally purchased his relative's freedom.

In the story of Ruth, we read that Boaz became Naomi and Ruth's "goel", their kinsman "redeemer". First, Boaz was qualified as kin to Naomi's deceased husband Elimelech [Ruth 2:1]. Secondly, he needed to be able to redeem by paying the price of redemption. [Ruth 4:2-3]. And finally, he was willing to redeem the land which had belonged to Elimelech.[Ruth 4:4].

Naomi's losses had been devastating in Moab. Her husband and two sons had passed away and she had returned to her ancestral homeland a desolate woman, with no inheritance. Her only solace was Ruth, whose love and loyalty were legendary. But Ruth's character of devotion apparently inspired Boaz to love her, and even to ignore her Moabite ancestry; for when Boaz decided to redeem Elimelech's property, he also agreed to marry Ruth. Naomi's life, her inheritance and her destiny were also redeemed in this sweeping transaction. She had returned to Israel in deep bitterness, yet through this beautiful and unexpected redemption her friends exclaim "Blessed be the LORD, which has not left thee this day without a 'goel'. [Ruth 4:14]

The marriage of Ruth and Boaz produced a son named Obed, and a grandson named Jesse, who was the father of King David; four generations of the lineage of Yeshua the Messiah. And through his redemption of Ruth and Naomi, Boaz became a picture of Yeshua (Jesus) our Kinsman-Redeemer, who redeemed us for Himself, out of desolation and slavery to sin, and made us His own beloved bride!

Isn't it amazing how a tiny slice of human history can be filled with such significance and typological meaning? Only God could invest a beautiful human love story with an eternal redemptive purpose. Can we do any less than to fall-or rather rise-hopelessly in love with such a Redeemer?!

Your family in the Lord with much agape love,

George, Baht Rivka, Obadiah and Elianna (Missouri) (Baltimore, Maryland)

Editor's Note: During this war, we have been live blogging throughout the day -- sometimes minute by minute on our Telegram channel. -https://t.me/worthywatch/ Be sure to check it out!

Editor's Note: We are planning our summer Tour so if you would like us to minister at your congregation, home fellowship, or Israel focused event, be sure to let us know ASAP. You can send an email to george [ @ ] worthyministries.com for more information.

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xasha777 · 4 months

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In the year 2154, Earth had long been connected to a vast interstellar network, a web of alliances and conflicts stretching across the Milky Way. On the planet Kiyosha, a world rich in natural beauty and resources, an enigmatic figure known as the Veiled Empress ruled with an iron hand and an unyielding vision. Her true identity was a mystery, concealed beneath a black lace mask that covered her eyes, leaving only her piercing gaze and crimson lips visible.

The Empress, known to few as Aria Noire, had a secret that few in her court or among her subjects knew. She was the last descendant of an ancient Earth lineage, one that traced its origins back to the Age of Exploration. Her ancestor, Commodore Matthew C. Perry, had once forcibly opened Japan to the West, forever altering the course of history. Aria held a similar ambition but on a galactic scale.

One fateful day, a signal from a forgotten corner of the galaxy reached Aria's palace. It was an ancient distress call, a relic from the early days of space exploration. Intrigued, Aria ordered her most trusted advisor, a sentient AI named Lyra, to trace the signal's origin. It led them to a derelict spaceship adrift near the outer rim, a ship identified as the USS Susquehanna, once commanded by Perry himself.

Aria boarded the ship, her entourage following closely. The interior was a time capsule from the 19th century, preserved by the vacuum of space. Among the artifacts, she found Perry's personal log, which detailed his final mission: a secret journey to secure an alliance with an advanced alien race, the Vaelorians, to protect Earth from a then-unknown interstellar threat.

As Aria delved deeper into the ship's systems, Lyra decrypted a hidden message. The Vaelorians had foreseen the rise of a new galactic power that would threaten not just Earth, but the entire Milky Way. They had placed their hopes in Perry's lineage to unite the galaxy against this impending doom.

With this revelation, Aria knew her destiny. She would use her influence and the legacy of her ancestor to forge an unprecedented alliance. She summoned representatives from the major powers of the galaxy to a summit on Kiyosha. The leaders, drawn by curiosity and the Empress's formidable reputation, arrived in droves.

In the grand hall of her palace, adorned with red roses symbolizing both beauty and power, Aria unveiled her plan. She spoke of unity, of standing together against a common enemy. The leaders, initially skeptical, were swayed by her passion and the undeniable proof from Perry's log.

As the summit progressed, a shadow fell over Kiyosha. The enemy, known as the Kryll, had learned of the gathering and launched a preemptive strike. Aria, undeterred, led the defense herself, her mask symbolizing her resolve and her heritage.

The battle was fierce, but the newly united forces, inspired by the Empress's leadership, prevailed. The Kryll were driven back, and the galaxy breathed a collective sigh of relief. In the aftermath, the alliances forged in blood and fire held firm, ushering in a new era of cooperation and peace.

Aria Noire, the Veiled Empress, became a legend, her story intertwined with that of Matthew C. Perry. Her mask, once a symbol of mystery, now represented hope and resilience. And so, the legacy of Perry's bold vision continued, shaping the destiny of the galaxy for generations to come.

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

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Doth Not Fear, For Our Future Awaits {Prince Kylo Ren x Reader}

@babbushka:

Happy follower milestone my dear friend!! My prompt idea for your consideration: A medieval AU where reader is a lady in waiting to the Queen at the royal court, and Kylo is the crown prince who is in love with her. They can never be together...or can they? However you'd like to take this, if you decide at all, would be so much fun! xoxoxo :)

author’s notes: hello, hello! I’m baaaaack after a lengthy case of writers block 😩 my dearest friend, my beloved, thank you for this wonderful request!! I’ll be honest, I restarted this about three different times, but I’m very pleased with how this one turned out for you <3 @babbushka

warnings (what you see is what you’ll get!): fluff. forbidden romance/love. passionate kissing. themes of infidelity. use of Shakespearean English. some insults are thrown around.

no tw’s :)

word count: 1.6k

my general taglist peeps! @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman @dirtytissuebox @thepalaceofmelanie @einmal-im-traum kylo’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings @icarusinthesea @lumdelacour @readingreaver @eagerforhoney @trubluepensfan @beachwoodmonet (if you’d like to be added to or removed from any of my taglists, the link to the google form is HERE or at the top of my masterlist.)

[NOT my art/image. full credit to the artist, therealmcgee, and found via Pinterest]

A gentle autumn breeze rustles the masterpiece of dark tresses that sit atop the head of crown prince Kylo Ren, who stands alone in the moonlight-illuminated garden. The birds have ceased their chirps and allowed for the nighttime singers to shine through, crickets and katydids creating a peaceful melody from amongst the grasses.

He stands by the pond, staring down at his gently rippled reflection in the water. A grimace seems to be permanently etched onto his expression whenever he’s in the presence of his overbearing mother or pesky new bride, creating creases in his skin that shall surely remain for the rest of his living days.

As he looks down upon himself under the soft moonlight, he can only see the miserable face of a young man trapped in the cage of a legacy, unable to free himself from the heavy chains of expectation and tradition. Tonight, though, those chains bear an even greater weight for the young royal.

You're all he desires in life, the only thing he wishes to seek out and fight for. Not the kingdom of Alderaan, not his new bride, not even his mother; it’s you. And now, he’s forever bound to the wrong woman, restrained yet again by the rigid ways of his family’s traditions.

What if he no longer wants to be Prince?

A hollow footstep on the stone courtyard startles him from his thoughts and he turns around to gaze upon the intruder of his serene privacy.

“I believeth thy new bride is awaiting that lady marital bedding.”

His expression softens upon the sight of you striding towards him, turning fully around to properly face you as you stand before him. He holds your smaller hands in his much larger ones.

“The lady shalt beest waiting for an eternity, then. I am doubtful of that lady did suppose pureness, if 't be true i am truthful.”

The two of you laugh softly together at his comment.

“I wanteth nay other, Y/N, only thee.”

You offer the crown prince a sad smile. “And I only desire thee, Kylo, but we simply cannot beest together. I am mistress in waiting to thy mother, the queen, and ye art did set to becometh king. 't is 'gainst the laws of the land and we shalt certes beest hanged if 't be true anyone ever did discover our love affair.”

He sighs, forehead pressing against yours as he looks longingly into your eyes. “I wish things wast not this way, yond people couldst beest free to marry for love, not for status or bloodlines.”

“Me too.” You lean into him, bringing your mouth up to hover over his, and his down to meet yours. Warm, gentle wafts of his breath smooth out across your lips and you give a soft whimper in response, pressing yourself further against him. “Telleth me all thee would do to have me as thy bride, Kylo.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper, considering you’re barely able to breathe through your nose by now, with your face practically smashed up against him, but that’s the absolute last thing you give thought to at a moment like this. He opens his mouth and lazily attempts to capture you in a kiss, fingertips pressing harder into your sides.

“Gods, I would doth aught for thee. I would giveth up mine coronet, mine legacy for thy handeth.”

Slowly, your arms slither up around the back of his neck, feeling a familiar heat rising and bubbling in your nether regions. “Telleth me more.”

He’s practically slobbering over you now, so desperate to press his lips unto yours. The hunger surges through him as he pulls you flush against him.

“I would square for thee, square anyone for thy love to belong to only me. I would drop of sorrow mine bloody, beating heart out of mine own chest for thee.”

Your pulse throbs neath your flesh, the upbeat tempo of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You sigh into his open mouth, hand coming up to grab hold of his silky hair.

“Moo.”

Suddenly, he sweeps you up off your feet and instantly presses you against the side of the nearest structure, effectively caging you in with his massive form. He snarls softly, pinning you even further into the wall, forcing a quiet gasp from your lips.

“By gods, Y/N, I would killeth for thee.”

You tighten your grip in his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. He returns the embrace with eager lips, tongue prodding and exploring every cavern of your mouth. His pelvis presses right up against your lower abdomen, rubbing his stiffening length up against you.

“Kylo.” A sigh pushes its way through your pursed lips as Kylo’s head dips down, lips pecking at the taut skin on your neck.

“Did shalt we runneth hence together. I wanteth to declare our love to the kingdom tonight.” His face lights up as he holds yours in his massive hands, smiling. “I’m sick of hiding in the shadows, sick of having to keepeth myself hence from thee.”

You’re riddled with worry over this sudden decision, rubbing the strong upper arms of your lover. “Art thee sure? This idea worries me greatly, mine sweeting. What if 't be true we receiveth did doth catch? They wilt throweth us in the dungeons for sure; our destiny wilt beest but soft decaying down thither until death showeth us mercy.”

