jaylaraye47 · 8 months ago
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i need help
for those that don't know me (or follow me) i am a teenage girl named Sam and i would love to do more for Palestine, Congo, Yemen, Lebanon and everyone else. Although sadly i don't have much freedom to make huge actions as i am still in school and that takes up a lot. And neither me nor my family have much money right now. Our country is experiencing horrible econimic trouble and everyhting is expensive these days. Therefor i can sadly not dont much, nor am i allowed to. If anyone knows anything that i can do, such as contributing to online organizations, signing pentuitions, or anything else, then please;
reblog with links or ideas to what i and others can do
send me this information privaetly incase tumblr tries to hide it
or whatever else you atr able to do
Everything helps and please let me know if theres anything i can do for this cause.
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medicinemane · 4 months ago
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Mike johnson has so god damn much blood on his hands, obviously Ukrainian blood, but also plenty of American blood
Refusing to renew something that helps vets exposed to atomic blast and Americans who were downwind of the fall out... it's just sick. I can't fucking stand mike johnson, he's one of the worst scum to ever be in congress, and that's fucking saying something
"Johnson refused to allow House members to vote on bipartisan legislation to renew and improve the program"
Fucking quivering little pimple seems to have a real MO for just wringing his hands while insisting it's not his fault, he just can't do the one fucking part of his job of putting shit up to a vote... oh boo hoo, so sad, he'll just have to unilaterally let funding expire on things instead of literally just putting it up to our elected representatives to see if they want to vote yay or nay
Single handedly make the choices but it's not his fault when they work out how they do
Murderer
#I'm sorry; I both genuinely hate the man and will never forgive him; so seeing this just adds more fuel to that fire#and I'm also genuinely pissed to hear that we aren't gonna be bothering to fucking help out people we fucked over#it's fucking sick#listen; I try not to talk politics too much and I try not to tell people how to vote cause it's not really my business#and cause I don't like arguing with people on tumblr; waste of my time#but for all the dems many many many many many fucking flaws; it's shit like this that makes me hate the gop#every last line about sticking up for rural or poor people or whatever is such a fucking lie#god bless our troops... unless it would cost money to compensate them for making them stand near atomic detonations#at every turn I see fucking simple easy decent bipartisan policy shot down but fuckers like johnson; who is the gop at this point#fuck em; can't stand em#go fucking vote if you can in whatever country you're in; try and get a mail in ballot for your sake#I'm still not gonna tell you how to vote but uh... maybe keep in mind when someone's hands are fucking caked in blood#and keep in mind what kind of company people keep in their political party#fucking murder#cause inaction is murder as sure as if he stood their and kept them from getting treatment directly#removing the funding to let these people get cancers and stuff operated on#it's the same as murder#and again; that's not even going back to him personally; like literally it was just him and him alone#holding up aid to Ukraine for months because he refused to put it to the floor#where... oh look... once it was put to the floor it passed just fine (with a fucking tiktok ban added)#(hate that site but I hate government overreach with this kinda shit more)#one of the few people in this world I think I actually truly hate#I'm never gonna fucking stomach the 'he was so brave for holding a vote' shit lie#bullshit; if he had a spine or a soul he would have brought Ukraine aid to the floor before funding ran out#just like if he had a spine or a soul he'd have brought this radiation victim funding to the floor before it ran out#almost like there's a fucking pattern here of him squirming like a pus filled pimple simpering about how he just can't do his job#can't do the one fucking thing he's supposed to do and bring shit to the floor for a vote#I have more opinions on him; but if I said how I really feel right now I think it would get me put on a list#and... sadly just cause of who I am; if I were in a room alone with him I think I'd just lay into him instead of beating his ass#but he's a fucking monster and reading this story just now... I'm almost seeing red with how much it's pissing me off
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whisk3ysugar · 4 months ago
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A Warrior's Daughter.
Pairing:
Emperor Geta x General's Daughter! Reader
Warnings:
Not really any yet, but next chapter shall be 18+, so proceed with caution.
Summary:
You assume that by being the daughter of a well respected general it allows you immunity. A breath away from the rulers and the empire as a whole. And oh how wrong could you be.
So, so wrong.
Emperor Geta sees to branding you if it’s the last thing he’ll do. If it means owning a general like owning a slave, he'd do it. And, if it means exploring the depths of unknown territory for the sake of power and greed, he would do it.
Authors Note:
This is my first time writing something in a WHILE.. It's not proofread and I wrote it on a plane ride. I was just wayyyy too caught up on Geta and I love him a ton but I wanted to capture that dick side of him (which is like all of him) and kinda write it out! Most of this is kinda backstory for reader, but the next part will be more shut and romance and tension.. Whatnot. Hope you enjoy!
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The general served the region as a protector. A safe haven for the serfs and slaves whom lurked the corners of every street in Rome. Made for the people by the people, shaped to be a man capable enough to bare burdens and scars left by the empire. To be held accountable for the mistakes of the corrupt emperor, Geta. A horrid man who’d murder for the sake of entertainment. A man who’s veins ran cold with toxins more potent than venom. A poor excuse for a leader and an even worse human.
And a dangerous case to be noticed by. For fun, for pain, for greed, for it all because Geta never settled for less.
Being the daughter of a fighter, blessed directly by Gods of War, had given you false security. Something you’d conjured in your mind long ago in times of danger. To soothe you. Make you feel untouchable. Because in reality, that was the case. Back then, atleast, you’d been the daughter of THE General Acacius. Born with the blood of a real leader. A piece of someone with true power and courage who’d been loyal and an inspiration. The head of the Roman Empire beyond the grasp of Emperor Geta or Caracalla. In retrospect.
You had been someone. Protected. Praised. Seen beyond the façade which draped over the rest of Rome’s shoulders. Someone more, like your father. Looked upon like a woman unafraid of a challenge, despite your lack of royal status. A trained fighter, a kind soul, a brave heart, a person with morals held higher than the injustice of war and fighting.. You were everything emperors and empresses despised. Everything Geta lacked.
And although you could trace your attributes back to your father and your deceased mother, you’d always been bad at hiding true nature. Completely opposed to your father who valued safety over any personal opinion. A good man. Forever loyal to whomever sat upon the throne so long as it provided survival for the ones he held deep in his heart. For you.
A dog.
Commitment you admired but never wished to possess. Your rebellion engraved and scarred into your values forevermore, fueled by the promises of a better future. A better leader. And.. fueled by the fantasies of being safe. Or really, safer than the rest.
Something you’d grown to consider, contrasting your development into a real woman, had relinquished into realization. Realization that no one was safe. You weren’t, the city wasn’t.. Your father wasn’t.
It had been something you were quickly struck with when he’d been stripped of his title. Reduced to nothing more than a fighter, battling for another day to live, just for the entertainment of people more fortunate than he. Scarred and beat because that was his duty to his emperor. His duty to you, to ensure a life away from Geta and Caracalla. Away from the wretched mistakes that were the emperors.
Marcus Acacius had done everything humanly possible to keep you away from Geta. Or rather, to keep Geta away from you.
He’d lied, betrayed, gone against orders and cheated to keep your identity secret. Pure dishonor to his name merely for the sake of having you stay safe. He could handle it. The punishment, burden, everything. So long as you were alive, un-harmed, and out of the hands of not-so-noble nobility.
It was wishful thinking. As wishful as your fantasies of being safe, and courageous like your father.
There were suspicions that the general had been sheltering someone in secret. Perhaps a slave, maybe a new wife, but a daughter? No one could’ve ever suspected that. Much less the emperors. And, you supposed it could’ve remained secret if it weren’t for your own foolishness. For your mistake of unveiling yourself around the general.. in public. You’d never stood side by side with the man in view for anyone other than the most trusted.. So with your stupidity came the revelation that it was an unmistakable resemblance. Too genetically duplicate to the man to condemn. And as much as you’d prayed to every and any God to suppress the gossip, it’d been no use. To no avail.
You’d been caught. You’d both been caught. And matters couldn’t have gotten worse.
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Except it did. Things got entirely worse.
Once word had been released that the general was harboring a daughter.. Especially since he was harboring a daughter.. and lying about it.. he’d been quickly suffocated with degradation. Bombarded with questions. Attacked with hate and pure confusion, because Gods forbid the GENERAL lies about anything, solely because he is the man that everyone trusts. Or the man everyone trusted.
Everything had gone from 0 to 100 in about a day. And from 100 to 1000 within seconds. When you’d lost your life and been stripped of your dignity, just like how your father had been stripped of his. All when the emperors in the flesh took it upon themselves to barge into the safety of your home, only to be greeted with the sight of truth. You. The daughter of a general, real, present. The consequence of love which everyone figured Marcus Acacius was too corrupt to conceive. The explanation to a general’s loyalty beyond the curtains of reality.
A rage to the nobles. A rage to the civilians. And an enrapturing woman to the emperor. To Geta.
The upper hand. The solution. Leverage to dangle above a superior’s head like bait. And a treasure far more priceless than any jewel or ore he’d ever been offered.
The daughter of a supreme leader who wielded no real power. No real riches. Only the comfort of kin and a reason to fight.
The catch of the millenia.
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Your life was ripped away from you. Your father was ripped away from you. You were left with nothing but the orders to obey, and to marry.
For the sake of your father. For the sake of your life. At the cost of your freedom.
The life you’d planned to live was left behind as a memory. A fragment of the person you hoped to be. Replaced with the promise of a ‘better life’, and the safety you’d always fantasized of. Promised to you by your own father.
“You shall live a better life, my sweet girl. I know,” he sighed heavily. His voice shakey and laced with regret as he uttered each syllable to you. Eyes brimming with disgraced tears. Disgrace in himself for failing you.
“—I know I will not be able to keep you safe myself, but I promise you.. you will be protected. The emperors will protect you, so long as you listen. Obey.”
He’d sacrifice anything to avoid having this conversation. To return to your lives without the notice of townsfolk, without the eyes of rulers searing into your skin, and without the torture of having to leave each other behind. But there was nothing he, nor you, could do. You were to be engaged. To be compromised. To a ruler with no sense of dignity, no sense of humility nor a sense of respect. Only a power feign with no remorse.
Your father thumbed at your cheek, wiping the tears which streaked and seeped into your skin. Sorrow filled eyes longing for a daughter to hold, only to be met with the familiar face of a forced bride-to-be...
“Please, I beg of you to save yourself, father—Fight and get out of this country. You could die.. You could be tortured or murdered and I—I can’t handle any more pain.”
Your voice came out breathy and silent. Barely loud enough for your father’s ears, but just enough. Enough to get your point across, and to urge him away from what was to come.
“I fear Geta. I fear him with every bone in my body, but I fear losing you far worse. I will marry him. I do not know what he sees in me, but I know he craves your demise, and I will not stand around and bare witness to a further downfall.”
You craved a minute more. A second to tell your father how you love him so, and you couldn’t blame him for a moment in your life for how things are to turn out. But you couldn’t. The guards had arrived, and that was your cue to be dragged away. To struggle and sob as you’d be ripped away from your father, once a general, now a helpless gladiator. To call out for him as you’re hoisted out of the room by guards too rough to handle, only to be faced with Geta. Your emperor. Your ‘betrothed’. Smiling. Baring his teeth like a rabid dog at its prey. He was proud of his work. Proud of that sliver of ‘kindness’ he’d dug out. And he’d awaited praise.. for allowing you to share your last moments with your father. Geta expected a string of ‘thank you’s’ or sobs proclaiming everlasting loyalty. He expected obedience and nothing more. But, he was met with none. Not a single mumble of praise because you’d rather die than give him any.
“You will be.. such a fine empress. You shall bear my children and produce an heir fit for the throne. And, your father shall be our entertainment.”
His words make you want to gag. Make you want to fall to your knees and sob, but you knew that if you were to do so, he’d only be spurred on. He'd feel powerful. He’d feel like a winner. And you were never going to allow him that pleasure.