“I don’t care. Allow me to prove all I would doth for thy love and for thy handeth, Y/N. I wilt taketh care of thee, I wilt at each moment maketh sure thee hath't everything thee couldst ever needeth and moo. And we wilt beest together, beest free to love one another at last. Who is't cares whither we art or what our fates wilt beest? We can finally beest together without restrictions, punishments or secrecy.” He presses you further up against the wall, lips parallel to your ear. “Mine life isn't worth living if 't be true thou art not by mine side. Wilt thee runneth hence with me?”

Simply just the thought of that makes your stomach go a flutter, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your eyes flicker up to meet his once more, hands cradling his handsomely carved face.

“I trust thee, kylo, thither's few or none will entertain it path thee decideth to taketh; I wilt remain by thy side. If 't be true thee wish to telleth the kingdom, then I wilt telleth those folk 'longside thee. If 't be true thee wish to runneth hence from this lodging, then I wilt runneth with thee.”

Kylo pulls you close for one more embrace, then guides you along back up to the party. Acidic nerves begins to crawl up your throat as the two of you draw nearer and nearer to the bustling ballroom.

Instantly, the Queen rushes over to her estranged son with a frustrated frown on her face. “Whither on earth hath't thee been?! Thy bride hath been by herself all night waiting for thee to returneth!”

He takes your hand. “The lady is not mine bride, mother, not anymore. Y/n is mine bride, and we don't care what everyone thinkest of our forbidden love. I've grown did tire of trying to prithee, of trying to followeth all of the traditions of our family. I wanteth to marry for love, not for the continuation of our lineage, and i intend to doth so with mine beloved.”

Now, people have begun to look onto the unfolding situation, finding it far more interesting than the festivities. Leia’s eyes search her son’s, then flicker over to glare into yours. A shiver swipes down your spine at her gaze of hatred.

“Thee've poisoned mine son. Callet!”

This gets the attention of even more patrons and suddenly, every single set of eyes are focused on where you stand. You wish to simply crumble in this moment, become one with the Earth in order to escape their accusatory stares.

“How dare thee speaketh of mine beloved in such a manner?! Didn't thee heareth what I did doth sayeth? We don't care what thee bethink of us, what any of thee bethink of us. We wilt beest together, coequal if 't be true 't doth take every single moment of mine life to achieve.”

The room is completely still and scarily quiet, not a single shift in position or breath can be heard in this moment. Leia stands up straight to look up into her son’s eyes. “I at each moment did knoweth thee wast nev'r did cullionly to beest in this family. I'm ashamed to hath't thee as a son.”

Patrons begin to stir and an angry unrest drapes itself atop the crowd.

“Throweth those folk in the dungeons!“ One says.

“Death to the coronet prince!“ Another exclaims.

From the very back of the room, another voice pops up. “Traitors!“

Suddenly, Kylo yanks you towards the stairs, breaking out in a full sprint.

“Runneth anon, mine love! We wilt hence!”

Your precious shoes fly off your feet as you run behind him. “Kylo! Mine shoes hath't cometh off! What am I to doth?”

He’s quick to scoop you up and carry you in his arms, breath steadily growing heavier with your added weight. He runs all the way down to the stables and seizes a tacked horse, mounting the perplexed creature swiftly.

“Taketh mine handeth. Doth not fear, for our future awaits, mine beloved.”

With a bright and hopeful smile, you take his hand willingly, the wind catching your hair as rhythmic hoof-falls carry you off to your new life, one you get to spend with the love of your life.

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breeeliss · 4 years

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i heard some people don’t know about the Taang/Kummi theory

So this was originally supposed to be a response to an ask I had gotten about this ATLA theory, but because Read More links on Tumblr asks seem to break once you edit them, I’m reposting so that people can actually see the post lol

For anyone who wasn’t a part of the Toph x Aang LiveJournal fandom in the early 2000s, buckle up, because this bugged me out as a 13 year old.

Remember the end of “The Swamp” (Book 2, Episode 4)? We find out the swamp isn’t haunted, Huu was just protecting it the whole time, and then he explains to Katara, Sokka, and Aang why the swamp is so mystical and sacred.

The swamp is just one big banyan grove tree that’s grown out over miles and miles. All the branches and trees they see are connected because they’re one big breathing organism. And that extends to life as well. We’re all living beings. We all share the same roots. We all are from the same tree, even if we don’t act like it. Everything is connected! Cool stuff.

But when Katara asks what her seeing her mother and what Sokka seeing Yue meant, Huu explains that “in the swamp, we see visions of people we lost, people we’ve loved, folks we think are gone, but the swamp tells us they’re not. We’re still connected to them. Time is an illusion, and so is death.” So Katara never really lost her mother and Sokka never really lost Yue because the connections we make in life transcend death and time. They’re not gone. They’re still a part of us. The swamp reminds us of this.

Now, to keep in theme with this, we probably would’ve expected Aang to also see visions of people he’s lost and loved before (Gyatso, the other Airbenders, his culture, etc.)

But for some reason, Aang sees...Toph. Someone he doesn’t know.

Huu doesn’t really give Aang an explanation for this, he sort of just lets Aang figure it out for himself. And what we’re left is “okay well if time is an illusion and this isn’t someone I’ve made a connection with yet, it’s someone I will make a connection with.” We’re made to accept that as viewers, but why was Aang’s vision so different? Was it really just to lead him in the direction of his Earthbending Master so that he can continue on with his destiny?

Or was it because, unbeknownst to Aang, Toph actually was someone that he had loved and lost before? Just not in this life. In another life. A past life. When he wasn’t Aang, but rather Avatar Kuruk, the Southern Water Tribe Avatar that came before Avatar Kyoshi.

✨Basically the theory is that Toph is one of the reincarnations of Ummi, the southern water tribe woman that fell in love with Avatar Kuruk and had her face tragically stolen by Koh, the Face Stealer.✨

Stay with me, because it gets way deeper.

Who are Kuruk and Ummi you ask?

We formally meet Kuruk during “Sozin’s Comet Part 2: The Old Masters” (Book 3, Episode 19) when Aang is appealing to his past lives for wisdom with regard to what to do with Ozai. Kuruk was a “go with the flow” (lmao) Avatar and sort of just let things play out and it seemed to work for him. He met a girl named Ummi, they fell in love, they were gonna get married, cool.

According to the comic books, Koh I guess was kinda off-put by Kuruk’s arrogance? So as punishment this spirit straight up abducts Ummi on their wedding night and steals her face (ultimately killing her). He blames himself, saying if he’d been more attentive and active he could’ve saved her. He tried to kill Koh out of revenge over it, but could never do so. Koh alludes to this when Aang visits him in “The Siege of the North Part 2″ (Book 1, Episode 20) and shows Aang Ummi’s face. All in all, super tragic.

The Avatar never really “dies.” He’s constantly being reborn. The reason Aang is able to consult his past lives for wisdom is because all of his past lives are him. If the point of the swamp is to get you to understand that death is an illusion, then the swamp understands that the separation between Aang and Kuruk is also an illusion. They’re different people but also the same person all at once. They’re still connected.

So, assuming that Aang was no different from Katara and Sokka and was also seeing people that he’s loved and lost in the past while in the swamp, maybe Toph really is someone he’s met and known before. He just lost and loved her in a past life that neither of them remembers back when they were both completely different people.

But wait, what’s the proof that Ummi is one of Toph’s past lives?

This theory hinges on the assumption that the Avatar isn’t the only one who is capable of being reincarnated. So if you keep with that assumption, there are a few moments highlighted by the theory that connect Toph and Ummi.

The most obvious of which is that Toph is blind. Seeing as how Ummi lost her face when she was a human (and Koh still has it), it would make sense that her future reincarnations would potentially have some kind of loss of their senses attributed to, you know, getting your face ripped off. BUT, another detail that is, in my opinion, a little more interesting is one of Aang’s anxiety nightmares from “Nightmares and Daydreams” (Book 3, Episode 9). Specifically the part of the nightmare where Toph is featured looking like this:

(so creepy ;A;) But why does Toph manifest in Aang’s dream this way, devoid of life and devoid of a face of all things?

This dream that Aang is having is over his anxieties/fears over losing his friends. Sokka, Toph, and Katara all succumb to some sort of horrific end in this dream and Aang is unable to save them. It seems like his anxieties over losing Toph manifested through showing us Toph as a lifeless husk with...no face. Maybe when Aang was having this nightmare, some of the fears and anxieties felt by his previous lives were bleeding in. It would make sense that Kuruk’s greatest anxiety/fear would be losing his loved ones as well, after he failed to protect Ummi from having her face stolen.

And if we assume that Toph actually is Ummi (i.e. a reincarnation that Aang subconsciously remembers), it would make sense that Aang would see Toph standing there in the darkness. Her face stolen. Helpless to save her.

And then in “The Avatar and the Firelord” (Book 3, Episode 6), after learning about Zuko’s lineage and Avatar Roku’s relationship with Sozin, it’s Toph who remarks, “do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?”

It’s interesting that Toph would be the one to ask this. And it’s interesting that Aang is the one that reaches out to hold her hand first and tell him that he doesn’t see why that can’t be possible. Because these connections that transcend lifetimes aren’t limited to just the Avatar. They’re apparent in everyone’s lives, no matter who you are. And the fact that Toph and Aang were able to share that brief moment and give each other that reassurance makes sense if you consider that, several lifetimes ago for them both, they were a lot closer than just mere friends.

And are there other connections between Taang and Kummi?

The theory supports some interesting parallels between Kuruk and Ummi’s relationship and Toph and Aang’s relationship. Kuruk and Aang are very similar in that they both avoided their Avatar duties. Kuruk because of his lackadaisical nature and Aang because he was afraid.

Ummi ultimately ended up being Kuruk’s punishment for not being able break from this passivity and actively pursue his responsibilities as the Avatar. But, by contrast, Toph ended up being Aang’s greatest asset with regard to helping him break from his passivity and learn to face things head on no matter how impossible they may seem.

The Earthbending portion of “Bitter Work” (Book 2, Episode 9) is exclusively about this. Aang is passive by nature, hence why Earthbending is such a hard element for him to master. As Toph so eloquently put: “You had a perform stance, and a perfect form, but when it came right down to it you didn’t have the guts.” The whole episode she’s goading him into being strong and firm. She mercilessly lays into him for not being direct. For being a pushover. For not facing his problems. For not standing up for himself. For being passive. The very thing that was Kuruk’s downfall.

But the pushing works because Toph unlocks something very powerful in him. Toph taught him how to be active. To face his struggles head on. To not flinch before responsibility or danger. That moment where Aang stands up to the moose lion and promises Sokka that he won’t leave him alone (that he will be there to protect him, and he’ll stand staunch in the face of danger) is a really important emotional milestone. It’s a role that’s very different from the one that Katara plays in Aang’s life, but it’s no less important.

Katara has always been someone who cared deeply for Aang’s emotional needs, who understood the reasons why he was afraid, why he wanted to run away, why he wanted to avoid responsibility. But Toph was very much someone who took a much rougher approach to Aang. Because Aang needed it. Because Aang’s inactivity also threatened to be his downfall in this life because it got in the way of him mastering the Earth element. Toph and Aang became a victory instead of a tragedy. Toph wasn’t used as a way to hurt Aang, like Ummi was used to hurt Kuruk. Toph was one of Aang’s greatest sources of strength.

And it was their connection to each other -- their connection that transcended lifetimes -- that brought them back together as friends.

And maybe more if you feel like adding a ship to your repertoire.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #taang #toph beifong #aang #god this was like one big flashback to my youth #how scary #this ended up being so long lmao #but it went DEEP MAN #every shipper thought aang and toph were starcrossed lovers #me included lmao

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riskhunter866 · 3 years

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Sailor Moon Complete Series English Dub Download Torrent

Watch Sailor Moon Crystal Dubbed

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We strive to bring you ALL things Sailor Moon including episode downloads, episode information, music, and much more!Why not join our community forum or come to the IRC channel and support us in our continuous efforts to bring you high quality Sailor Moon content. For more information, please visit the about SMC link. 渾沌の天使 Konton no Tenshi presents layout. Animage is proud to present the latest 2013 revision of the Sailor Moon Complete Series collection dubbed in English audio. Continuing the proud lineage of the diamond series, this premium 34 DVD collection features all five seasons of the hit TV show Sailor Moon as well as the three feature films R, Super and SuperS. I was wondering if someone could help link me to any working torrents they might know about for the subbed Stars season, as well as the english dubs of the original series and R. I've got the first two seasons uncut in japanese, but sometimes I just want to watch the versions from my childhood. All of the above are legal streams that are important to use if we want more of sailor moon in the future.But there are also unofficial streams on certain websites if for some reason you can’t access the above, such as watchsailormoon. Original Anime:-You can stream all episodes either subbed or dubbed HERE.-Another streaming site HERE.

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Sailor Moon

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Sailor Moon and her Sailor Guardians fight to protect the universe from forces of evil and total annihilation.

Created by Naoko Takeuchi | MoreLess about Sailor Moon

SAILOR MOON is the quintessential magical girl phenomenon beloved worldwide that chronicles the adventures of a 14-year-old girl and her friends, chosen by destiny to defeat the forces of evil. Told between two beautiful anime series, SAILOR MOON has become cherished by fans for over 20 years. Sailor Moon Usagi Tsukino is a clumsy but kindhearted teenage girl who transforms into the powerful guardian of love and justice, Sailor Moon. Meeting allies along the way who share similar fates, Usagi and her team of planetary Sailor Guardians fight to protect the universe from forces of evil and total annihilation. Sailor Moon Crystal Based on Naoko Takeuchi’s mega-hit graphic novel series, Sailor Moon Crystal retells the origins of Sailor Moon, the kindhearted crybaby destined to protect the world from dark forces. When the evil Queen Metalia and her Dark Kingdom threatens Earth, Sailor Moon and her fellow Sailor Guardians must find the only power capable of vanquishing this ancient evil—The Legendary Silver Crystal! But a mysterious man calling himself Tuxedo Mask is also after this sacred treasure. What is his connection to Sailor Moon? And will the Sailor Guardians be able to find the Silver Crystal in time before the world falls into eternal darkness?

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lamperette · 4 years

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Avatar au 9

Mastermind zuko part 2 @the-turtleduck-pond

Zuko met up with azula, despite everything he loved her deeply and hoped things she would never be hurt. Since taking the north was his glory he wanted taking the earth kingdom to be her glory.

Their plan was to play the role of enemies zuko would meet up with iroh and continue the role of weak zuko to blindside everyone she would play the role of capturing her pathetic brother and traitor uncle and both would make their way to ba sing se to take it down.

Both had to find their own way in to the city which they did and secretly met up and continue the plan. Zuko wanted her to take over the dai li and capture the earth kings kids (son and daughter) to push another political 'peace' marriage with the son so they would both be married to spouses in control of a nation and 'control 'them effectively having the firenation in control of the nations and by having both kids the earth kingdom wouldn't attack them fearing for their safety.

Zuko pulled back letting her prove herself and perfectly pulling a coup on the city. Zuko continued the role of banished prince working on redemption and in his uncle's tea shop (its basically like the show) until zuko is 'captured' by the dai li and has to make a choice in crossroads of destiny. Aang isnt as badly hurt but had to escape with the earth king and iroh. zuko and azula returned heroes to the firenation and began to prepare for their weddings and the invasion.

Around this time zuko began putting his real plan in action to kill his father. His plan involved turn people.to his side with the promise of rewards and glory and finding those he know wouldn't join him and had to get rid of. On the day of the invasion zuko put it all into action preparing his troops to intercept the invasion and put it on hold and headed to confront his father calling him out for everything revealing his deep hatred for him. Ozai rose to attack zuko but froze seeing his black flames and fell to his knees actually scared for once since he learned the truth of ursa now knowing she taught zuko her ways.

Zuko and ozai fought hurting each other but zuko got the upper hand taking him down just then azula entered. She was shocked but zuko was able to talk to her at first she was against him until he revealed a secret to her. Ozai had told him that he wasn't going to let azula join him as he felt she would do better as a wife and queen than a conqueror in history and was going to claim the earth kingdom defeat for himself. Zuko knew early on about her deteriorating mental health and knew it would break her to her this and he was right.

Azula snapped hearing this not believing he would do something so sexist and finished what zuko started killing ozai. As she did zuko pulled back and played victim as guards (loyal to zuko) rushed in and arrested azula. The invasion is still a few hours away so azula is quickly imprisoned. Zuko comes to speak to her giving her a ultimatum she can join him and rule the firenation together as he wanted from the beginning and he would cover for why she killed ozai or she can refuse and he has her removed from the royal lineage and has to leave the palace for good.

Azula chooses zuko and he embraces her and sends word that ozai had gone crazy and tried to kill him and azula saved him and almost went mad in the fight.

Since he had majority control among the nation this was quickly accepted. Zuko kept his promises and liquidity assets of people not loyal to him and had them removed from power on 'suspicion of traitorous acts' and appointing his people in their place and paying those who wanted money and those who wanted other things like a permanent house on ember island.

Zuko explained he wanted a marriage agreement to bring peace to the nations not control which confused azula who still believes love is weak and he explains that fear can control but sooner or later that fear goes away but love and kindness are forever.

Yue and his engagement is only to stop the war for the firenation and watertribe giving her power to bring a new era and her her marriage to the earth prince is the same. Essentially he wanted to get rid of the old leader and bring new ones with new perspective.

He does mention if she refused he had a backup plan of marrying the earth princess having a bit of a harem but is happy he didnt have to.

The invasion is about to begin so instead they wait in the palace throne room with their spouses at their sides when aang arrives. Zuko tell him that he failed that he failed to do his job so they ended the war. Sokka and allies arrives saying basically everyone stood down, sokka is happy to see yue and is ready to fight for her when they begin to explain sokka is hurt but is happy yue is safe.

Zuko and azula promise to end the war on their cornanation day zuko would take majority control until shes older and mentally better and the marriage between her and the earth prince would be in a few earth as both are young and be called engaged to marry in a few years.

The war is ended azula and zuko are firelord, zuko and yue married, the and sokka decided it wouldn't work as he was growing close with suki and wasn't ok with the arrangement. Aang felt ashamed but there wasn't much he could do but help to keep peace. Iroh was shocked about the true zuko but comes to term with it.

Many were shocked at this outcome but were too scared to challenge the two firelord who work with there partners to bring a new era love love and peace to the world.

#avatar the last airbender #avatar: tla #iroh & zuko #zuko fanfic #zuko and ozai #zuko and azula #assassin zuko #forbbiden zuko #ozai a+ parenting #the turtleduck pond

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telleroftales-blog · 4 years

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Perit, She Who Sculpted The Earth

In the age of Dardanus, father of all, of the gods It was decreed the word which would become law She who perched her nest high atop Tomor mountain Among those who claimed descent from the Eagle Must seek the spirit of the mountain, queen of the rocks That all who would seek to rule the land and their children For without her blessing all the desires and dreams of Man... Zana be her name, the all powerful, the very soul of the land She Zana, spirit of the mountains and the hills With Ora of the lakes and rivers, streams and waterfalls... Without her blessing all endeavor would certainly fail As a horse might falter slipping on a rock Watching over the terrain, it was they who guided Perit She, who did flatten the plains, allowing the fire From within the earth to belch forth Her forge and bellows for her handiwork Did she carved the river gorges and shaped The mighty mountain peaks, the inner caves of the Earth To hide the gems and precious stones for a future day To the lowland swamps where men plowed the fertile fields To gain of their sustenance, toiling daily Thus she formed volcanoes, and also the hot springs Of boiling water, the smell of sulphur ever present Fermented by the mud and dirt cast down from high places After years of toil and sweat carving the Earth as we know it