“You will learn to be a good wife and do as I say when I say it, you hear?”
A quick nod was all you gave him. No words, no emotions. You were aware of how unstable you were at the moment, and your façade would soon crack if you uttered a single syllable.
And, he was not content with that response.
“Answer me. Let me hear your voice or you shall be punished severely.”
Your cheeks flushed pink. You wanted so badly to cry and flee forever. But you couldn’t. Your options were entirely limited. You could escape.. or ‘obey’, as your father had said.
And obey you shall.
“Yes, your highness. I hear—I will bear you a child and you—”
You were risking everything. You should stay silent, evaluate your options. Realize that you weren’t at liberty of speaking your mind any longer. But you are the daughter of a general, and his courage is your courage.
“You will ensure my father’s safety. You must.. allow him to be the most glorious gladiator..”
Always the challenger, never for peace. Just as your father had been. Forever a threat to the rulers and still with the promise of punishment for rebellion, you pursue. It angers him. Makes him seethe. He grinds his teeth and his jaw tightens as he considers how exactly to deal with you.
No room for murdering you like he’d normally do to other subjects in a fit of rage. No chance to attack you ferociously. No time to scream at you.
He’d settle for showing you how your power paled in comparison to his.
Your feet stumble as he lunges forward at you, quickly slithering his hand up the scruff of your neck to fist at your hair. A tingling pain sets in at the roots of your strands, stinging, and bruising as he handles you like a pest. It nestles uncomfortably, and it taints the feeling of abuse you’re enduring at his doing.
Yet, you’re forced to push it aside as he replaces the feeling with.. something different. The feeling of his lips crashing into yours. Latching on and gnawing gently in a battle of teeth and tongue. His saliva tastes different than any liquid you’ve drank. It’s almost heavenly, offering life to its victims. To ease the pain burrowed within you. It’s feral. Animalistic, really. But how could you have expected anything less from a tyrant.
After all, Geta gained power from making others submit. And it always worked. But forever the fighter, you’d always put up a battle.
Eyes pressed tight together as you inhale him, and everything that made him. His scent, almost musky but perfumed and pampered, his taste, a tinge of alcohol and deliciously fruity, just the feeling of him on you. Everything. He filled you with his presence. Geta overtook any space you’d left empty. And, part of you wished the circumstances could be different. Where in some other world this could be considered love, and Venus could watch upon your blooming romance. In some alternate world you’d drop your persistence, settle in his embrace without a care in the world and let him have his way.
But, you’re in this world. And in this world you haven’t the luxury of submission. Atleast.. total submission.
So with enough passion to fuel your senses. Your morality. You unravel from your sentience and glide your hands along the luxurious red that is his tunic, tracing upon the engraved designs, all the way to the treasures that were his jewels and golden accents, absolutely littered all over his garments. And, with a boost you swallow down the feeling of disgust to feel empowered rather than useless. To taste him back and contribute to the battle between your lips.
You fight for the power you deserve. The power your father earned for the both of you which should’ve never been retracted. You’d show this emperor who you were. How you weren’t a servant, nor a slave, and you’d never be reduced to a mere concubine. You were your own soldier, and you would not be conquered.
You pull away, his grip still firm on your neck. Its unsure if your bravery is attractive, or completely rejected, but the swell on Geta’s lips, and the saliva connecting you two is enough to tell you that regardless of what it resulted in, it was worth it. You had showed him who you were, and where you stood. He both loved and despised it.
“Get out of my sight. Go to your chambers. We will speak tomorrow.”
The tight grasp he had on your neck faltered, and you could feel the mark forming as he removed himself from you. His voice was as breathy as yours on the nights you’d pray to the Gods, pleading for forgiveness for whatever crimes youd committed. Breathy like your sobs for your father to hold you, keep you. Hell, you’d almost forgotten about how you were practically stolen away a mere few minutes ago. Deep down you hated yourself for indulging in the man you were to marry.. but you knew it had to be done. And if you enjoyed it.. well you’d convince yourself he’d corrupted you, somehow. Someway.
Regardless, you’d remained obedient. Like your father begged of you. Like Geta had reminded you to act. And if that meant scurrying off to your room.. your own room without his intoxicating presence, well then you’d do it in a heartbeat. It’d leave you to think. To plan. To lay in your bed and wait till you’d, (most likely), be called upon by a greedy emperor.
Most of all, though.. You’d remind yourself what you’d done, and how this was your fault. And you’d do anything to fix your mistake.
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freyito · 3 months ago
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Hi! Not a fic request but I’m just interested in what you think messmers love languages are? Since Elden ring isn’t really commonplace for romance how do you think he’d fare in that department?
✧ a/n: (evil grin) its gonna be treated like a request anyways cause ive thought abt this a lot. a lot a lot a LOT thank you for enabling me anon
✭ pairing: messmer x gn reader
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🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread
✎ wc: 447 (short n sweet)
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I think he’s a pretty quaint mix of all of the love languages, but three stand out to me the most. Physical Touch, Words of Affirmation, and Quality Time. Acts of Service is a big one for him as well, but doesn’t match up to those three.
Let’s talk Physical Touch first. Messmer tends to shy away from it, yet crave it heavily. In a land scarred with war, it is hard to accept a kind hand when all you’ve known are those that dig daggers into your flesh. With you, however, it’s different. He doesn’t fear your hands, scarred as they may be.
When he’s comfortable, he seeks out your touch every time he gets the chance to. He’s quite fond of holding your hands whenever, especially when your hands are cold. He takes great pride in being able to use his flame for something other than burning. He also quite loves to cuddle, as funny as it sounds. He rests easier when he’s with you, although he’s still a very, very light sleeper (which is common in the Lands Between as a whole).
With Words of Affirmation, I believe he genuinely quite likes to be praised and at least told that he’s doing a good job, since the very praise he had been looking for was kept from him for years upon years. To hear such validation practically makes him putty in your hands. But everything with him stands on equal ground, and he will praise you right back.
How brave you are, battling in the Lands Between, an admirable soul. In fact, he almost showers you in praise, sometimes it’s a little uncanny. He isn’t the most vocal, and yet when it comes to you, he’s quite the poet. He finds it easier to love you through words rather than touch, as much as he seeks it out.
Messmer is more than happy to spend his free time with you, actually. When he fails with his words and his hands, he is content to simply share the same space with you. Often times he will be content to be in the same room, either reading together, or even napping together. Something he felt he could never afford then.
Quality Time just means a lot to him, to have someone that doesn’t mind being around him, that isn’t afraid of him, that could be devoted to him in a way his Fire Knights aren’t, it’s a blessed thing, really. He will show you the same devotion, perhaps even tenfold, when he is confident that this love is true. To have someone show him that love does exist, it’s a beauty he never even thought of.
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© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices
DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
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justporo · 8 months ago
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Hey you :D
Here’s a request just to add your huge list for after vacation muahaha 💖
How do you think a slow, bickering romance with Astarion (kinda like Howl and Sophie) would go down.
Hey darling ❤️ You might’ve forgotten about this ask but I have not! I'm combining this with another one asking about where Astarion rejected Tav at first but then slowly fell for them.
Also haven't done one of this headcanon posts for a whole haven't we? Here we go:
Headcanons about Astarion slowly but surely falling in love with you (and how he pursues you)
Oh, it's all just a game for him, isn't it? At least at first. But this silly little jester didn't realise he was playing himself.
He might have rejected you at first (because he's a prick who has looked at the sun a little too long, let's be honest) but he quickly realises he can't take his mind off of you
You keep stirring the vampire's undead little heart and it scares him at first - and of course you had given up on it after that first hurtful rejection
But his crimson eyes start to never stray far from you, no matter if in battle or at camp: he can't tear his gaze from you - gods dammit, you're lovely!
It's in the way you always put others first, always have a kind word to spare, always a warm smile. How you laugh and how brave you are, how you bite your lip when you're lost deep in thought.
Quite frankly: a stake to his heart couldn't have been more effective.
But he realises another thing: he wants to be real with you, he wants to fall slowly with you - not a vicious thunderstorm but a soft, warm summer rain
And so Astarion begins to yearn in silence as you too can't keep your thoughts from turning around him often
It's painfully obvious to everyone around you how much the two of you are in love with each other; so much so that bets are being made in camp if you're gonna make it before you all reach the Gate
You notice that Astarion keeps sneaking around you like an adoring cat would: always a playful quip on the tip of his sharp tongue that you never take serious because... this Astarion we're talking about. "Oh my heart, aren't you even more blinding than the sun today" "Look who's blessing us with their grace and insight." "A copper for the thoughts in your pretty little head, darling."
Astarion doesn't know how to live the teasing out of his tone, maybe out of fear you might actually start taking him seriously; but if you would peel back the generous layer of faked sarcasm you'd find he's actually being serious
This man is downright smitten by you and you don't realise it as he achingly yearns for you - so much the others can barely take it
Sometimes you find little gifts on your pillow when you wake up: a sweet treat, snuck away from the others, a single blossom, a mysterious line of poetry - you are at a loss at where this comes from or if someone is playing with you
Meanwhile Astarion swallows his pride to regularly go to Wyll and ask his advice who... does help him but not without a haughty grin whenever he sees the lovesick vampire stroll over in his seemingly hopeless endeavour
Meanwhile you keep doing your utmost best to be at Astarion's side because you truly only want to help him and be happy and safe
Again: have mercy with the poor tortured soul, sometimes Astarion almost feels like he could combust on the spot if you give him one of your adorable lopsided smiles
When Moonrise and unpleasant people happen something in Astarion breaks, it all bursts out of him at once, overpowering even his terrible fear of rejection
The hug and tender first kiss you share that night tears both if your walls down.
You have not defeated the big bad enemy but something in your heart lightens knowing you have someone who will travel the road to whatever end with you
From there on out the two of you become even more unbearable in your pining for each other - meanwhile not trivial amounts of gold are passed between the other companions with quite some grumbling - but be assured: all of your friends are rooting for the two of you.
There we go, I love idiots in love with each other, hope you enjoyed!
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chiqelatasblog · 6 months ago
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In the Middle of the Night🌙
-> Ao3 link is here.
-> Part Four is here.
Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub- Zero x Reader, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x Reader, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x Reader
Author’s Note : I apologize for the delay! The past couple of weeks have been incredibly stressful for me. I had several meetings and had to write protocols for my client’s case. Additionally, I visited a friend who was staying in a different province, four hours away from where I live. Everything seemed to overlap (and to top it off, even my menstrual cycle was 17 days late due to the stress). But now, everything seems to be settling down, and I’ve managed to clear my mind and focus on writing this chapter as soon as possible. I decided to split this chapter into two parts because I felt it would have a better impact, and I wanted to give the final chapter its own spotlight. I hope you enjoy reading it! Thank you for your patience and understanding.❤️
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CHAPTER FIVE : (READER)
Until now, you never thought that you could fall in love with three people at the same time.
You didn’t realize a few months ago that such a thing was possible, but now it felt as natural and normal to you as breathing. It was as if Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas had always been a part of your life. You got used to their presence so easily that now it’s hard to imagine your life without them; you were so attached to them. It was a fact that you didn’t know them until a few months ago, but although you couldn’t quite describe it, it felt as if your souls had known each other for a long time. Your movements resembled pieces of a jigsaw puzzle—they were so complete. There was a nonverbal communication between you; sometimes you could effortlessly communicate without speaking, even just by looking. This situation was very special and unique for you, as you had never made such a connection with anyone before.