Perit rested, sweaty now and panting from exhaustion Lonely now, she desired company... For she was alone and the silence was far too much for her So she separated her male half from her female side For she was of two genders, the right and the left The male and the female powerfully intertwined as one And thus she created Man, whom she named Burri A companion and accomplice, in love and harmony Did the two dwell together Perit was a goddess of action and will She gave to Burri all that he desired and needed In joy and in ecstasy did she proclaim her deed... “I brought ye here, therefore it is I who must provide for you Ask and ye shall receive, for thou art my companion I shall be here for you always, my love and my soul As we both will dwell in this place together, happily The carved mountains and valleys, the gouged river gorges This place which I have created with my arms and muscle That give a path of relief to the raging waters From the heavens above, all this I share with you" One day Perit gave birth to a baby girl And the couple were overjoyed Her name was Bija, a child of light with precious eyes Perit and Burri were happy and they celebrated For many years, day after day they partook of the dance of life Singing unto the spirits of the mountains and rivers A song most joyous and happy Until the day of darkness arrived.... The day that their daughter Bija became a maiden, a woman Her eyes were full and bright like the Moon now Burri eyed his daughter with evil intent, with a lustful heart Her figure shapely, her breasts ample, her curves inviting Burri, not knowing work, the skills of the hunt or seeking sustenance Knew not the responsibility of maintaining life and property He fell prey to his inner lust, the call to damnation One day as Perit was out hunting, seeking rabbits for food But she didn’t have difficulty finding game Nor did she need to seek and stalk this time, as she always did For a lone hare came to her, and told her prophecy- “Accept me as thy sacrifice, for today your life will change Throw thy spear surely into my heart, for on this day You too shall be wounded deeply This is the price you must pay for daring to imagine That ye could create anything on your own Thou has carved the rocks and cleared the forests Rendering them into plains and fields And into mighty mountain ranges that encircle the seas Oh goddess, hast thou not heard the cries of pain From those trees and stones as ye cut and forged them? When ye thought to render them to your own desires? There is a price for everything you touch There is a price for living, a price for even being alive" Perit could not fully comprehend what the hare Was trying to say, thinking these words a ploy To ward off impending death at the throw of her lance To escape his fate which awaited him She Perit, spoke- “Think thou not that thy words might spare ye, oh grey hare I shall slay ye and eat of thy flesh, yes I and my Man, and my child, for we must endure Survival is the way of the living, not the dead Thy flesh will taste sweet when it roasted over an open fire This is my world, my land, and thou art but an inhabitant You have a home due to my carving of the rocks Into mountains and valleys have I rendered them Be still, as your death will be swift indeed" And with that she cast her spear with all her might It entered the hare’s chest and protruded from it’s other side The animal closed it's eyes and died in an instant Perit carried her motionless catch on her back She brought it home where she was to prepare a fire So as to cook her prize to feast upon that very evening But as she gathered some wood for the fire To her amazement she heard human cries and moans Coming from behind a great rock She went to investigate and witnessed the unthinkable The unimaginable, the greatest impossibility... There was Burri, mounted atop his daughter, Bija Engaged was he in a most lewd act Bija was crying and screaming, and resisted his advances Having scratched and bit at her father’s face In an attempt at defense The bloody marks upon his visage were evidence Of her attempt to ward him off But she was powerless to resist his muscular strength Which pinned her as a lion pins a gazelle And he continued his savage thrusts amid her cries Unaware of Perit’s arrival he continued Deaf to her approach, blind to all awareness Due to the state of lust he had entered into Perit, enraged at this betrayal, came to the aid of her daughter And firmly took hold of Burri’s legs And in the throes of her anger she, with all her force Threw him over the rock, over the mountains Where he landed forcibly in some lonesome valley However, poor Bija, so enwrapped tightly as she was Caught within his mighty embrace That she too was accidentally thrown along with him Burri landed on the soft side of a riverbed But the beautiful daughter had fallen now from his grasp And fell to her death in the chasm below Her mangled body now crushed, ripped and bloodied Lying upon the rocks forged by Perit’s own handiwork Perit stood silent on the cliff’s edge, unable to speak Tears filled her eyes but she was unable to look down below Into the valley where her beloved daughter lay Her body motionless and still, once breathing now dead Perit was in a state of shock and disbelief Still not able to understand what had just occurred, or why Now she began to contemplate the prophecy of the hare who informed her That as he would be wounded by her spear so she would be as well... Death for a death, a deed for a deed, this is the law of life She took a deep breath and let out a great moan Like that of a wounded she bear Or as a wolf howling at the Moon on a cold Winter’s night After she was able to compose herself, the great Perit called out to Burri from atop the mountain home that was once his Given in love, joy and generosity Perit cried out in a stern voice that echoed across the valley- “Be it known that thou hast broken my trust Oh wretched man! What a despicable act you have committed With all that I have done for you! Never will you dwell here with me again And you shall live out your days In that lonely valley, with snakes and scorpions As companions and friends From this day forth, let there be a solemn word for all Who enter into an agreement The solemn word shall be called Besa, a sacred oath Of loyalty and fealty And let there be death for those who dare to break this word A thousand curses on those who break the Besa Upon them and all their families For a thousand years, until their name and memory Is wiped from the Earth, forever Thou hast broken my heart Until now did I think myself immortal I shall live out my years here alone, until the day I pass From this miserable existence Once again is the dominion of the Earth returned To the great spirits of the mountains and the lakes Praise be to Zana and Ora! Who will watch over the land and the people Never granting power to tyrants and evil doers Reminding all that we are powerless For our existence is but a dream The land survives, that which I carved with The muscle of my arms and the sweat of my brow... The mountains, the river gorges, the plains The rocky shores, all of it All there for the future generations, to live upon Or to make war upon each other As humans see fit, as men will see fit For men will surely destroy this world Though they be created of women, they are The breakers of trust and the greediest of beings May all their doings be cursed with vagueness And their work regarded with much suspicion” Perit ordered some eagles to fetch The broken body of her abused daughter And bring it back to her proximity When they returned she clutched Bija tightly Kissing her forehead repeatedly Rocking her lifeless body to and fro As she did when she was an infant in her arms Blending her tears with her daughter’s now bloodied face Singing in monotones that song which would become known as vajtim The chant of the dead... “Oh my dream, my vision, where have ye flown? Innocent one, ‘tis I who brought you into this world And I who dared to think I could create your destiny Nor will you carry on my lineage Never will you embrace the arms of a lover Never will you know the joy of the hunt The pleasant song of birds are not for your ears Or the sound of fish splashing about in the rivers Forgive me, for it was out of love and need that I acted Fooled and tricked by the man I created for my own desires The old hare was correct, there is a price for everything in this life…the hare paid this price with his... I pay with the life of my daughter! I damn this creation which I alone have brought forth Woe is me and mine, forever, woe unto me and mine For what we have done!” Then she Perit once again stood on the precipice And called out to all the world- “From this day forth let it be known To all the descendants of generations to come For any of you to be a ruler among the nations and the tribes Know that they must come to this mountain And seek the guidance of the great spirits Zana and Ora Who will surely test them as to their dedication And as to their truthfulness And if these would-be chiefs are proved worthy They will be granted their blessing If they are proven not worthy Let them be cast down into the chasm below Their crushed bodies a reminder of My own poor Bija’s crushed body Which lay there alone and innocent Her young blood mingling with the river's flow For those who pass the test of Zana and Ora They who rise forth to take command of the clans And lead their people to victory Let their lives be a story recounted when they die So that when they leave you, sing of their glories Or sing then of their evil deeds So all will know who they were and what they did in life Sing the vajtim and sing it loudly! This will be a warning that would insure They live a life of noble gratitude and justice Rather than one of trickery, evil doings and lust” These last commandments were thus delivered Echoing in the valley until the coming of men Citing that all beings will do what they see fit in their time Though humans have no knowledge of what the future may hold or how one’s actions will affect others on the morrow Perit looked up at the mountain peak where Zana and Ora Dwelled among the clouds that enshrouded these mountains She asked for their forgiveness, to which they gave With that Perit closed her eyes and without hesitation Leapt from the cliff, plunging into the valley below Her blood and her being blended with the fast moving river The violently churning waters became now Like the foam and bubbles produced by Those helpless unfortunates drowning, thrashing about To save their own lives… Thus the swiftly flowing water became known for all time As Lum i Shkumbi, the River of Foam How foolish then, are the created ones? Those beings, all of them, Men and Beasts Born into this prison of existence Nothing can be done about our situation As we have no choice in the matter No chest of gold or silver will deliver us from our destiny There is a price we pay to be alive, to be, costly indeed For the very experience of living But to live accordingly, with honor and dignity With the knowledge of trust and law This is what helps the pain of the reality So we can pass on to our children our stories They who will dwell in a realm we can never hope to see... That we might be remembered one day by those Who come after us, who will tell our stories and recite our tales… In the realm of multiple tomorrows

#illyrian ancientmythology ancientbalkans creationmyths albania folklore

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ohvalleyofplentyyy · 5 years

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Merlin’s Blood - Chapter 3

masterlist

ch.1 ch.2

Chapter 3: A Memory

Okay so I can either let the Bard drown and the Witcher die from water in his lungs… or save them.

Gross.

“Help! Oh please have mercy on me gods above! I’ll be good I promise, I’ll, I’ll pick up trash with I see it, I’ll pay for beer next time Geralt and I are at a pub! I’ll change my underwear daily—“

“Okay please stop I don’t need to know any more details about that!”

“AHH!”

Jaskier’s grip slipped as your voice surprised him but he clung onto the log for dear life again. He looked relieved to see you but then his face dropped. “Y/N you need to get out of here! I mean, putting me on the bank would be helpful but I don’t know when Geralt will wake up and… I don’t want him to do something he’ll regret.”

You moved your hand across the top of the water, dipping only your index and middle finger into the liquid. His shirt detached from whatever it was caught on and he started flowing downstream on the log. You then waved your arm and the current turned him to the bank. He climbed up onto the shore, panting from all the swimming.

“Alright,” you turned to leave but stopped and let out a big breath, “hold on, one more thing.”

You walked off the water and over to Geralt, Jaskier started crawling faster over, as if trying to block your path.

“Relax, I’m not going to kill him.”

Even though I should, but mom would never forgive me.

“Darling! What on Earth are you doing to the curtains?!” Your mother came rushing into the library, catching 9 year old you staring in terror and embarrassment at the satin curtains that were now on fire. “Mommy! I didn’t mean to! Rhean was teasing me about my lineage and I—“

Rhean was your older brother, well, adoptive older brother. His family and the kingdom he was from perished in a horrible war with the neighboring kingdom. The king was your father’s best friend and they had both made a vow that if something happened to the other, they would take in their children as their own.

You were only two when this happened and since you were the only child your parents ever had (i.e no boys) your father decided that it would be easier to just pass the throne to him.

Your mother had fought for you but in the end, to quote your dad, ‘it might be easier to just have a human rule a human kingdom instead of… whatever she is.’

Yeah, ouch.

Rhean, once he was old enough to understand that he would become king, made it his destiny to torture you with the fact that you had been passed up to rule and he was going to be in charge. You didn’t know why he punished you, maybe because of the fact that he had no family?

Honestly, it didn’t matter cause in the end, he died.

Your mother wrapped her arms around you and moved her right hand down in a straight line, ceasing the fire that raged in the room full of books. “It’s alright darling, look everything is back to normal.” You sniffled, “I’m not normal.”

She smiled sweetly at you but with a bit of sadness behind it. But you didn’t notice, you were 9 and the most important thing to you in that moment was what would happen to the now ruined curtains.

“It’s good to not be normal, being normal would be boring, you’d be like everyone else.” The queen picked you up and carried you up to your room, leaving a few maids to deal with the curtains.

Once in your room, your mother and you sat on the bed, looking out of the window watching the stars twinkle in the edge of evening. “Mommy, what’s Rhean always teasing me about? I’ve looked through almost all the books we have here but I can’t find any answers. What’s the matter with my lineage?” She took your hands in hers, “There’s nothing wrong with our bloodline, it’s just different from others and that makes them scared.”

You climbed farther up on the bed and wrapped your arms around your tiny kid legs, “How does Rhean know more about it than me?” “Your father thought that it would be better if the,” she swallowed, “future king knew about our… abilities.”

You scoffed, “He’s not the rightful heir, but he’s been chosen to precede father, how is that fair.”

She continued, “Y/N I need you to know that you are very powerful. Forget anything that Rhean says, just believe in yourself and be careful who you tell things to, the important things.”

She climbed up next to you snuggling down into the comforter. “The important things?” You questioned. “People can be cruel, you have a magic that some could only wish to imagine. Don’t tell anyone what you can do, unless you’re sure.”

“Okay Mommy.”

You moved both your hands each one starting from the top to the bottom, creating a circle. Then you moved both hands up, index fingers pointing at Geralt. Immediately he started coughing up water.

“Alright, since I just saved the man who wants to kill me, I’m going to leave and try to get a head start.” You turned to leave when the white-haired man rasped, “Wait.”

“Why should I?” You exclaimed, whipping around to see the two companions propped up against a tree. “Because I want to know if you know this name.” You crossed your arms, “Okay, shoot.”

“Nheanr.”

You searched your mind, eyebrows scrunched together.

Nheanr?

Doesn’t ring a bell. Hm.

“Nope, sorry. Can I go now?” The Witcher stood up on jelly legs, grumbling incoherent words to himself. Quickly, you moved into a defensive stance not knowing if he was tricking you or not. Moving your hands out to the water, you made an icicle form and come float at your side, pointed and ready to strike.

“I’ve decided not to kill you.”

You made a sarcastic grin at him, “Gee thanks, what a relief.” Jaskier now staggered up and walked between you. “Alright, so Geralt has said he means no harm, can you lower the ice dagger please?” You shot him a look, “You really think I’m going to believe him?”

The tall man leaned against the tree, “Why would someone be trying to kill you?” He said. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “Hmm, I wonder why someone who wants to kill a person powerful enough to wipe out an entire order of mages and start a dictatorship over the entire continent.” The musician scrunched his face, “she’s got a point there.”

“Well whoever they are, they seem pretty determined to take your bloodline out.” You sighed, slightly lowering the icicle, causing Jaskier to let out a small breathe of relief.

“I just don’t know who has the records to know who’s a descendant and who isn’t, the books of my family tree were burned so long ago to keep us safe.” “Well, apparently some knowledge of your abilities didn’t go up in flames.”

You laughed and sunk into your left hip, dropping the hold on your dagger and propping your hand on your right hip. “You think?”

Time is of the essence, I need to go.

“I guess thanks for deciding to not kill me but I gotta go—“ “Wait!” Before you could teleport to anywhere but there, the bard shouted out. You looked at him, hand in position to leave, “What?” He shrugged his shoulders and walked over to Geralt, suspiciously mouthing something to him with his back turned you determined from the change in the Witcher’s face. He, with all his strength it looked like, wrapping an arm around the grumbling man and pulling him over to you.

“Why don’t we accompany you?”

You can never get things done simply can you Y/N?

You chuckled and started walking away, “Sorry boys I don’t feel like babysitting while on the run for my life.”

At your statement, the Witcher seemed to gain a bit of confidence and snapped back, “What do you mean babysit?” The two travel companions started following you into the forest, decidedly leaving the flooded river behind. You sighed and slowed your pace to walk between them.

“Didn’t I just save your life back there?” “Actually—“ “And didn’t I get your precious bard out of danger in that town— “Hey I was helping you—“ “Didn’t I have to take over the reins of, what’s his name, Roach?” At that statement, Geralt cackled surprisingly. “You never mentioned that Jaskier.” The musician now was a lovely shade of pink.

“Speaking of, where is your horse?” “Traded him for extra money I’ll get him later.” You raised an eyebrow at the odd statement but let it go, seeing as it wasn’t the strangest thing about this whole ordeal.

“Alright so where are we going, any plan?” Jaskier asked.

You bit the inside of your lip, debating if you could tell them your emergency idea you were thinking about the moment you watched that arrow embed itself in Branson. “Yeah, sort of.”

“Go on then, what’s the first step on this journey?”

“I’m going to find Merlin’s Tomb.”

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#geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt x reader #the witcher jaskier #geralt x jaskier x reader #jaskier x reader #jaskier #the witcher geralt #merlin #the witcher fanfic #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #plentyyywrites #oh valley of plenty

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misssunflowersandsangria · 4 years

Text

Stolen

Chapter 1: The Kiss

Hello my deers! I hope that you’re not tired of me! Lol I’ve been wanting to push myself as a writer so this a small departure from my usual fluffy fics. The fluff and romance is still there. I do hope that you enjoy what I have for you!

Summary: It was her wedding day. For most people that would be a joyous celebration. In Temari’s case, she was a dethroned Princess forced to marry the man that slaughtered her brothers and took over her homeland. The day was set. The bride, the groom, and the man that would inevitably steal her heart.

Temari glanced at her reflection in the dingy mirror. Her once piercing teal eyes were clouded over with a kind of grief that the pounds of makeup couldn’t hide. The crown on her head felt heavy along with the elaborate wedding robes she wore. As a child, she never envisioned her wedding day, but if she had this certainly wasn’t it.

A dethroned princess set to marry the man that had killed her brothers and claimed her homeland. This marriage was the last step in securing his place as the Kazekage.

The coup d’etat had caught them by surprise. After Gaara had been installed as the Kazekage they knew that dissent had remained but she and her brothers could have never conceived this. The few people loyal to their side had been slaughtered in the streets. Despite how valiantly they fought her brothers fell as well. She squeezed her eyes shut as the memory replayed in her mind.

She fought as long as she could but was not a match for the cruel military he’d amassed. She was willing to die alongside her countrymen and for her home but in a cruel twist of fate their “leader” had taken an interest in her. Claiming that he’d done all of this for her. She’d become his sort of sick obsession. He decreed that they were to be married. He claimed it was the way to legitimately take the throne of Kazekage. To show himself the true leader of Suna. It was just another cruel show of power. To prove that he’d destroyed any and all traces of their lineage and authority.

At first, he tried to “woo” her with gifts and sweet words. Promises of a beautiful future together. She rebuffed any and all attempts each time sending him into a spiraling rage.

Each day she tried to escape. Whether that was dead or alive, it didn’t matter. But he was nothing if not smart. He ensured that she was without a weapon and under constant surveillance. Every time she tried to leave they’d beat her within almost an inch of her life. Shadowy figures that did all they could to break her spirit along with her body. Despite how broken and bruised they left her she refused to completely give in. Once she was healed enough she would try again the next day. She was born a warrior and refused to go down without a fight. She would only leave this Earth on her terms.

Even now on the day of her wedding. The day that she would truly be left with nothing. She refused to cry. As cruel as their taunts were and as broken her body was she refused to let them see her sorrow. She didn’t know if tears were possible in the desert.

“Princess Temari.” She stood up with one last glance. A farewell to who she was at one time unable to avoid her destiny for any longer.

The hall was filled with people from Suna and beyond. Some familiar faces that she believed at one time to be her friends and allies. Her fiancé stood at the altar. The familiar cruel smile etched across his face. The same one that he wore when he callously murdered the people closest to her.

She swallowed back the bile that appeared in her throat pushing her shoulders back. Her head was held high refusing to shrink under the evil gazes sent her way. She was the last of the Sand Siblings. The last of the family line that had ruled Suna since it’s beginning. He had taken everything from her but her pride still remained. She was meant to survive. Despite what they believed she was still Suna’s Princess. She would find a way.

Temari took his clammy claw in her hand. She was sure that to the crowd watching they were the picture of wedded bliss as the minister began. She wondered if those who came from far away knew what was actually happening. If they even cared at all.

The voice droned on as she imagined a much different life. Perhaps a wedding where she was a willing participant. Her brothers would be there supporting her looking on with joy. She would be surrounded by her friends and people that loved her. Her handsome fiancé promising to love her for all their lives. What a beautiful life she could have had.

As the officiant moved into the vows confusion erupted all around her. Shouts rang while weapons whirled through the air as bodies dropped. In the chaos, her ears focused on one voice above all the rest. Soothing and smoky it directed the hidden shinobis.

She glanced down seeing that next to her, her fiancé was paralyzed, wrapped in shadows forced to watch his stolen empire fall.

“You’re not who I was expecting at all.” That one distinct voice addressed her.

Temari’s eyes met dark ones staring at her with a sort of softness and amusement. His lips were curved into a smirk and it was the kindest look that she’d received in months. His hair was pulled to the top of his head while his hands formed the symbols needed to keep up his jutsu. She peered at him confused recognizing a familiar symbol.

“You’re from the Leaf?”

“Yes.”

This only drew more questions and confusion. “Why are you here? Who are you?”

“I’m a friend, Princess.” He assured her while the chaos continued around them. And she believed him. Her last glimmer of hope was attached to this unknown ninja from the Leaf.

“I will fucking kill you!” She heard her betrothed threaten.

“Shut up, We’re talking.” The unnamed shinobi demanded. The shadows wrapped around his throat tighter.

“Here, this might convince you.” Surprising her he handed her a familiar metal item. Her hands lifted to her mouth in shock tears emerging in her eyes.

“Your brothers are alive and they’re waiting for you.” Her fingers traced over the familiar item. It was a secret between her siblings. They each had a piece of the puzzle that when they all came together formed the symbol of the Kazekage family. It was something that they had with them since they were children. Even now she had hers carefully hidden on her.

They were alive.

“We need to get out of here but first, let’s deal with your dear fiancé. I assume you have no attachments to him so you’d have no objections to killing him.” Temari’s eyes gleamed seeing the man that had made her life a living hell for months on his knees begging and pleading for his life. Even as they beat her she never once looked as pathetic as he did.

She grinned cruelly before turning to the Leaf Shinobi.

“What’s your name?”

“Shikamaru Nara.”

“Nice to meet you. Is your jutsu solid?”

“He’s not getting away. I have shinobi covering this building so no one will be able to get inside either.”

“Good.” Before he could ask any more questions she pulled him into a deep kiss. Her hands ran up through his hair pulling him flush against her body. Shikamaru was frozen in surprise before a hand rubbed up and down her spine falling into the kiss. It felt like being hit by electricity. A blissful moment in time among dead bodies and carnage.