Each moment spent with them felt like a blessing. When Bi-Han’s stern gaze softened just for you, it made you feel cherished in a way you had never experienced before. Kuai Liang’s calm presence was a sanctuary, a steady anchor in the chaos of life. And Tomas, with his unyielding loyalty and kindness, filled your heart with warmth and light. The bond you shared with them was deeper than mere friendship. It was an unspoken promise, a silent understanding that no matter what happened, you would stand by them. You hadn’t yet said it out loud to any of them, but you loved all three with a special bond and emotion. Your actions and looks might have betrayed your feelings, but you lacked the courage to put it into words.
You would find yourself watching them, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude and affection. The way Tomas’s eyes glinted with mischief when he teased you, or how Bi-Han’s rare, gentle smiles made your heart flutter. Kuai Liang’s reassuring touch or kiss on your shoulder during moments of doubt spoke volumes about his unwavering support. Each of these little things cemented their place in your heart, making it impossible to imagine a future without them.
They had become a part of you, woven into the very fabric of your existence. And even though the words were yet to be spoken, your heart had already made its choice. They were the kind of people you would want to keep hidden in your heart forever, to protect and watch over.
Loving Tomas was like experiencing spring. He wasn’t as serious as his two brothers; he was polite, with a naivety that softened the expression in his light gray eyes, making them irresistible to look at. Despite the scars on his soul from a very young age, Tomas was brave. He was the first person to choose to trust you, and that trust felt like a precious gift. His sense of humor was not only funny but remarkably similar to yours, making your conversations a source of endless delight. His presence was like feeling the gentle warmth of the sun after the harsh cold of a long black winter. Every moment spent with him was filled with hope and joy, like the first flowers of the season blooming and signaling new beginnings.
His love was tender and kind, much like the soft rain that revives the earth after a prolonged drought. Being with him allowed you to embrace your inner child, escaping the harsh realities of life. You found joy in the simple pleasures of watching TV shows or movies together, taking care of mundane tasks, having small, meaningful conversations, and spending time with Ninja. His ability to bring simplicity and happiness into your life made every moment with him feel like a cherished memory in the making.
Loving Kuai Liang was like experiencing summer. His body was warmer than normal due to his pyromancy, and you found yourself surrounded by a gentle, safe warmth next to him, especially when wrapped in his strong arms. It was such a soothing feeling that most of the time, it made your eyelids feel heavy and sleepy because of the peace you felt. Although touching Kuai Liang was wonderful, he was afraid to touch you because of his dark past, fearing that he might tarnish you. When you heard that, it felt like you had been shot in the brain, and your heart painfully squeezed thinking about what this strong man had been subjected to. None of them had told you exactly what they had been through in the past—you knew bits about what happened with Leilani and a few other masters, but nothing more—but it wasn’t difficult to guess. So you left it entirely up to them to control the speed at which they wanted to move forward in the process. You wanted them to know that they had this power, that they had a say.
Every time you spent with Kuai Liang filled you with a vibrant energy, warming you to the core like basking in sunlight. His love was wild and passionate, yet he was also incredibly kind; it set your soul ablaze, much like the intense heat of a scorching day. You felt comfortable next to him, his presence enveloping you like warm summer nights. You enjoyed walking outdoors with him, cooking together with his help (especially since discovering his distinct fondness for sweets last week), chatting about past missions, and witnessing the proud expression on his face when you asked him to show his powers.
Loving Bi-Han was like experiencing winter. His true self, which emerged after overcoming his initially harsh and inaccessible exterior, exuded a unique warmth that demonstrated winter was not just about coldness. Like soft snowflakes falling to the ground in the serene beauty of a winter landscape, his touch was gentle and filled with longing. Though not as openly expressive as his two brothers, you could sense his love in the way he touched you or looked at you every time. Despite the coldness that seemed to envelop him, his gaze held a warm invitation that melted away the chill, filling you with a warmth that drew you to him.
Unlike Kuai Liang, Bi-Han was not one to avoid contact. Although the ice forces surrounding him usually caused harm to both himself and others, this rule didn’t seem to apply to you. Since realizing this, it was as if he couldn’t stop touching you. He never verbalized it, but every time a part of his body—his arm, hand, or leg—came into contact with yours, it was evident how much he cared. Though his touch initially felt cold and eerie, you soon grew accustomed to it, even finding it addictive. Despite appearances, Bi-Han served as the cornerstone among the brothers, keeping them united and shielded with his protective and steadfast demeanor. Being included in that circle filled your heart with love and made you feel special.
Even though Bi-Han was the last to let down his walls around you, getting used to him was quick and effortless, much like with the other brothers. You enjoyed conversing with him about his clan, listening to him describe his daily routines, and especially watching the city view in the evenings. The silence felt peaceful rather than suffocating, allowing for a range of unexpressed emotions to be felt in that moment. Moreover, witnessing his moments of care for Ninja when he thought no one was watching was another detail that melted your heart.
You were deeply connected to three men in a way that scared you a little. Your emotions were incredibly intense—the love you felt for them, their choice to trust you despite their painful pasts, the respect you held for their strength and courage, your anger at the injustices they faced, and your desire for revenge. You had never experienced such emotions so clearly and intensely, shaking you to the core. It was somewhat frightening, as your priorities suddenly shifted to them instead of yourself. Your sole focus became freeing them from the clutches of the book and its curse, with less than a week and a half remaining until the deadline.
Despite your efforts, you hadn’t found a solution yet. Since the owner of the book could only summon them once, you wouldn’t be able to see them again after the time limit passed. The thought of this damned you, filling your heart with great fear at the prospect of what they might face if Sektor failed to protect them when he came to retrieve the book after you, and it fell into the hands of a new person.
You were prepared to do whatever it took to prevent this outcome, but the lack of a solution filled you with terrible anxiety and drove you to the brink of madness. Just two months ago, your biggest concern was unemployment and paying rent, but now your problems had evolved into something entirely different. Your own worries seemed insignificant compared to the future of the men you loved. Breaking this curse had become the most important thing in your life right now.
Bi-Han’s change in attitude towards you had somewhat lessened the effect of the curse on you. However, it remained a relentless force, constantly gnawing at you in a corner of your mind. Whenever you were close to Tomas, Kuai Liang, or Bi-Han, it seemed to roar in your mind, filling you with a desire that was hard to resist. Your skin practically begged you to touch them, and sometimes the desire was so intense that it felt like you were engulfed in flames—it hurt and clouded your judgment, making you feel almost foolish. At times, the urge became so overwhelming that finding refuge in the bathroom seemed to be the only solution. While your fingers didn’t always provide the satisfaction you sought, they at least allowed you to regain some semblance of control. But the lingering feeling in your mind never disappeared. It was akin to eating without feeling satiated—it was relentless and unyielding.
Each passing day seemed to bring a new level of torment, as if the curse intensified with every sunrise. The pain became unbearable, almost akin to torture. You couldn’t eat, sleep, or even think properly in the last couple of days. Functioning normally seemed impossible, and at times, it became so overwhelming that even breathing felt like a challenge. You didn’t know how to endure this any longer. You were painfully aware that each day was worse than the last, and yet there seemed to be no end in sight. You were drowning in a sea of agony, struggling to keep your head above water.
Despite the agony you endured, you were determined to bear the burden alone. You knew that all three of them wanted to help you, hating to see you suffer. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept their help. You didn’t want them to be involved with the curse in any way. Forgiving and moving on with your life would be impossible if they intervened, so you chose to ignore them and continue caring for yourself in your own way.
Thrusting your hands into the pockets of your raincoat, you gazed up at the reddening sky, returning from yet another unsuccessful job interview. How you wished the answer lay somewhere out there. You had tried everything written in all the sources you could access, masking your disappointment even as each failure chipped away at your hope. Trying to guess how they felt and what they were thinking only added to your frustration, yet you refrained from showing it, knowing they needed your support more than your despair. In the ten years since they were cursed, they had endured far more disappointments than you had faced in two months. You could imagine how futile it must have felt for them to continue hoping. They had exhausted their strength fighting disappointment after disappointment, opting instead to cherish the present moment—a reality that broke your heart a little.
The fact that they had accepted their situation and grown tired of fighting weighed heavily on you. Yet, you couldn’t blame them for choosing this path. Instead, you took it upon yourself to fight for them. However, with each passing day and no solution to the curse in sight, a heavy weight descended upon your shoulders, threatening to crush you. Despite the growing despair, you knew you had to keep fighting for them. You were their only hope, their only chance at breaking the curse.
Witnessing them struggle against the influence of their past only intensified your own turmoil. Despite Tomas sometimes managing to fall asleep, there were nights when he woke up with unfamiliar eyes, as if he didn’t recognize where he was, his body stiffening as if his breath would be snatched away. Occasionally, you were able to calm him down in the morning, but even then, Tomas seemed powerless against his own imposing body.
Kuai Liang, on the other hand, often woke up drenched in sweat from nightmares, avoiding your attempts to soothe him. He repeatedly muttered about his fear of contaminating you too, leaving you barely holding yourself together as you fought the urge to tightly embrace him. His pain was palpable, almost physically hurting you.
As for Bi-Han, there were times when he hadn’t slept for days, his body tensed with the need to protect them from imagined external dangers, leaving small traces of ice and freezing cold wherever he passed. Rings of exhaustion encircled his eyes, his face taking on a statuesque and lifeless appearance, his gaze fixed on the windows and doors. It took you hours to convince him that there was no imminent danger and coax him into relaxation.
All three of them exuded danger; their capabilities to take lives were apparent from their looks and the threatening aura they emitted. Their muscular, powerful bodies spoke of a lifetime of training for combat. This reality became especially clear when they touched you—it was too easy for them to cause harm if they chose to. They possessed a suppressed power that pained you to witness. Despite being honorable men, it must have wounded their pride and soul to see themselves in such a vulnerable state.
Your train of thought was abruptly halted by the sound of someone calling your name. As you lifted your gaze from the sidewalk, you were met with the sight of a stranger standing beside Sektor, the same man you had encountered weeks ago under rather peculiar circumstances. Sektor, as formal as ever, greeted you, his black hair streaked with long gray tufts and his neatly trimmed beard suggesting recent grooming. Standing beside him was a figure who exuded an otherworldly aura, his piercing blue eyes unsettling and filled with an uncanny intensity. With a formal gesture, he crossed his arms, revealing intricate dragon tattoos that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow, mirroring the luminance of his gaze. Despite the chill in the air, there was an unexpected warmth in his smile as he uttered your first and last name, as if he had been anticipating your arrival.
You stood frozen, momentarily taken aback by the presence of the enigmatic figure before you. Tentatively, you ventured, “Lord Liu Kang?”
“Yes,” came the calm reply, confirming his identity. Despite his formidable stature and commanding presence, his voice carried a soothing timbre, putting you somewhat at ease. Strands of his long, obsidian hair were gathered in a half bun behind him, dressed in traditional Far Eastern attire, his hands were swathed in bandages, to his hand to elbow. It was surprising to see him in such ordinary garb, far removed from the divine image you had conjured in your mind. Yet, there was an undeniable aura of power and authority that emanated from him, accentuated by the eerie glow of his tattoos and the intensity of his gaze.
“Sektor has briefed me on the situation and the curse,” Liu Kang continued, taking a deliberate step forward. “May I have a word?”
As you silently nodded in agreement, Liu Kang motioned for you to follow him, leaving Sektor behind as the two of you made your way to a more secluded area, away from the crowd.
“Do you know how to break Quan Chi’s curse?” you voiced the question that had been weighing heavily on your mind since you first laid eyes on him. As a god, you assumed he held the answers to questions and problems that eluded mortals.
“It’s a curse I’ve encountered before,” he replied, his demeanor calm yet tinged with a hint of anger that simmered beneath the surface. “An ancient and demonic curse, leaving behind lasting damage, particularly to the mind. I am familiar with how to dispel such curses, but the solution is not one you will easily accept.”