They vaguely recognized repressed screams and desperate attempts to be freed.

“Shikamaru…” Temari breathed against his lips her arms wrapped around his neck

“Yes, Princess?”

“Please do the honors.”

Temari held tightly onto Shikamaru as the shadows tightened. She watched the life fade from her fiancé’s eyes. The darkness that was drowning her going along with it. When his body hit the ground the invisible chain around her neck fell too and she could breathe again.

She breathed in Shikamaru’s comforting scent of pine trees and smoke before resting her face against his neck. He held her silently feeling her warm tears against his skin. They needed to get out of there but she needed his comfort more. The feeling of her warm lips was still present on his own. Instinctively he pressed a soft kiss against her temple.

“I’m here Princess. The shadows won’t hurt you anymore.” Her arms clutched tighter around him as she finally allowed herself a brief moment to fall apart. Trusting that he’d hold her together.

She took a step back trying to regain her composure and ignore the fact that she missed his comfort and warmth. Never once had she cried so openly.

Her shoulders sagged as the weight of what had just occurred in mere minutes set in. She imagined that the day that his life was taken she would erupt into a joyous dance. Right now seeing the devastation all around her rained down the enormity of the situation.

“What now?”

Shikamaru took her hand in his squeezing it tightly. Wanting her to see him as a lifeline to clutch onto for now. “I’m taking you to the Leaf where we’ll meet up with your brothers. We’re going to have to fight our way out of here so this might help.”

He pulled out a scroll and from it, a familiar weapon came. The weight of her tessen in her hand was like embracing an old friend.

She opened it up wide and the wind around her began to swirl. Shikamaru just gazed at her in awe. When he’d first seen her she looked like a broken porcelain doll. Now she was the vision of ferocity. The famed Princess of Suna and the mistress of the wind.

“Ready Princess?” He asked with that now comforting smirk.

She nodded with a grin. She was ready. For a new life, new chances and new possibilities. Her eyes blazed with renewed determination.

“Let’s go.”

Thanks for reading loves! I have so many WIPs but sometimes there are stories that grab a hold of you and won’t let you go till you write them. This is one of them. I was originally going to keep it to myself but I wanted to share it and hope that you enjoy it as well.

It won’t be too long, I have a general idea where I want it to go.

I do have the next chapter pretty much done. I won’t hold it hostage for too long. So chapter two will be out soon. I’ve got a bunch of smutty one-shots in the works too for my Lemonade series. This story will probably have at least one chapter with some fun stuff too.

Thanks for reading and giving the story a chance. I appreciate you reading and any kudos/comments!

Love you all!

#shikatema #shikatem #shikamaru x temari #temari #princess temari #shikamaru nara #fanfic

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theholycovenantrpg · 4 years

Photo

CONGRATULATIONS, ALI! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF ORIAS.

Admin Cas: Ugh, there’s so much I loved about your application, Ali. Orias is a tricky nut to crack, I think, because it would be easy to mistake their desire for worship as a desire for power, or their want of a legacy for sovereignty, but you didn’t. Their magic and incantations are such an important part of who they are — in fact, it’s the very essence of them — and you didn’t shy away from that. I think what particularly impressed me was the way that you weaved together all their separate motivations and related them to their status as the Vice of Greed: you said it best yourself, although Orias takes and takes and takes, they are also always building. I genuinely can’t wait to see what you do with our self-proclaimed False Prophet! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Ali.

Age | 23.

Personal Pronouns | She/her.

Activity Level | 5/10. I’m finishing up my last year of nursing school so there’s certainly days where I need to buckle down and focus. My lectures and clinical hours also happen to be quite long, so I’ll most likely pop up around the nighttime.

Timezone | EST.

Triggers | REMOVED.

How did you find the group? | It was whispered to me in my sleep (Rosey gave me a lil’ rec).

Current/Past RP Accounts | Insert ‘it’s been 84 years’ meme here.

IN CHARACTER

Character | Orias.

What future plots do you have in mind for the character? |

I. THOU CHOSE TO FEED THY DEMONS.

Greed, as fitting as it is, has made Orias insatiable above all else. Their heedful, yet steady rise to conquer a sense of blood-curdling worship, succession, and power is absolutely inevitable. Whether it’s by a cunning, violent force of hand or simply mere influence among distant, anguished wanderers, Orias has lived enough lives to know where they stand among a world full of futile creatures – or so they believe. I love the idea of Orias acknowledging the strength and power they hold between bared teeth and nimble fingertips. The idea of them feeding into that thought, turning a slight nose up at the inconsequentiality of their fellow demons, angels, and gifted mortals. In their own sense of the word, they are some sort of God and they’ll be gaped at as if they were one – whether you condemn the thought of their depraved divinity or not. I’m interested to explore how far their greed pushes them into believing they can modestly oversee all factions with the intent of enforcing the certainty of their future, heredity, dark sorcery, and lineage onto all beings. What will they give up in return for bleeding, unwavering worship? Will they ever be fully satiated? How callously will they tip toe the line of thunderous, earth-shattering power? Who will they decide to turn away from in the process – especially when no one is keeping a close eye on their every waking gesture? Will they succeed? Or will they fall just like Lucifer once had? Only time will tell.

II. THOU CHOSE INSATIABLE GREED ABOVE ALL ELSE.

When Lucifer had fallen from his own grace, Orias knew what they must do in order to continue their destiny, their succession, and everything in between. It took nearly little to no thought when they began to pry pieces of themself from the flesh of his skin – from the very carved bones of his ribs. You must carry on, as you were always meant to do, they thought. And that is exactly what they did, as they carried their invocations and prophecies under granite-grey feathers and silver veils. Now, don’t be so foolish. If Orias was able to look at the fall of Lucifer as a mere inconvenience to their overall plan, why would it not be the same for Damien?

I want to explore and test the idea of Orias’ loyalty to Damien (as well as the other Vices) for the sole fact that he is the Leader of the Vices. A title they do not believe he should be able to harness for as long as he lives – a title they believe could belong to them. To Judas. It is an idea that could potentially further ensure their destiny – a position that would bleed into the pages of their legacy, along with all of their ink-stained balms and primordial secrets. If woven correctly (and approved by Judas’ and Damien’s mun, as well as the admins), this could potentially be a piece to the puzzle of their character arc. In this, I would want to explore the probability of Orias gradually turning their back on Damien and the Vices as a whole. The manipulativeness behind their biting, eloquent syllables as they speak cunningly ill of his leadership to others. Perhaps Orias even convinces Judas that the two of them could rule in equal measure – that they could promise to take the Realm of Infernum to beautiful, earth-shattering heights and smother the idea of Damien’s iron-clad God complex (and maybe – just maybe Orias fucks over Judas in the process). And all but bone-achingly slow, Orias sinks Damien’s stature a little further. To get to this point, Orias knows that they must be weary of Abaddon, Judas, and Azazel – that they must study Damien and play the part of an abiding, loyal Vice, whether they’re able to execute the will of their leader or not. But alas, Orias awaits the vision that depicts his downfall – whether it is by their force of hand or not.

Overall, I want to ensure and promise adaptability on my end when plotting with other muns. I’m wholeheartedly open to changing/altering anything mentioned – I’m even more open to Orias failing miserably, considering how tightly woven Abaddon, Judas, Azazel, and Damien are. I’m very much just interested in developing and exploring their subtle ruthlessness, gilded serpent-like ways, and sheer manipulativeness behind all covetous actions – no matter the outcome.

III. THOU CHOSE WAVERING COMPANIONSHIP.

As much as they wield their witchcraft and gape at unexpecting, anguished wanderers for some sort of promised lineage in return, it rings true that Orias has never expected anything from Azazel. I would love to explore the overall theme of this dynamic considering that Orias has never really seemed to love anything at all – nor have they granted another being without a heavy price. To have a creature of Orias’ extent love you so deeply, so openly, so raw – it’s dangerous. I so badly want to tap into that side of them, even if it’s just for a quiet moment in time. You see all of the greed, the give-and-take, the tug-and-pull – but you never see the honest grit and rose-tinted tears that go into protecting someone so fiercely. For someone that is so used to taking without caution, how does this meld into everything they’ve ever known? Will their loyalty to each other face as a haunting barrier (I would love to explore the extent of their loyalty – perhaps even test how far they would be willing to go for each other considering Orias has never quite remained loyal to anything)? Would Orias’ biting love for Azazel take precedence over their desire for heredity? For a legacy? For worship and a nearly promised destiny? And if something ever happened to Azazel, would Orias burn everything to the ground? Or would they pry the shattered pieces of themself from her ribcage just like they had once done with Lucifer? And in retrospect, would they guard Azazel the same way if they knew she may not even be able to burn her very own kingdom for them?

I’m really so interested to see how Orias molds to this connection. The initial rise as they climb over clambered skeletons to reach a state of absolute influence and raw worship – will they bring Azazel along and respect her own vocations? Will they clutch onto the first creature that has made them feel full and so devoutly satiated? Or will they forget where their loyalties lie and extinguish the splintering fire that Azazel has pitted in their core?

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If it was detrimental to the flow of the plot then absolutely.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | What motivates your character’s actions? How does it define them? Where does this motivation stem from?

It starts with Lucifer, clutches to Judas, sinks its bared teeth into the flesh of the Vices – but always ends with them. At large, there are a multitude of staples that contribute to Orias’ actions. As beautiful and as wickedly raw as they are, nothing that comes from their steady hand is sincere – and everything they offer the Holy Land is all but a mockery. Each passing conversation, each calculating glance, each faux notion – it’s all woven from the extenuating pillars they have built upon.

The entirety of their driving motivation seems to inhabit the notions of sacrilegious “greed”, divine “worship”, a bleeding sense of “power”, and a promised “lineage”. Whispered at the sky, the moon, and the stars, it is believed that this is all but what truly keeps the feathers of their wings stirring across the holiest of lands. Never their fellow creatures, never the Realm of Infernum, never any external force – but the outwardly prominent self-factors that dare to devour them whole.

Interestingly enough, I also believe that Orias is motivated by their abilities (the power they harness, the ability to receive something promising in exchange for it, etc.) – prognostications, incantations, the subtle but forceful touch of a wicked alchemist. They’re very much aware of their potential as the Original Witch and in turn, I think somewhat of a God complex, as well as festering greed, became a main driving force for them. It’s also no secret that Orias is convinced they’re meant to leave a blistering mark on everything they touch – and for a heavy price. Because if they weren’t, why would they be granted such heady capabilities?