“I want to save them.” Your voice suddenly became muffled, the tears that filled up as you thought about this situation and tried to hold them back, now that the three of them were not around, instantly began to flow down your cheeks. If you were a little embarrassed that you were crying in front of this man-god you never knew, the helplessness and grief you felt was even greater. “I can’t let them go back to the book again. What needs to be done to lift the curse? Please tell me, this has to stop.”
“You possess a pure heart,” The Fire God’s gaze fell upon you, a mix of sorrow and compassionate understanding that softened his features. “It has become increasingly rare to encounter individuals like you in this day and age… Black magic is inherently cruel, and so are its remedies,” he continued, his expression growing solemn. “There is only one method to lift the curse: the owner of the book must make a sacrificial offering of themselves.”
You fell into a stunned silence, grappling with the weight of his words as they reverberated in your mind. Your lips parted, but for a moment, it felt as though words had deserted you. Eventually, you managed to utter a whisper-like voice.
“So, what you’re saying is…”
“Death,” Liu Kang interjected sharply, his tone cutting through the air with finality. “This curse, rooted in ancient and potent sorcery, is designed by practitioners of black magic like Quan Chi to be unbreakable. The spell binds not only the cursed individuals but also the owner of the book, tethering your life energy to its pages until they return to its confines. Thus, any attempt to resist only serves to intensify the curse’s grip, compelling you to act against your will. The only path to freedom is through the ultimate sacrifice.”
Liu Kang’s gaze darkened with anger, a muscle twitching on his chin as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes, which seconds ago were warm and comforting, now blazed with righteous fury, their intensity piercing through the air like a searing flame.
“The curse is insidious,” he began, his voice laced with frustration. “It draws power from your life energy and intertwines it with their fate. As long as the owner of the book lives, the curse will persist. However,” he continued, his tone lowering to a solemn register, “if the owner willingly sacrifices their life, the curse will vanish along with the book, its source extinguished forever. It’s a trade-off, a cruel exchange that inevitably claims one side or the other. That’s the essence of black magic.”
You found yourself speechless, unable to even swallow past the lump in your throat. The gravity of Liu Kang’s words hung heavy in the air, casting a pall over your thoughts. Sacrifice your own life? The notion seemed incomprehensible, unfathomable, yet here it was, staring you in the face like an immutable truth carved in stone. With your family, dreams, and aspirations still within reach, could you bear to relinquish it all? Could you summon the courage to make such a sacrifice?
Strangely, these questions didn’t pierce your heart as much as the thought of never seeing all three of them again. Each day seemed more agonizing than the last, and you knew that the brave facade you wore didn’t fool anyone. Yet, you couldn’t bear the idea of burdening them with the curse’s weight and prompting them to take drastic action. You had found them too soon to lose them; the prospect losing them now felt unbearably cruel, like a dagger twisting in your soul. Their presence had became so integral to your life that you had actually forgotten what loneliness felt like.
You loved them, each with their own unique characteristics and qualities, with a possessive and fierce intensity unlike any love you had ever known. So when the answer came to you in a heartbeat, it didn’t scare you; instead, it settled on your shoulders like a comforting blanket, a peaceful weight that affirmed your resolve. Their needs, desires, and happiness were paramount to you, more precious than anything else in the world. As you reflected on the countless hardships they had endured, the thought of subjecting them to further suffering became unbearable. The power to end their torment lay within your grasp; you could not turn away from that responsibility. Though you couldn’t be with them in the way you longed for, you were determined to secure their well-being, even if it meant sacrificing your own life. They deserved nothing less than to reclaim the lives they had been denied for so long, to find happiness and peace in a world free from the curse’s grip.
“You don’t have to do this,” Liu Kang said, his voice soft yet filled with understanding.
“And shall I allow them to return to the book? No, I will never allow it,” you declared, your voice ringing with newfound determination. “I made a promise to them… My love for them eclipses all else, even my own life.”
Even as the curse neared its end, you couldn’t bear the thought of it being their final memory, tainted by your tears and suffering as each day brought more agony. You wanted to leave them with fond memories, to be remembered in a positive light. The idea of confessing your love to them seemed daunting until just ten minutes ago. Despite never feeling ready to bid them farewell, you knew it was inevitable.
“How am I to do it? With a knife?” you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty. “I… I can’t take my own life. Will you help me?”
A myriad of emotions flickered across Liu Kang’s face, as if your question had unleashed a torrent of conflicting thoughts within him. You were taken aback by the sight of such ‘human’ emotions on the face of a god.
“I wish there were another way, one where you wouldn’t have to bear this burden alone,” Liu Kang sighed, his voice heavy with regret. “Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas aren’t merely my chosen warriors; they’re also my friends—more than just allies. You are sacrificing yourself to save them; of course, I will assist you in any way I can.”
“And will you make it as painless as possible?” you asked, your voice tinged with a slight fear.
With a solemn nod, Liu Kang replied, “They will remember this act of immense bravery and courage for the rest of their lives. Your sacrifice, while saving them, will also haunt them forever.’’ You acknowledged it inwardly. Yet, the moment Liu Kang proposed the solution, your decision was made. You meant every word you said; they meant more to you than anything else, and you wanted them to reclaim the life that had been stolen from them. If sacrificing yourself was the path to ensure their freedom, then so be it.
“I want to bid them farewell,” you said, your gaze falling to the ground. “But the final act… I cannot bear to do it in front of them, especially Tomas. After what happened to his family, it would be too traumatic for him.”
‘’Of course,” Liu Kang replied, his voice filled with understanding. You gulped and lifted your gaze to the sky, silently observing the clusters of red clouds and the golden sun, its light waning as it prepared to set. The realization that this would be your final sunset weighed heavily on your chest, a palpable heaviness that seemed to anchor you to the ground. As you tried to swallow past the lump in your throat, a tear escaped, tracing a solitary path down your cheek. Your voice emerged hoarse, almost strained with emotion.
“I wish it hadn’t come to this. I would have cherished more moments with them.”
“Sometimes, even a god cannot interfere in the complex fabric of life,” Liu Kang said, tilting his head back to gaze at the sky alongside you. “Each thread is woven with its purpose and outcome. There are two paths before you, and the latter entails your choice to end your life. While I respect your decision, I must ask one last time: are you certain about this?”
As Liu Kang’s luminous blue eyes bore into yours, a sense of calm washed over you, a tranquility that spoke of acceptance and resolve.
“More than anything.”
***
As you returned home, it felt as though your body no longer belonged to you. You couldn’t recall how you had made the journey back; it was as if you had been moving through molasses, each step slow and heavy. Though your surroundings appeared blurred, your thoughts remained clear, cocooning you in a blanket of comfort and unwavering determination.
Upon softly opening the door, the scene that greeted you shattered what little remained of your heart. Bi-Han occupied the single seat he always favored, gently stroking Ninja’s head as the cat slept soundly in his lap. A rare, tender smile graced his lips, a sight that had become increasingly frequent in recent days. Meanwhile, Kuai Liang and Tomas sat cross-legged, engrossed in something on your laptop, their occasional laughter filling the room with warmth and joy. The serene atmosphere tugged at your heartstrings, leaving you both comforted and conflicted. How could you possibly break the news of your decision to them?
Caught in a state of frozen uncertainty, it was Kuai Liang who first noticed your presence. His expression of happiness dissolved into pure astonishment at the sight of Fire God and Sektor standing behind you.
“Lord Liu Kang?” he exclaimed, disbelief evident in his voice. As his words hung in the air, the rest of the brothers turned their heads towards the entrance, mirroring Kuai Liang’s surprise. They remained rooted in place for a few seconds before Bi-Han took decisive action. Carefully lowering Ninja to the ground, he strode forward to stand before Liu Kang, bowing his head respectfully in greeting.
“Lord Liu Kang.” Bi-Han uttered, his tone a mixture of reverence and warmth.
Liu Kang’s gentle smile widened as he placed both hands on Bi-Han’s shoulders, lifting him upright. “Bi-Han, it has indeed been a long time,” he acknowledged. His glowing eyes shifted to encompass Tomas and Kuai Liang, who had gathered behind Bi-Han. “It is truly a pleasure to see the warriors of the Lin Kuei, defenders of Earthrealm, and my friends once again.”
“The pleasure is ours,” Kuai Liang replied, his voice infused with warmth and sincerity as Bi-Han’s. They all expressed their respect and embraced each other in a brotherly hug, a sight that surprised you, especially seeing a god joining in. Engaging in small talk, their camaraderie was palpable. Bi-Han’s gaze then shifted towards Sektor, who stood silently beside you. His brow furrowed slightly, silently questioning his right-hand man.
“Sektor? You didn’t come all the way here just to show Lord Liu Kang, did you? It’s still more than a week until you’re supposed to take the book.”
Sektor didn’t answer, instead, when he gave you an evasive glance, Bi-Han instantly caught his gaze and his expression hardened. As he crossed his arms on both sides, the cold waves of air that began to spread over him tingled your skin.
‘’What’s going on?’’
‘’Bi-Han,” you interjected in a gentle, strained voice, struggling to suppress your emotions while the curse writhed inside you more cruelly than ever. The pain surged higher and more severe than you were accustomed to, causing your knees to momentarily tremble. Bi-Han easily grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to himself, his expression shifting from one of composure to one of anxious concern in an instant, causing your heart to flutter. Knowing how strict he was with himself about showing his feelings compared to his brothers, it filled you with happiness to see how much he had progressed in such a short period of time. It was the greatest proof of the depth of his feelings for you. Bi-Han was a stoic man, never one to show vulnerability. Seeing him like this now was both heartwarming and overwhelming. He was laying himself bare before you, offering his feelings on a platter, and you realized you could easily hurt him if you chose to, because he was showing you his vulnerability so openly.
“Are you all right?” Bi-Han’s hand gently cupped your face, his calloused fingers stroking your cheek. “Did you cry?”
At his question, Tomas and Kuai Liang turned their gaze toward you. You quickly composed yourself, the callouses on his hand providing a comforting touch against your skin. With a slight tremble in your voice, you managed a reassuring smile, your eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and sadness. You wanted to remain strong until the very end, to etch a lasting impression in their minds.
“I’m fine,” you replied, your voice surprisingly calm despite the turmoil within. You savored Bi-Han’s protective touch, the coolness of his skin a stark contrast to the warmth of his presence. The scent of cold and fresh snow emanating from him filled your senses, your fingers traced the contours of his strong features lovingly, committing each curve to memory. A lump formed in your throat, making it hard to swallow, as you fought back tears that threatened to spill over. Gently winding the few remaining tufts of his black hair into a small bun, you planted a tender kiss on his pale lips, conveying all your emotions in that fleeting moment. Stepping back, you caressed his cheek one last time, the rough texture of his short stubble a familiar sensation against your fingertips. Bi-Han’s expression grew increasingly worried, his furrowed eyebrows revealing his confusion as he searched your eyes for answers.
However, instead of offering an explanation, you gently slipped out of Bi-Han’s grasp and made your way to Kuai Liang, who stood beside him.
“What’s going on? Why are you acting like this?” Kuai Liang’s voice was laced with concern as he carefully cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs stroking your skin. You responded with a soft smile, kissing one of his palms before silencing him by placing your finger on his lips. His brow furrowed in confusion, the joy from moments ago fading from his face. You felt a pang of guilt for dampening his spirits, but you knew that everything you were about to do was for their well-being. They would no longer suffer, be exploited, or have their consent disregarded. They would reclaim their dignified lives, where they rightfully belonged.
As Kuai Liang fell silent, you withdrew your hand, savoring the warmth emanating from his body for what would be the last time. Despite his formidable appearance, he exuded a comforting aura, his skin radiating health, his stance unwavering. The faint scent of ash, a remnant of his pyromancy, mingled with the aroma of cedar reminiscent of summer nights, enveloping his bronze-toned physique. His amber-brown eyes, usually filled with determination, now held a soft, worried gaze as they met yours.
Struggling to maintain your smile, you rose onto tiptoe and pressed a gentle kiss to Kuai Liang’s lips. “It will be all right.” you assured him, though your voice faltered toward the end. Blinking back tears that threatened to cloud your vision, you swiftly moved to Tomas’s side before Kuai Liang could reach out to you once more.
There was an obvious panic on Tomas’s young face as he scrutinized you from head to toe with his gray eyes. You felt a pang of guilt for causing such distress. Though you kept your shoulders straight, reminding yourself of your purpose, and tried to maintain a smile, tears welled up in your eyes again when Tomas uttered your name in desperation. Instantly, you enveloped him in a tight hug.
“Talk to us, what’s going on? Did someone hurt you? Just give us their names,” Tomas pleaded, his muscular arms circling you protectively, as if he wanted to shield you from everything, even though you were the one who wanted to do the same for him.
You shook your head in response, planting a kiss on Tomas’s cheek. The faint scent of embers lingered around him, reminiscent of burning wood. Whether from his smoke magic or not, the smell defined Tomas—wild and free. Despite his formidable abilities as an assassin, his naive trust in you was evident. Stepping back, you met his gaze, his gray eyes almost appearing blue in the light. Though he possessed frightening strength and abilities, the vulnerability in his eyes told a different story. Swallowing back your emotions, you resolved that he wouldn’t suffer from the curse’s torment any longer.
You remembered how Tomas had reacted when the power went out a few days ago—it was as if everything had been reset that evening, despite the progress he had made since leaving the book.
“Tomas, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re not in the book; look, I’m here. Your brothers are also here,” you reassured him, trying to calm his frantic state.
Thanks to the small fireball Kuai Liang created in his hands, Tomas became clearly visible. The silver-haired assassin stood frozen, breathing heavily, fists clenched, his gaze darting around erratically. Sweat matted his short hair against his forehead, glinting in the dim light of the room.
“Tomas,” you called softly again, reaching out to him, but Bi-Han stopped you, gripping your wrist firmly.
“He might hurt you,” Bi-Han warned, his voice harsh and protective. “He’s out of his mind right now, more like a cornered animal than a human being.”
“He’s just scared, that’s all,” you countered, disregarding Bi-Han’s warning. Carefully, you approached Tomas, making sure not to startle him further. “Tomas? Let me touch you, let me show you that you’re not there anymore.”
As you raised your hand to touch him, Tomas’s gaze fixed on you, his jaw clenched tightly. An angry, almost aggressive snarl escaped his lips. Bi-Han and Kuai Liang moved to protect you, but you signaled for them to stay put. Sudden movements and sounds would only agitate Tomas further.
“You’re not there, Tomas. It’s been two months since you came out of the book. You’re in my house, next to me. Look,” you reassured him, your hand gently touching his cheek. Tomas flinched violently, but he didn’t lash out. Though he remained as still as a statue, his gaze shifted to focus on you.
“You don’t want to scare Ninja anymore, do you?” you continued, noticing a slight softening in Tomas’s expression. A low, plaintive sound escaped his throat, resembling the whimper of a wounded animal. “Shh, everything is fine. I know, I know. Come, let me hug you.”
Gathering courage from his stillness, you wrapped your arms around him. Tomas melted into the embrace, his grip tightening around you as he took a sharp breath. Despite the pressure from his strong frame, you made no sound, understanding his need for this connection. As Tomas whispered your name like a prayer, your heart swelled with love and pain, wishing you could heal the wounds inflicted on his soul by the curse.
Your hand found the short tufts of gray hair, stroking them lovingly as you planted a kiss first on his cheek and then on his forehead. “I’m here. It’s all right, you’re safe, Tomas.”
And now you had the power to break this curse.
“You frighten me,” Tomas’s voice interrupted your thoughts, drawing your attention. His words echoed the fear and confusion swirling within you, amplifying the emotional turmoil.
You fought to maintain the dwindling smile on your face as you leaned in to kiss Tomas goodbye on the lips. Every touch, every gesture, was imbued with a depth of feeling that words could not fully express. It was a bittersweet farewell, filled with love and longing. Then, you turned to look at Kuai Liang and Bi-Han, their expressions clouded with concern.
“I love all three of you,” you whispered, the words heavy with emotion. For days, you grappled with how to express this overwhelming feeling, the realization that they had become the foundation of your world, each one holding a profound significance in your heart. The mere thought of voicing these sentiments once filled you with breathless anticipation, but now, as the words escaped your lips, they carried a weight you couldn’t bear alone. Indeed, the pain of the curse paled in comparison to the heaviness in your heart. “Please don’t be angry with anyone, okay?”
“Why are you saying these things?” Bi-Han’s voice cut through the air like shards of ice, his tone rigid and unyielding. Understanding his reaction became easier as you got to know him. He tended to become aggressive when he didn’t want to show his emotions – especially when panicked or afraid. This was one of those moments.
“To whom, why should we be angry?” Tomas’s voice conveyed his confusion. His genuine perplexity only served to deepen the ache in your chest, reminding you of the innocence he still retained despite everything he had endured. You took a deep breath, after stroking Tomas’s cheek for the last time, you stepped back. However, Kuai Liang stopped you by grabbing your arm.
“Tell us what’s going on.” he demanded, his voice taking on a tone you had never heard before. It was the first time you heard him speak like this. Despite his usual warmth and politeness, even when discussing his past, his voice now turned cold, almost resembling that of his older brother, but never had it been this harsh and demanding.
“I will lift the curse,” you stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. “It’s my decision, so don’t hate me or anyone in this room for this, okay? I want what’s best for you.”
“Don’t we have a say in this? And how will you lift the curse?” Kuai Liang’s tone showed his displeasure. He shook you, and the words came out as a snarl. The fire burning in his eyes was evident, his touch alarmingly hot. But behind this intensity, the concern and fear he felt were clear in his expression, open and vulnerable. “Speak!”
“This is a farewell,” Bi-Han said in a single breath, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. “You are saying goodbye to us.”
“No!” Tomas, standing up to Kuai Liang, grabbed your other arm and turned you around to face him. “Tell me it’s a lie.”
You swallowed hard. As your composure, which you tried to maintain, slowly crumbled, your lower lip trembled, and tears flowed freely. An expression of denial appeared on the faces of the three of them, indicating their refusal to accept what was about to happen.
“I’d love to,” you responded to Tomas. “But Bi-Han is telling the truth.” After inhaling deeply, you squared your shoulders and fought back the tears. “I love all three of you very much. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I made a promise, and I will keep it. I will set you free.”
“How?!” Bi-Han appeared in front of you with a roar, gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his furious gaze. “Whatever sacrifice you’re considering, I won’t allow it. Do you hear me?! You’re not doing anything! We will find another solution.”
“There is no other solution,” you said tearfully, freeing yourself from his grip and placing your hand on his. “I can’t set you free any other way, Bi-Han.”
“No. I said no damnit!” Bi-Han’s voice was adamant. “You stubborn woman, listen to me; I won’t allow it.”
“I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice trembling. “I wish there was another way, but it’s the only way, and I’m ready to fulfill it gladly. I’m not going to let you stop this.” You glanced over your shoulder at Liu Kang. The Fire God watched in silence, his gaze betraying a mix of sadness and anger at the injustice of the situation. “I am ready.”
As Liu Kang nodded his approval, an aggressive growl rumbled from Bi-Han’s throat, his dark, furious gaze fixed on Liu Kang now. Layers of frost and sharp ice began to grow on his skin, a chilling armor of determination as he prepared to confront a god to protect you. It was evident that while they respected Liu Kang deeply, you held an even greater significance to them in that moment, compelling them to face him in order to shield you from harm.
“Don’t you fucking dare. Don’t come close—” he warned, his voice carrying the weight of finality.
“I have the utmost respect for you, Lord Liu Kang, but if you take one more step, I will have to attack you.” Tomas’s voice pierced the tense air, devoid of its usual warmth, cold and chillingly clear. His bright eyes, once filled with warmth, now darkened and focused with an intensity that chilled you more than Bi-Han’s powers.
Aware that what you were about to do would haunt you forever, you steeled yourself. Despite the weight of your decision, there was no other choice. Your sole aim was to bring an end to this ordeal swiftly and without further harm. The thought of anyone else being affected by the curse was unbearable.
“Nobody’s going to do anything,” you said, turning your gaze away from Bi-Han and fixing it on the wall behind him. You couldn’t bear to meet their eyes. “I order all three of you to remain in your places and not to move.”
Your command hung in the air, heavy and tense. A suffocating silence descended upon the room, broken only by the sound of their ragged breaths. This was the first and last time you’d give them orders. It was for their sake, but it didn’t ease the guilt gnawing at you. You’d betrayed their trust. A few more tears escaped down your cheeks as you walked towards the book on the kitchen counter, still avoiding their gazes. You easily slipped out of Bi-Han’s loosening grip, determined to see this through to the end.
As you mentally prepared to pick up the book and materialize into the Fire Temple, it remained stubbornly unmoved. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried to lift it with both hands, but it felt as if the book weighed a ton. A searing heat radiated from your fingertips to your hand, threatening to melt your skin and expose your bones if you held on any longer. With a small whimper, you pulled your hands back, and Liu Kang came into view.
“The curse knows what you’re about to do, that’s why it won’t let the book move.” He explained.
“But… if we can’t take it with us—then…” you trailed off, a sense of helplessness washing over you.
“Yes,” Liu Kang replied in a carefully flat voice.
“I don’t want them to witness this,” you said, your eyes flickering to the three men you held dear. Their faces revealed a tumult of emotions—betrayal, concern, and fear all intertwined. Despite their futile attempts to defy your command and approach, their efforts proved fruitless. Veins protruded on their skin, and deep furrows etched across their foreheads, with Tomas even beginning to bleed from his nose. Knowing there was no alternative, you fought back a fresh wave of tears, though they continued to betray your resolve. “All right,” you sniffed, quickly dabbing your eyes to dry the tears, lifting your chin to meet Liu Kang’s gaze once more. “Do it quickly, please.”
“Liu Kang!” Kuai Liang shouted, trying to launch the fireballs that appeared in both his hands but failing because of some kind of invisible wall that forced him to stay still. “Don’t you dare hurt her!”
“Get away from her!” Bi-Han said furiously. “I swear, if you touch her, I’ll fucking kill you!”
“No, you won’t hurt him.” In as soft a voice as possible, the second command poured from your lips. “This is my last plea to you, please don’t hurt anyone.” Your gaze turned to Sektor, who caught your wordless request. With silent steps, his head tilted to the ground, he approached, took out the hunting knife from the scabbard at his waist, and handed it to Liu Kang.
“No!” Tomas struggled on the spot, shouting, trying every way to break free from the order that was suppressing him. It destroyed you to feel the desperation in his voice. “No, Sektor, stop! Lord Liu Kang, don’t do this. Please!”
“Place your hand on the book. I know it will hurt you, but I will make it as quick and light as possible,” Liu Kang said, falling deaf to the screams behind him. However, there was a weight in his voice that made him seem more mature than he was. You did what he said, taking strength from the gentle expression on his face to keep you calm. A sizzle rose up in your flesh. You bit your lower lip and held yourself back from squealing in pain. You were going to handle this quietly; you were going to stand strong for them.
‘’Repeat after me: as the keeper of this book, I offer a pact. I unbind Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, and Tomas from the Lin Kuei Clan, the chains that tether them to this book, in exchange for the sacrifice of my own life. From this moment onward, they shall walk free from this curse. My blood and my life shall seal these words.’’
After you echoed his words, despite the screams and chaos around you, Liu Kang delivered the first stab with the knife from Sektor. When the blade pierced under your ribs, you gasped sharply. The pain was more sudden and searing than you had anticipated. Your balance wavered, and the burning pain in your hand seemed insignificant compared to the deep cut now bleeding beneath your ribs. As your misty gaze fell on the book under your hand, you saw the length of the cut forming there.