To sum this absolute mess up, Orias was never brought into this world to want or need anything besides things that contributed to their own personal gain – worship (whether it’s honest or not), a molded destiny, and a warm body to carry all of their new rites and tomes (a very one-track mind if you will). So, these outright motivations, goals, desires – it all derived from their wants, their needs, their abilities and I truly believe that’s what makes them such an unwavering force (as well as extremely selfish).

Character Traits | OPTIONAL. Please list 3 positive traits and 3 negative traits that you identify in the character you’re applying for.

Positive – Calculating, Influential, Authoritative, Meticulous, Entrancing.

Negative – Insatiable, Patronizing, Egocentric, Despotic, Duplicitous.

In-Character Para Sample | There is no minimum or maximum word count to this para sample, but we do encourage that you highlight your character’s VOICE and MANNERISMS within it.

Macerating chaos. Outlying, starving howls that would bleed onto canvases for eons to come. The unrestrained syllables of Judas advising the rise. The uproar – the new age. But Orias heard nothing of it. Not even the unbridled rage that flooded past Lucifer’s lips, as the pillars he built upon began to deteriorate underneath his unsparing touch.

And despite the utter destruction that threatened to swallow them whole, Orias almost looked angelic against the ruins – because not all carnivores came in teeth and claws. Nor did the loss of such features extinguish their want for blood – for starving glory. There are carnivores that hunt in stillness, in elegance, and in false prophecies. They come in heavenly entities, spines exposed to the moon’s bridal-white burn in webs of elaborate lace, throats armored in a rib of emeralds gleaming wet with starlight, the moon cut down and born as moonstones, and strangling silk ties that pooled like opaque salt water.

There is distraction in their decadence and they are apart of the living breeds of predators that mask themselves in the distraction that innocuous beauty and debauchery allows – the drip of bleeding meat on the mouth dies out to rose-tinted lips, granite-grey wings and silver veils devouring all suspicion in its extravagant darkness.

Good. Let that be a warning.

Orias, whose frame was snug in translucent silk and drooping pearls, drifted over and neared the entirety of his putrescent stature. Their last encounter felt almost sincere but it was anything but. He gaped at them expectedly – as if they were meant to go to war for him. How foolish, they thought. But they’ll allow the sentiment to die with him and his kingdom.

Fingertips reached out to nimbly splay over the crescents of his jaw, their wings nearly caging them in – almost as if to protect the disingenuous moment from prying eyes. “Oh Lucifer.” Bared teeth. A hollowed coo. “You must have known this was your fate all along, no?” An unholy smile that did not quite reach the sable of their eyes. “It is best if you accept it.”

He clutched onto them. They recoiled in revulsion.

“Oh but you see, I cannot stay.” I am taking every piece with me.

Aching silence – accompanied by a tight-lipped plea and a knowing stare. But Orias did not flinch.

Instead, they removed themself from his demoralized hold, granite feathers spanning behind them in the process – as if they were mirroring the image of an eclipsed halo.

“May you find harmony with all you encounter.” A desolate hiss. A depraved leer. A vacant heart. And then they were gone.

And darkness followed soon after.

#accepted #accepted: orias

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swindlersstole · 4 years

Note

Kissies for no reason at all! :3

....................:3c

[act 3 spoilers, implied act 2 spoilers]

Prayer had never been something that Erik was particularly good at. It isn’t as though he doesn’t believe. Of course he believes. Yggdrasil has been above him his entire life, above all of Vinaheim, and he’s seen Her blessings firsthand. He’s seen Her call the souls of their people’s departed back onto her branches (his father) and seen Her send new life onto the earth to be born (his sister). Yggdrasil is real, and Her majesty is real, and even if one doesn’t believe, it’s not hard to rationalize why people might think to worship a floating tree.

He believes in his lineage, too. Erdwin’s spirit flows in his veins alongside his blood, as it does in Mia’s, and Erik has never had any reason to doubt it. Aunt Seithr, for one, doesn’t lie, couldn’t afford to as the town’s spiritual leader, and even if she did lie, she wouldn’t to their mother; he’s heard enough stories about how the bold and stubborn Lady Freya would nurse him in one arm and wield a crossbow in the other, so the thought that anyone in their right mind would try to anger her is unthinkable.

That anyone would spread lies about Erdwin’s legacy and its continuation was foolhardy at best. But that was in part of why prayer was so hard. If Erdwin’s soul slept within him, even if only half, then why would he need to pray for his guidance? By logic, wouldn’t Erdwin have been guiding him all this time? Not always with clear intent, naturally--he did still have the sabrecat ears and tail--but trusting in Erdwin had gotten him this far, right?

It had led him to Gemma in the end, hadn’t it?

But that’s why he’s here now, he supposes: in Vinaheim’s cathedral, on his knees, praying to his goddess and his ancestor for the guidance he never thought he’d need. Annoyed and worried as he is that Gemma had suddenly wandered off, Erik can’t blame her for it--today was the day they’d finally make it to Yggdrasil, to find what She’s left for Gemma. To find Gemma’s destiny.

Erik would be scared, too. And he is. So he has to ask for help.

“O Erdwin, blessed ancestor…” He doesn’t pray, not often, but he’s watched his parents and godparents and friends and neighbors and everyone since he was little, so he knows. Prayer isn’t about reciting old words and habits; true prayer comes from the heart, from faith, and Erik has both in leaps and bounds. “The time has come at last for us to fulfill our destiny…”

Destiny is a strange concept for him. Destiny is something he’s never been entirely sure he believes in fully, at least when applied to him, but he can’t say he’s ever been pressed into Erdwin’s legacy--he and Mia were told of their significance as heirs, yet always had a choice from the start. Vinaheim values freedom of the self, of the community. But its people are adamant, and Erik has known all his life that life itself is about resolve, and the outcome is secondary.

To say nothing of common sense--even if his destiny is a farce, why wouldn’t he take the chance to help carry the burden of the Luminary, to lighten her shoulders even the faintest bit, knowing what he does? If destiny means nothing, would that resolve still not determine the value of his life? Would that resolve be meaningless?

Of course not. Erik is many things, but he isn’t a regretful fool.

“We’re going to use the Orbs to take the Luminary up to the World Tree, and she’s going to awaken the power that will banish the darkness…” Erdwin knows this, Erik is sure, watching their journey from behind his and Mia’s eyes. He must know why Erik is calling on him now, of all times, as well. But speaking is helping still his nerves, so speak Erik does. “We’ve never been up to Yggdrasil before--I’m not sure anybody has, so we don’t know what’s up there waiting for us…”

He has an inkling of what might be. In his mind’s eye he can see twirling and vibrant plants and vines curling over every surface, holy monsters prowling Her branches, fireflies alight in the night amidst perpetually flowing rivers. He wonders if these are Erdwin’s memories coming through to him; they don’t feel like it, but he supposes he wouldn’t know the difference.

Regardless, Erik stands his ground. He lifts his head to the sky, to the open aperture of the cathedral where Yggdrasil awaits them in the morning sun, and he makes his vow.

“But no matter what happens… I swear, I won’t let the Luminary come to harm!” When he thinks back to being told of Serenica, being told of her scion, his memory always made him think of Mia. Barely a fortnight separates hers and Gemma’s births, and of course Erik would risk life and limb for his sister. Meeting Gemma for the first time only solidified that he’d do the same for her--her, who looked at Erik with his sister’s eyes. “She’s our light and our hope, and she’ll rid our world of darkness--I know she will!”

And she won’t be alone. She never has been. Serenica had Erdwin, the love of her life, and Gemma has Erik, her brother in arms.

Vigor runs through him, in heart and body, and Erik opens his arms to the heavens, asking for this one boon. Asking for the strength to protect what mattered.

“Erdwin, sword of legend--lend me your power! Help me fulfill my duty and protect the Luminary!”

Erik believes. Of course he believes. In Yggdrasil’s grace and glory. In Erdwin’s strength and devotion. In Serenica’s honor and legacy. In Gemma’s power and resolve.

And so deeply does he believe that he didn’t notice how long he hadn’t been along.

The sabrecat ears have their benefits; Erik can hear much better than he could before, and those floppy ears twitch and straighten out against his head when he finally catches the sound of sudden breath behind him. He lowers his arms, and glances behind him and--and it’s Gemma.

Illuminated by the sunlight in the open door behind her, she takes a timid half-step forward, towards him. She doesn’t look any different than how she did this morning, before she disappeared to who knew where. There is now this giant, frankly hideous-looking great axe strapped to her back, which is new, and Erik is pretty sure he sees an eye on its hilt looking at him, but it’s not nearly as important as Gemma herself looking at him.

How long has she been looking at him.

“You--what are you doing here?!” Erik is on his feet immediately, ears and tail sticking straight up in alarm. “...w-wait. You weren’t--you didn’t hear all that, did you?”

Gemma says nothing, and that in itself says everything he needs to know. Erik throws his face into his hands, and his head back in the air in embarrassment, but it isn’t to last long. This isn’t the time to be mortified; this is the time to be a brother, and get some answers, whether this sister to his soul wants to give them or not.

“What do you think you’re up to, just waltzing in with that big ugly axe like you own the place? Where in the world have you been?” Savior or no, Gemma has a lot of explaining to do. Erik strides up to her, frustrated and crimson. “Aunt Seither was talking to us all, and you just--vanished into thin air! We were worried sick about you!”

But Gemma still doesn’t say anything. She just… looks at him. Looks at him with eyes wide and wavering, lips parted in fathomless surprise, and Erik’s ire starts to turn back into concern.

“What’s the matter? And don’t say the cat’s got your tongue.” Still nothing, and the concern is becoming more unnerving. “...Come on, stop staring at me like that, will you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Today’s the big day, you know that. And the last thing we need is you spacing out on--”

Erik doesn’t get to say much else before Gemma flings herself at him--really just, full body, throws herself at him, arms around his neck like she hasn’t seen him in ages, like he was the ghost she’d been looking at all along. And it shellshocks him, and his arms hang in the air helplessly around her before cautiously settling on Gemma’s back. She’s shuddering, breathing quiet and deep into his shoulder and squeezing him as tight as she can. Like he’s to vanish the instant she dares let him go.

For reasons he doesn’t understand, Erik knows that this is right. He knows why Gemma is doing this, knows that she is right to do it, and even though it hurts her he doesn’t regret what he did. But exactly what he did eludes him, and he has a feeling Erdwin probably can’t enlighten him on that.