“Stop! By the elder gods, please stop! Bi-Han, brother, stop them!” Tomas’s desperate cries rang in your ears. Turning your head to him, you murmured in a voice hoping to comfort him.
“It doesn’t hurt, I swear.” Tomas’s expression shattered, his gray eyes shining with unshed tears, making him look younger and more vulnerable than ever. “It’s okay, everything will be okay.”
When Liu Kang raised his hand for the second blow, you closed your eyes. At that moment, Bi-Han’s furious, despairing voice cut through the air, filled with deadly determination.
“Liu Kang, she’s innocent! Stop it now, or I swear to you—No!” Bi-Han’s voice rang out as the knife plunged into your stomach. Your knees buckled, and you collapsed to the ground, but you kept your hand on the book despite the pain. Your hand went numb, whether from the pain or from the nerves being destroyed, you couldn’t tell. Everything had become a big ball of agony. The metallic taste of blood rose in your throat, filling your mouth. You coughed to avoid choking, and blood splattered around, some of it flowing down your lips.
‘’It’s okay… It… Doesn’t hurt.’’ You managed to murmur, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. Your lips felt numb, as if disconnected from your voice, and your tongue seemed to weigh heavy in your mouth.
“Don’t lift the curse, stop!” Kuai Liang’s cries were muffled by the pounding in your ears. Everything around you blurred into a chaotic whirl of colors and sounds, like trying to focus underwater. Each breath was a struggle, a battle against an unseen weight pressing down on your chest. Despite the pain, you clung to consciousness, fighting to stay present amidst the overwhelming haze of approaching death. “Don’t take her away from us. Please, Liu Kang, stop this madness! Let the curse stay, we want it back. Give it back—Just stop!’’
Liu Kang didn’t stop. As he lowered the knife for the third time, aiming for your heart, you felt a deep slit open in the cover of the book under your hand. Despite the excruciating pain, a weak smile formed on your face as you realized the curse had finally been lifted. It was over. They were free now. You could feel the pressure of the curse lifting, and you knew they must have felt it too. As blood continued to rise from your throat, flowing relentlessly from your lips like a crimson cascade, Liu Kang hesitated before withdrawing the knife, gently lowering you to the ground. Numbness crept through your body like tendrils of frost, slowly engulfing your senses. The pain, once sharp and all-consuming, now ebbed away like a receding tide, leaving behind a dull ache. As your vision blurred and darkness encroached, you could barely discern the outlines of three figures, their forms wavering like shadows in the fading light.
You tried to talk. To say that it doesn’t hurt, you’re glad that you finally lifted the curse and set them free, to say that you loved them with all of your heart even words cannot describe how you felt for them. But the words tumbled meaninglessly from your lips, your tongue felt too heavy and it became increasingly difficult to breathe.
“Shhh, don’t talk. We will save you, qīn’ài. Everything’s going to be fine.”
You felt a hand on top of your head, the gentle caress tracing soothing circles. It was Kuai Liang, you surmised from the familiar touch. His fingers moved with care, each stroke bringing a fleeting warmth that chased away a fraction of the cold surrounding you. Then, a sudden pressure on your wounds jolted you, eliciting a sharp whimper that escaped your lips.
‘’You foolish, stubborn woman! We won’t let you go, did you hear me? Don’t you dare give up on us now. I’ll make your life hell after the act you pulled.”
Bi-Han’s words echoed in your ears. Despite the harshness of his tone, you detected the underlying concern beneath his façade, acknowledging the conflict in his emotions. Each breath became more labored, and you wished desperately to convey your remorse to them. But deep down, you knew that if faced with the same choice again, you would make it without hesitation. Because your love for them outweighed everything else. Yet, as another cough wracked your body, you realized that words were futile. Numbness enveloped you completely, and the chill in the air seeped into your bones, causing you to shiver uncontrollably. You surrendered to the encroaching darkness, unable to resist its pull.
Your heart beat weakly one last time, then stopped completely.
***
Author’s Note: My apologies for the cliffhanger! But I’ve already started writing the next chapter, so you won’t have to wait too long again unless something important comes up. Also, I’ve decided to turn this into a series, as I have a couple of ideas brewing. If you have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to share them with me on my blog. If I find them interesting or relevant to the story, I’ll incorporate them into it and give you credit.✨
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heartofbusan · 3 months ago
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The sun's radiant vibe.
Rebirth and the declaration of Park Jimin.
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DPPAKCVBMMNNN HES SO PRETTY. HELP. FOCUS.
Over on Twix, a quietly renowned translator named Colin delivers his version of lyric translations for nearly all BTS songs. He just posted his translations of MUSE and boy..🫠...be sure to read them as they are well thought out and nuanced. It's just beautiful the way he seeks to find the most fitting word to convey a feeling. His translation made me realize that people been sleeping on Rebirth. Not only streaming wise, it's kinda lagging behind, but lyrics wise as well.
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It's been my clear favorite since I first heard it. It reminds me of church music, say I the atheist. But it's the way that choirs can move your soul with those soaring compositions and exalted professions of love for the glorious in a harmonious coming together of voices. It's just so beautiful. I can hear you screaming: THERE’S AN ACTUAL CHOIR SINGING ALONG, OH, so that might just be it, Sherlock 🧐 ok ok. Noted.
It's also that line: "With you. I will be your reason, reason." He's singing his promise, his praise.
Rebirth is Jimin laying his love at the altar, ready to be either burned or scorned or blessed. In any case, he's no longer hiding. He's professing. He's been through utter despair, and there was his love, arm outstretched. He wants to be as one.
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Furthermore, i think Rebirth is kind of a coda to the closing song of FACE: Letter.
If Letter is a quiet confession, whispered from one lover's lips to the other's ear, warm breath tickling his hair, then Rebirth is Brat.
Rebirth is one hell of an opening song. Bold and bravely confident, utterly romantic in the meeting your lover at dawn kinda way. But the irony lies in that it would be an amazing closing song of an album. The way the choir lingers and the music resonates long after the song has ended. The clapping! It screams, ending concert song, and the audience is absolutely weeping, hugging their seat mates, mascara running, chimmy headband drooping.
There's probably a technical explanation for why, but I'm telling you, a closing song. Because once Showtime (interlude) hits, we're in a totally new environment audibly and emotionally. Yet it had to be the intro because it's the seed that was planted in FACE.
Rebirth is this Jimin:
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"Both he and the object of his affection have feelings for each other." It's mutual. Equal. I am you, you are me much?!
"So that I can sing as we lock eyes." Insert TTU 'But I still want you.' gif here
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"...implying that the other person won't let him remain hidden."
'In my despair, you act as light. Like the sun's radiant vibe, You pass by me tenderly.'
The sun is tenderly beckoning him with its warmth, to finally step into the light. We all know who has been there for Jimin throughout 2022/2023, encouraging him both publicly with his simping and privately.
Jimin told Namjoon in MMM that JK diligently helped him, assisting him when he spent two months re-training his voice for longevity.
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I don't want to read more into the lines of a song that could also be totally make-believe, but it's Jimin were talking about. A man who is willing to break down himself, piece by piece, to rebuild himself back stronger, more confident, and with his eye firmly set towards the future. Do we think he wouldn't speak in these exalted terms about his good love? Have you heard Letter!?!
*DEEEP SIGH*
No wonder Jimin wants to give pay back in bedtime cuddles. 🙂‍↕️
Rebirth is so confident, and it's not only the lyrics mind you. It's also the way he sings notes we haven't heard him sing this brazenly before. I will scream into the void once he performs this live someday. CAN YOU IMAGINE?!
Stream Muse and Rebirth for Real Love.
TLDR: Jimin is GOAT, author a simp.
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spacebaby1 · 5 months ago
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After You (PART 2)
(Reader!Nanami's widower / Gojo Satoru)
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You sat on the couch with Gojo beside you, and the lawyer started to gather out a few papers and a will. "Mr. Nanami Kento had written a will on the start of this year. He had stated the following," said the lawyer, " The real estate property, the house will be on your name; Mrs. Nanami. There's a trustfund of 400 million japanese yen at your name, Mrs. Nanami. Both your sons are beneficiaries of 30% each that will be given to them when they are at the legal age and it's for the university studies leaving you with 40% of the rest of the trustfund to which you are free to access whenever you want. These are the documents that you need to sign and there is also a letter for you Mrs. Nanami, who was written to read after the funeral of Mr. Nanami kento." He handed you an envelope, and you immediately took it, "there is also one for Mr. Gojo Satoru.
Satoru frowned his brows when the lawyer handed him an white envelope. You signed the papers that you were required not caring much about anything that's money related.
Nanami had no living relatives and you and his two kids were the only soul living family that he had; the same goes to you.
The lawyer left shortly after as you got up from the couch to read the letter that your dear husband left behind, "My sweetheart, my beloved, my wife. I love you. If you are reading this then I am probably not beside you. Forgive me for not being there my beloved. I know you are holding on strong for our two beautiful boys," tears fill your eyes and you rapidly whipped them away reading the letter, "Our two beautiful blessings, I am sure that you are probably in pain and probably angry at me for leaving but I believe in you. You are stronger than you think you are, my brave girl my sweet love of my life, forgive me for leaving. I need you to trust yourself, it's okay to grief my darling, you are still young and you have dreams that you deserve to achieve with or without me. Keep my words in your heart when I tell you to choose your happiness, your life; our two beautiful blessings need their strong mama, love them on my behalf too. They're strong but be their shine. I need you to live without thinking that I'm gone," you sobbed loud but kept reading more, "there are times where you'll need me but you will find me in our boys and I am sure that they will take a great care of you my beautiful wife, there are times where things will be difficult but I will always look after you and I want you to live, fall in love, marry if the right person captures your heart..." You cried, "No, nono Nanam-why" you sobbed and sat on the couch, pulling the letter closer, "I love you but you will find the best that will stay with you and keep you safe, loved, adored and happy. Don't let me hold you back at all my beautiful darling. I love you and I loved you till my last breath, this may sound not so my thing to say but I am sure that Satoru will always be there by your side to look after you for me. My beloved please take care of yourself until we'll meet in another life, your husband, i love you." You hugged the letter to your chest as you cried.
Satoru on the other hand had years falling from his eyes holding back cries as he read his letter written only for him to read, "...Please take care of my beloved wife, she has out two beautiful blessings but no one else. She's a kind heart and a beautiful person and I don't think I need to remind you this because you of all people know her and as a friend I am asking you to take care of her always if you can." Gojo whipped his eyes, "show my boys the love that you shows Megumi, please keep them in your eyes as you kept your little Megumi in your heart. Take care of my family. Love, Your friend, Nanami kento." Putting the letter in his pocket Satoru made his way to sit next to you and you hugged him crying as he soothed your hair, "I-I can't do this without him, I mi-miss Nanami. I'm scared G-Gojo I'm so scared to live without my husband." You sobbed on his shirt covering it with your stained tears as Satoru hugged you tight holding his tears back but failing everytime so he let you cry in his arms till you fell asleep with painful hiccups leaving your lips every other second. Satoru sighed as he placed a gentle hand on your head before carefully picking you up and heading upstairs.
He placed you on your bed, pulling the blanket over you as you slept. He carefully picked sleepy Choso from the bed and headed to the kids' room, putting little choso to sleep, then checked on baby yuji before heading downstairs. His phone rang, and it was Shoko, "Hey, I got a call from the hospital. Are you still at Y/n's? Is it okay if I bring Megumi there?"
Gojo didn't want to leave you alone right now, "Yes, shoko. Thank you for babysitting Gumi, I think Y/n isn't doing okay and she's sleeping which is why i kinda don't want to leave her alone so I'll be here for a bit bring Megumi here."
"Poor y/n I hope her heart heals everyday, you're an amazing friend for looking out for her, give her my love when she wakes up. I'll be there in a few minutes."
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skyartworkzzz · 5 months ago
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Cult of the Goat rambling
Came up with some lore ideas, gonna put it here til Im able to draw it out!
Also mixing up with @lenorblr 's idea of the Old Gods still being around! (bless u again for sharing this with me <3 )
So, as Ive estabilished before, this universe is like a Fell version of COTL to me But how do we make an universe already quite spooky edgier? By alterning the GOOD things that happened in it What if those things did not happen?
Yk how Shamura was the one responsible for showing a world of wisdom to Narinder, until he carried on with it greedily and got punished for it? What if Shamura was the one on board with it but not Narinder? Given that the morals are reversed here, I think Narinder would be the kindest out of all the other Bishops, meaning that hed probably be the one to empathize and be able to recognize recklessness the best Shamura got all the Bishops on their side, but once Narinder expressed disdain for where their plans were going, they all sealed him away into his own domain
Since the Old Gods would still be around, the Bishops would be at constant war with them while trying to maintain their power over their own Lands (I like to think that since these are Gods we are talking about, itd be a bigass territorial and devotional conflict) So naturally, the world got much gloomier and dangerous than usual, the monsters became more terrifying and the biomes grew more traitorous, it is incredibly hard to survive in this world if u are not within the Bishops' domain/kingdom walls. Anyone outside of it cannot be trusted
NOW WHERE DOES THE GOAT COME IN THIS: Instead of being sacrificed in order to appease Narinder, the goats are sacrificed in order to empower the Bishops, which have been looking for ways to become stronger to face the Gods, so naturally these species quickly came to extinction until The Goat was the only one left
When they were executed, just as originally, their soul was transported to Narinders domain, and there they became his vessel
ALAS and however, instead of intending to free himself for the sake of power, Narinder wishes to be free in order to stop his siblings since he is the only one who can. So in order to do that, he makes the Goat his vessel and asks for a cult to be started in his name; the more devotion, the more powerful he grows, until inevitably the Goat has to lay down their own life
Now les say u could choose whether ud want to or not: If you lay down your life, the Goat is murdered and Narinder is fred, therefore implying he escapes his prison and went on to battle against his siblings As an extra, if this were to be game-esque, I imagine a post or pre-credits scene where the Goat can be seen walking into the afterlife with all the others of their kind welcoming them in
If you don’t lay down your life, the Goat offers themselves to become Narinder’s literal vessel. They would go back to the world of the living while possessed by Narinders aura, and thats how theyd beat the Bishops all at once
Once the battle is over, Narinder projects himself out as their shadow and expresses how reckless but brave they were, also pointing out that he is rather impressed by how resistent of a vessel they ended up being Narinder then warns about now being trapped inside of the Goats body and that they have consequently made themselves the new God of Death, given that they now possess Narinders powers. The Goat accepts such fate and is allowed to continue as a cult leader
So in the end, we have a Gods Vessel with their divine living inside their mind and body, both holding custody of the Crowns power like a single person And still having to face the Old Gods but thats for later brainstormi-
Eventually I think if there were to be a Mystic Seller, they would be responsible for freeing Narinder from the Goats body and giving him a mortal carcass. Before it was done tho, the MS wouldve likely warned both about their powers: Narinder would have to be reborn as a mortal in order to be his own person again, since the Crown cannot sit upon 2 brows, unless the Goat would be willing to sacrifice themselves which- hm. I think if this was once again in a game-style - before the options would show up to us - Narinder would interrupt to say he agrees with his condition Honestly I think he would be pretty chill with that LMAO just like “welp Ive done my part already, now its time to retire”, or be like “you wear the Crown well, u should keep it” @ the Goat, so he is revived and made into a follower with no personal problems
IK SOME OF THESE THINGS STILL DONT MATCH Ill likely play around with these ideas and doodle it out to test waters, BUT YEAH thats my interpretations thus far x’D
Hope yall like it! Thank chu for reading <3
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spacebarbarianweird · 3 months ago
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I can't wait to read about Astarion and sweet Tiri adventuring together but in the meantime... could you please treat us with a drabble when they see each other for the first time after Tiri is old enough to show her personality? A little girl who would love unicorns being left alone with her sarcastic vampire grandpa for a moment, the only grandparent she has.
You've sent me so many requests and I barely wrote any of them. So here is a treat and a sneak into the future where Astarion finds himself in a company of his granddaughter Tiri (Tiriel) Goldenroot and her pet dragon Aurix!
Astarion's Little Fire
Summary: This story is set 25 years after the events of the Mortal Bounds Series (which I haven't finished yet) and this drabble will be part of the final chapter. Alethaine Ancunin defeats the demons, avenges her dhampir cousins, marries her thiramin Elren Goldenroot, and together they become the first High King and High Queen of the Elves. They name their only daughter Tiriel in honor of Alethaine’s mother - and the red-headed ranger is ready to see the world on her own
Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, fluff, Astarion's granddaughter
Alethaine's age: 325 Baby Tiri's age: 23
Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
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Astarion watches the night skies. The sea is stormy and the relentless winds howl through Darknest, home of the Blood guild, the unlikely alliance between the few dhampirs left and vampires. Hopefully, none of them are Cazador's spawns. 
Astarion loves being in charge. He loves being in control. He is the oldest of all of them and they watch him with respect.
Astarion opens his arm embracing the cold wind.
340 years of being free. Cazador tortures are left in the past. The years of freedom that followed the Netherbrain’s defeat eventually wiped away the torture of the previous decades.
Astarion was married. He loved his wife with all his selfish, undead heart. Tiriel died. Yes, she did die almost two centuries ago yet Astarion keeps seeing her whenever he trances. It’s always painful to come back to the reality where Tiriel doesn’t even have a grave.
She had red hair.
Freckles.
She was loud and funny. Kind. Loving. Fierce and brave. 
Alethaine, their daughter, is nothing like her. Astairon smiles. He rarely sees his daughter anymore. The cursed elven kingdom separated them. Alethaine followed her husband and her people, and the strong magic of the Isle of Evermeet doesn't tolerate the presence of the undead like himself. 
Actually, Astarion has seen her only once in the last twenty-five years. Alethaine came to Darknest as a Queen, with guardians, obedient to her will. She didn’t need them, but oh, did she love having them around to highlight her new position.
Astaron raised his princess right.
And even his biggest fear didn’t come true! He was afraid his daughter would be alone. That he doomed his princess to a lifetime of loneliness and misery.  But it seems like all elves are created in pairs. For Alethaine the necromancer there is Elren the monster slayer. 
Astarion doesn't like admitting it, but he adores his son-in-law. And he knows Tiriel would have loved him too, should half-elves have been blessed with longer life spans. 
Besides, Elren deserves respect for not being afraid to be around a vampire. 
Suddenly, Astarion's undead feelings stir.
There is someone alive in the castle. Some unfortunate soul has decided to hide from the storm in Darknest. 
The presence of warm blood is like a drug to an addict. Astarion is already sensing the other vampires moving through the halls.
Astarion crawls up the ceiling. None of the vampires would dare attack a visitor (Astarion has standards and the guild has rules), but whoever has come better not tease the dead.
He quickly moves to the main hall.
Yes, the prey is there.
The fireplace casts shadows on the walls. And there are two living creatures.
A small dragon, the size of a cat, sleeps peacefully on the burning wood, snoring like a kitten.
“Oh…” Astarion hears a girlish voice. “Hi!”
The intruder is a young elven girl barely adult enough to leave her home. She is five feet tall and her red hair is loose. A pair of green eyes study Astarion without fear. 
She wears traveling clothes made of the finest elven fabric; her cloak is adorned with elven symbols. The only odd thing about her is a macabre head circlet with a small skull.
The girl’s ears twitch as she puts her bow behind her back. The dragon stretches and jumps out from the fireplace. It crawls up the girl's shoulder and watches Astarion with curiosity.
“Hi,” the girl repeats. Her heart races faster. She starts getting scared. 
The heart…
Astarion jumps on the floor and moves closer to the girl. 
He recognizes this heartbeat though he heard it only once, twenty-five years ago.
When he was carrying a weak and wounded Alethaine back from the battlefield.
The second heartbeat in his daughter’s belly. 
“Well, I suppose only my granddaughter, Tiriel Goldenroot, could break into a vampire castle,” he chuckles.
“It's your castle and your guild and technically I can come without an invitation,” Tiri says.
Atsarion gives out a laugh. All these years he was imagining the first time he would meet his baby granddaughter. What he would tell her, what she would look like.
Tiri opens her arms and hugs him.
She is warm like a fireplace and her heart is loud like a dragon’s roar.
Little Fire, Astarion remembers. Alethaine and Elren call her Little Fire.
The small dragon finally gets bored of sitting in the fireplace and crawls to Tiri.
“Oh, and this is Aurix.” She grabs the dragon as if it were a kitten and pushes it into the Astarion's arms. The dragon seems made of warm stones. “I can stay here with you, right?”
… They spend the next day talking. Tiri listens to all his stories with her eyes wide open, and by the time the storm ends, Astarion has promised her that he will leave the castle and guild to some of his subordinates and would follow her to the mainland. 
Astarion is amused by how much of a vampire Tiri ISN’T. She is mortal, she is scared of the dark and of cursed places. Spiders, skeletons, and skulls disgust her, and Tiri even admits she has never been to her mother’s dungeon. 
“I like the woods,” Tiri says. “O’Su taught me how to survive there if I am on my own. O’si tried to teach me how to identify the undead and the ghouls but… well it didn’t end well,” she adds.
When Tiri gets tired and falls into a trance curled by the fireplace in Astarion’s room, the vampire returns to the main hall where a few of the guild members are already hiding from the sun.
In all honesty, it would be fun to become an adventurer once again.
“Anyone scares her,” Astarion says, “and I will make sure your limbs won’t regenerate. Also,  I am also leaving. Who wants to be in charge?”
**
Tiri thinks she hears the sounds of а bloodbath from below.
Darknest is creepy, but what did she expect by deciding to visit her grandfather? 
What really surprises her is how warm it is inside. 
Of course, the undead and dhampirs are always freezing. Vampires can’t warm themselves up and are attracted to fireplaces like moths to lights. And dhampirs have cold hands. 
Tiri’s mother, High Queen Alethaine, wraps herself in thick black fabric even on the hottest days and she actually enjoyed looking after Aurix’s egg in the fire when he was hatching – meanwhile, Tiri would feel dizzy after a minute spent there. 
Tiri hears Astaron’s voice – he’s encouraging his subordinates to fight. 
The voice causes a memory to materialize – Tiri has started reliving real events only recently and the experience bewilders her.
In this memory, Tiri is only 5 and she’s just had the biggest revelation in her short life.
“O’si,” she whispers to her mother who sits in a chair and is engrossed in some ancient book. 
“What is it, Little Fire?” Alethaine asks, closing the book as if its contents weren’t meant for the child’s eyes. 
Tiri doesn’t answer and crawls onto her mother's lap. Then, she presses her ear to Alethaine’s chest. 
“Why don’t you breathe?” Tiri asks. 
Alethaine caresses her ears. “Well, because I am a dhampir. Do you know what vampires are?”
Tiri gives an answer. Scary creatures, dead slaves to their hunger, cursed spawns of the darkness. That’s what they say in stories.
And then another revelation happens.
“My dad, your grandpa, can’t come here because he is a vampire. He died many centuries ago and ever since he has to drink blood and hide from the sun. My mum, Tiriel, I named you after her. She saved him from his master and they lived together. I am half-undead. That’s why I don’t breathe and can bring you down the tree when you get stuck.”
“But you are an elf!”
“I am. As is your grandpa. You will meet him when you grow up. He is a menace,” she laughs, baring her fangs.