“...Gemma?” He rubs at her back like he would Mia after a nightmare--because that’s what it was that happened, Gemma woke up from a nightmare, a nightmare that he cannot place but somehow knows, and she needs to know that he’s there with her now. “Gemma.”

He doesn’t say more than that, doesn’t ask more, and even if he had, he doesn’t think Gemma would answer him. She lets out one more shaky breath, turns her head the smallest bit, and presses a kiss to his cheek.

That, of all things, is what really concerns Erik the most. The kiss was long and hard and full of relief. Not even Mia showed that much affection, unless it was a matter of life or death, and Gemma isn’t Mia, of course, but… Gemma is still Gemma. And Gemma doesn’t do that, either. Unless it’s Rini.

Before his circling thoughts confuse him any further, Erik puts his hands on Gemma’s shoulders, and pulls her off of him.

“What was all that for?”

Gemma is silent for a moment longer, still staring up at him with hopeful eyes--but then she smiles, wider and brighter like he’s never seen her smile before, like he just pulled the weight of the world off her shoulders.

“Oh… no reason.” She says, finally. “No reason at all.”

#panda does a write #the gemminary au #i'm sorry i cannot i join you in fuck arboria hours #i hope this not technically being arboria makes up for it #thechavanator

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ganbarimaster · 4 years

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The Campaign of Liu Ji Part 3 (Final!)

A continuation from this post, and the conclusion to this most recent play-through of Romance of the Three Kingdoms 14. When it came to beginning the inevitable battle with Cao Cao, I was a little hesitant at first. It seemed like it was going to take a while and I wasn’t sure how interesting it would be to play. But I soldiered on. It was a bit of a stalemate for a while, with neither of us gaining or losing any ground, but the computer had a tendency to over-extend itself and leave places vulnerable. And I already had more cities and troops, so it was really only a matter of time. I spent one entire evening just shuffling around officers and moving troops and resources from place-to-place. If I hadn’t been writing out this loose narrative for my campaign, I doubt I’d have been motivated to finish it. I’ll be interested to see how this game changes when the power up kit is eventually released, as at the moment its a little bare-bones, and most turns are spent rewarding officers to maintain their loyalty and accepting mundane suggestions from advisors which increase agriculture or whatever in a town by ten points. I feel like the narrative I wrote out for this campaign would have been much more interesting to read if I had been more strict with myself about roleplaying the position whilst playing, in terms of (for example) who I could or couldn’t hire, of sometimes losing territory to my enemies when it made sense, and so on. But as it stands, I don’t think this game has enough tools to keep things interesting and varied. Nevertheless, Cao Cao has been backed into a corner and the conflict approaches its end. The fate of the famous three sworn brothers revealed. If you want to know more about the destiny of one Liu Ji, styled Jingyu, read on!

Cao Cao, along with his advisors Guo Jia and Xun Yu, had developed an idea early on of separating the three brothers Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei—in order to prevent them from causing any trouble. Liu Bei would be based in Xuchang with the Emperor, Zhang Fei was to hold the frontlines against Ma Teng in the northwest, and Guan Yu had been involved in conflict in the northeast against Gongsun Zan. Liu Bei desired greatly to travel south to join the forces of Liu Ji, but he was effectively a prisoner, and did not want to be parted from his brothers. If Guan Yu or Zhang Fei shirked their duties in the north, it would have been very costly for Liu Bei and his family. In the years after the conflict with those forces came to an end, Cao Cao turned his attention southward to Liu Ji—with the three brothers still separated across the realm.

To prevent Liu Ji from gaining access to Chang’an, Cao Cao turned his forces toward Liu Ji’s position at Hangzhong, whilst simultaneously advancing on Liu Ji’s bases in Xinye, Shouchun, and in Jianye. It was easily the largest conflict in recent history. Liu Ji was unable to maintain control of Hanzhong, which was a key base for moving on Chang’an. Once the area had been subdued by Cao Cao’s forces, Zhang Fei was placed in charge of the unit now stationed at Hanzhong—presumably to intimidate Liu Ji and prevent him from advancing. But when Cao Cao’s forces came to join Zhang Fei for a full-scale invasion of the riverlands, Zhang Fei refused to open the doors to the city they had occupied. Not long after, he was somehow joined by his sworn brother Liu Bei, who had escaped captivity in Xuchang during the ongoing conflicts with Liu Ji and had snuck his way over to Hanzhong with the help of some supporters in Cao Cao’s territory. As Cao Cao directed his forces to advance upon Zhang Fei at Hanzhong, Liu Ji sent his own generals to support that same position. It transpired that Fa Zheng had also been in contact with Zhang Fei over the past few months—which had made this surprising turn of events possible. Guan Yu was yet to be seen, but the conflict between Cao Cao and Liu Ji had begun in earnest.

Taishi Ci, Ling Tong, Huang Zhong, Wei Yan and Ma Chao were his most capable generals, and had become the pillar of his military force—his five Tiger Generals. Zhuge Liang was promoted to Prime Minister, and Lu Xun became the Director General. He was not lacking for intelligent advisors, but they did not often agree. Even so, Liu Ji enjoyed weighing the value of the various suggestions presented to him, and actively encouraged lively and good-spirited debate within his halls. Spiteful, personal attacks and underhanded comments were not tolerated. This contributed towards a sense of camaraderie among the intelligent officers of his force, and ensured they were motivated and focused on the task at hand, working hard to develop their ideas and consider alternatives which might be suggested by their interlocutors.

Recognizing the value of maintaining a hold on Hanzhong, and furious at the betrayal of Zhang Fei and Liu Bei, Cao Cao dedicated himself to securing the area once more. He sent their sworn brother, Guan Yu—who had become so indebted to Cao Cao through his service over the years, and who had been poisoned with lies about the behavior of his sworn brothers. Zhang Fei met Guan Yu on the field, enraged that Guan Yu hadn’t already come to join his brothers, and was yet a peon under Cao Cao. The two clashed in an intense duel, rending heaven and earth.

Pushing one another to their limits in a battle which had both armies enraptured, more than two-hundred bouts had been concluded. Liu Bei yelled at both brothers to lower their arms and remember their oath. He got between the two in the midst of their duel without a weapon of his own, which took them by surprise. Liu Bei was accidentally struck in the head and bled from his ears. He died soon after. In their distress, both Zhang Fei and Guan Yu took their own lives. Soldiers on both sides attempted to prevent them from doing so, but to no avail. In the chaos that followed, Cao Cao regained control of Hanzhong for a short time. But being spread thin, and fearing Xuchang would fall, was unable to hold it for long.

Across the realm, Cao Cao’s bases had begun to fall to Liu Ji—Cao Mai’s navy was overrun off the shore of Guangling by He Qi and Lu Dai, enabling Liu Ji to build upon his forces on the northern shores of the Changjiang. Sensing that Cao Cao had acted too late to mount a meaningful opposition against Liu Ji, Zhang He turned on Cao Cao’s force at Wan Castle, joining with Liu Ji and providing them access to the castle. Xuchang was now within reach, and efforts were being made by Cao Cao to relocate the capital, and thereby the Emperor, north of the Huanghe to Ye, the Capital of Ji Province.

Xu Province had already been captured by Liu Ji, and the escape route to Ji Province had been cut off. Xuchang swiftly fell. Cao Cao barely escaped with his life, but he was unable to bring the Emperor with him. The carriage of the Emperor was surrounded by Huang Zhong and Wei Yan before it could reach the river. Liu Ji himself led a force through Hu Lao Gate to capture Luo Yang, with Taishi Ci, Ling Cao, and Lu Dai—some of his longest serving generals. Luo Yang was re-established as the capital city and the Emperor was encouraged to resume his role, but he vehemently opposed the idea, exhausted by playing his role as puppet Emperor. He threatened to kill himself if Liu Ji did not assume the throne and continue the Han Dynasty as an imperial ancestor. Hesitant at first, it was only at the insistence of his advisors that Liu Ji capitulated and accepted. He was named Emperor Da of Yang.

Cao Cao had become very ill, often bedridden by severe migraines. Sima Yi took care of most of his duties, which largely involved re-structuring and re-organizing their forces north of the Huanghe. Of his most capable generals, only Xu Huang and Xiahou Yuan were with him in Ye, but both were now over fifty years of age. Xiahou Dun was stationed in Liang Province, cut off from the rest of Cao Cao’s force.

A small force led by Ma Chao slowly encroached upon Xiahou Dun in Liang Province. Although he fought fiercely, being cut off from Cao Cao’s main force, supplies were lacking. The sparse fields of Liang were not enough to support a standing army, and morale was low. It is said that Xiahou Dun fought until his last breath. Ma Chao was elated to be able to recapture the lands rightfully belonging to his family.

This was now a time for Emperor Da and his forces to rest and recuperate, and focus on domestic affairs. A great deal of discussion centred on moving the capital again to somewhere in the south, but such discussions were tabled until a time when the realm had been completely unified. Liu Ji, now almost 40, had a daughter, but had yet fathered no sons—and this was another active point of discussion.

Many messages were sent to Cao Cao to entreat him to surrender his forces, but he adamantly refused. After a few years, the Emperor commanded that an enormous force cross the Huanghe and capture You, Ji, and Bing. But before the conflict could begin, Cao Cao suddenly passed away in the spring of 221AD. Sima Yi was the architect of the discussions which followed, pledging fealty to the new Han Emperor and surrendering their forces. Gongsun Gong eventually followed suit, and the realm was completely unified by 223AD.

Some years of peace and prosperity followed, but unrest remained surrounding the Imperial lineage. Sima Yi worked diligently at involving his family in Imperial affairs, ingratiating himself to the Emperor—he petitioned to have one of his sons marry the Emperor’s daughter and become Prince. The remaining members of the Sun family sought recognition for having supported the Emperor since His earliest days, and demanded the Emperor’s daughter marry one of their number. Any talk of moving the capital to the southlands was seen as tacit support for the Sun family, and so the conversation stagnated. As tensions flared, and years passed, the princess became aware of her own significance and the power it afforded her. She would sometimes leverage her own life in order to secure her own autonomy. It was announced that she would marry in her own time, on her own terms, as she intended to become the first Empress. Legislation was written to support her claim.

When Emperor Da passed away almost thirty years later, she ascended to the throne. But in the years which followed, internal conflict escalated and the land began to fracture once more, many refusing to accept this new state of affairs, and some making their own claims to the Imperial throne. A new age of conflict had begun.

#rot3k #rot3k 14 #Romance of the Three Kingdoms #koei #koei tecmo #three kingdoms #three kingdoms au #three kingdoms alternate history #alternate history #liu ji #cao cao #zhang fei #liu bei #guan yu #sima yi #han dynasty

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