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slashers-and-rats · 1 year ago
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how dare you?
priest!billy x fem!reader | nsfw | choking
rat chat: i said i would write something for that priest!au. I’m delivering!! eat up!!
you had said his name. you said his actual fucking name.
how dare you?
for you to have come over during a sermon of all things, sitting down next to him as if you were on the same level as he was, and then to so easily say, in a hushed tone right near his ear, “it’s so good to see you, billy”… it was brave. he had to give you that. but at the same time, it was disgusting, it was wrong, it had to be.
billy and you weren’t the same. you weren’t allowed to utter his name. you were lustful, a succubus in human clothes, you must’ve been. all those nights he spent talking to you over the phone, all those nights he spent listening to you lead him by his very own collar and make him spout sins he’d never say to anyone else, had proved to him you weren’t of this world. you couldn’t be. it couldn’t be his fault that he wanted to bend you over the pews and stuff you full of his cock. it couldn’t be his own overwhelming need that made him want to make you worship his dick the same way he saw you pray during services. it couldn’t be. it had to be the work of the devil, you had to be some kind of demon, this had to be a trick…
otherwise, how did you know it was him? he couldn’t have given it away, could he have? he was so careful to make sure you didn’t recognize his voice over the phone, or at least the one he used in public around his peers. he made sure what he told you was patchwork, different voices jumping into the fray every few seconds. he made sure he only used the name billy. you had said billy, just now. not micheal. he was micheal now, you were supposed to know him as micheal, how had you figured him out, how, how, how-
“thank you all for coming to evening mass. god bless you, and have a lovely night.” the words of the pastor pulled him back down to earth. it felt like he was an asteroid; he had divided up in the atmosphere, and by the time he hit the ground he was nothing but a pebble. a small, weak little thing. he felt small in your presence. he liked it better when you didn’t sit beside him, when you just whimpered quiet over the phone, pretending that you weren’t getting off to those things he said.
he couldn’t look at you. he knew you were beside him, you hadn’t moved when the priest started talking. he had been stuck with you. you just sat there like nothing was wrong, like you hadn’t ripped into his entire being and forced him to bare himself. how dare you?
billy felt the air beside him shift as you stood. it was the end, after all, why would you stay? only as you began to walk off did he look up at you. there he saw you glance down at him, give a small smile, and then retreat through the doors towards the dormitories.
how dare you?
that smile… it made billy’s skin hot. it made the liquid in his stomach into crashing waves against his insides. it made him feel like he would break out into a sweat. it made him nervous. it was a knowing grin, so subtle yet so obvious. you knew too much already. it’s like you had looked into his very soul.
maybe you were the devil?
without thinking, billy pushed himself up from the bench. he stood for a moment, gathering himself. he had to look normal. he couldn’t look like the mess you had turned him into on the inside. to these people, the other priests and pastors and nuns; they all knew him as kind. kind, but troubled. trying. he tried so very hard to seem put together, to hide that deep inner turmoil, and yet…
and yet he was near running out of the main hall. he didn’t bother to stop at the nuns as they asked why he was in such a rush, he didn’t sit in on the other priests’ conversations as they waved him over to his usual spots, he didn’t thank the pastor for his sermon like he always did- he had a mission. he weaved his way through the group, not even bothering to wipe the bit of drool that was beginning to pool on his lips, or hold back the intense stare he had. he was hunting, he couldn’t be bothered to focus on such silly things.
he slipped out of the main hall, following the path he saw you take. you were a bit ahead of him, walking with no purpose, simply making your way back to your dorm room without a thought in the world. no one else was in these corridors with you, everyone was still revelling in the good word.
all except you. all except billy.
you didn’t even look back. he knew you could hear his footsteps fast approaching, he knew you could feel his presence. his was the aura of a holy man, and yours was the vixen trying to poison him with sin. the air between you two swirled with the opposing forces. why didn’t you look back at him then? why did you keep just far enough ahead that he felt like a dog chasing a squirrel? you were just out of reach, and yet if he got any closer, he felt as though you two would repel each other like magnets. or maybe…
you stopped in front of your door, keeping your eyes ahead as you unlocked it with your keys. you had had them ready. for a moment, billy thought you were scared, that the reason you hadn’t looked at him as he pursued you through these halls was fear, but when he zoned in on your face, that warm smile was still there. it made his blood boil.
you walked into your room, closing the door behind you. billy closed the gap between him and your room within a few more strides, and for a moment, simply stood outside of it.
he was panting, out of breath from a one-sided chase. he had to wipe his chin of the drool that had settled there from the excitement of it all. anticipation swirled in his chest, and made him feel suffocated. it felt so good, but he’d never admit it, not even in a confessional.
his feelings only heightened when he reached out to your doorknob, pushing your door open with ease. you hadn’t locked it. if he was able to think straight, it would’ve been something of note, but there wasn’t enough room in his head for common sense.
his eyes locked onto where you sat on your bed, staring up at him expectantly. knowingly. you knew something he didn’t, he could feel it. he shut the door behind him, going over to you and crowding against your body, grabbing you by your shoulders. your head was at his stomach in height, and you looked up at him as he loomed over you. how dare you look so innocent? so sweet? he knew what you were, and yet you still pretended to be something pure.
“are you okay, billy?” you asked, your lips perfectly forming the letters in his name. it nearly knocked the wind out of him.
“d-don’t say that,” was all he could hiss out of a clenched jaw. your eyebrows lowered a bit, your gaze turning into something that sent shivers down his spine. it didn’t feel like lust, it felt like amusement. “if you- if you say my name a-again i’ll… i’ll…”
“you’ll what, billy?”
billy blinked, and suddenly his hands were around your throat, and you were pinned down to the bed. his thighs caged you in, his back arched over you; he had leaned down as far as he could without toppling over. you didn’t move. your hands rested beside his knees, your head tilted back into the bed, and you just let him squeeze your throat. your gasps and little whimpers sounded even better in person. he could feel himself getting hard from it all. he ached- he was yearning. he wanted- no, he needed you. he nearly humped against your stomach; the only thing holding him back being that he couldn’t stain these robes.
drool dripped down his chin, his mouth hanging open slightly to allow him to pant like a rabid dog. he swallowed hard, using his thumbs to tilt your head down so that he could stare properly into your eyes. he wanted to see the fear. he wanted to see how he could make you scared, how he was in control.
all he saw glints of amusement underneath a cloud of lust. you were being entertained. you were allowing him to do this. he wasn’t in control…
this was a trap.
billy’s eyes widened, and he pushed himself off of you and up to his feet. you sat up slow, eyelashes fluttering as you dragged your gaze over him. he was a mess. you knew he was a mess. he had fallen into your succubus tricks. the fae knew his name, and now he couldn’t escape.
he wiped the drool from his lips, straightened out his priestly collar, and smoothed out the wrinkles in the front of his top. he didn’t look at you. if he did, he’d just get pulled in again. he wasn’t prepared for this fight, not yet.
“do not say my name out there. i am micheal out there.” his voice had turned stern.
“and in here?” you tilted your head to the side a bit, smirking at him.
billy hesitated, looking up at you for just a moment. in those few seconds he saw the way you looked through him. he swore you could see his very soul. he couldn’t even answer the question, but did he really have to? you knew. you knew he wanted you to keep saying his name, you knew he craved for you to scream it as loud as you could, you knew he wanted to swallow those same screams so that he could keep them all to himself, you knew he wanted you-
billy pulled his gaze away, turning to the door and rushing out, back into the hallway. he tried to pull himself together as he walked through the church, barely thinking about where he was going. he’d have to pray again. he’d have to confess tomorrow, at least for some of this.
he’d have to call you again soon so he could listen to you toy with his name in privacy.
he’d have to have you.
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freyjas-musings · 2 months ago
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Hi! I sent in an ask a while ago on how I think Gwyn might be a descendant of Oleanna, and came up with the headcanon of Oleanna visiting Gwyn in her dreams like Elena did with Aelin!
To me, Gwyn and Azriel have religious imagery/symbolism. I know that you have a theory on Gwyn & Azriel being the reincarnations of Oleanna & Enyalius (which is also interesting to me), so I just wanted to share some things that I discovered after doing some research!
This post https://www.tumblr.com/mystical-blaise/663854476621479936/berdara-meaning stood out to me.
The name Gwyn mean fair, white, blessed, and holy. The name Gwyneth means happiness.
Gwynedd means white, fair, blessed, pure.
Apparently Gwyneth also refers to Virgin. Her full name can translate to bleeding virgin.
The name Gwenivere is derived from the Welsh words gwen and hwyfar, which mean “white or fair” and “ghost or phantom” respectively. The name therefore means “white ghost” or “white phantom”.
In Malay, Berdarah means bleeding, bloodied, bled, bloody. Berdara in Malay is also virgin.
Sangrava (Sangravah) means used to bleed in Portuguese.
@yazthebookish posted on her Instagram story how it’s interesting that Gwyn wanted to name her sword Silver Majesty and the sword Gwydion kind of ties in both and it could maybe be an easter egg. “Silver: it’s dark blade emits what was described as a holy, savior’s light and that also connects Gwyn’s holy status as a priestess and the light emits when singing. Majesty: it belonged to a High King whose name is also the Irish equivalent to Gwyn (= Fionn). Gwydion: in Celtic mythology is a trickster/magician from the Kingdom of Gwynedd, which the name Gwyneth is derived from.”
Gwynriel’s have come up with theories about Gwyn and Gwydion after ACOSF, and how she might wield the sword. I’ve also seen theories on how she might be the one to find Narben.
In Medieval Christian theology places seraphim in the highest choir of the angelic hierarchy. They are the caretakers of God's throne, continuously singing "holy, holy, holy".
In the Book of Isaiah (Isaiah 6:1-8) used the term to describe six-winged beings that fly around the Throne of God crying “holy, holy, holy”.
In the Bible in Luke 2:13-21 it says: “Suddenly a great army of heaven’s angels appeared with the angel, singing praises to God: ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace on earth to those with whom he is pleased!’”
I wonder, have some people ever stopped to think that maybe the reason why Gwyn glows when she’s singing is because it’s something holy and pure, not because she’s “evil”? Even if Gwyn does turn out to be a lightsinger, SJM will not make her a villain, and it would make her an equal to Azriel (she already is). It would be another parallel between her and Azriel, which they already have multiple parallels.
The name Azriel means God is my help.
In Islamic and Christian traditions, Azrael is the name of the angel of death, one of the four archangels; the angel of death who separates souls from their bodies. Apparently he proved to be the only angel brave enough to go down to Earth and face the hordes of Iblīs, the devil, in order to bring God the materials needed to make man. Fun fact: Azrael’s attributes are wings and a cloak. (Azriel wrapped Gwyn in his cloak when saving her.)
Ramiel means thunder of God. We know that Ramiel is important, it is Illyria’s sacred mountain, it is regarded as the holy mountain of the Night Court. Where the warriors are when the Blood Rite ends sorts them into one of the three echelons of warrior, name after their holy stars. One of the seven archangels listed in the Book of Enoch, Ramiel is considered to be the angel of hope, guiding faithful souls to heaven and watching over those who will be resurrected. Throughout the New Testament, Jesus is associated with mountains. Mountains are mentioned more than 500 times in the Bible. The Garden of Eden was believed to have been on a mountain. Mountains have a logical religious symbolism for Jewish and Christian cultures since they are “closer to God” who dwells in the heavens (as in the sky). As a result, God often reveals himself on a mountaintop in the text. In the Old Testament, the mountains of Sinai and Zion are most significant.
The name Oleanna means light. Didn’t Oleanna, a high priestess, create Gwydion and gave it its powers when she dipped it into the Cauldron?
In Greek mythology Enyalius is generally the son of Ares by Enyo. Enyalius is often seen as the God of soldiers and warriors from Ares cult.
All of this just seemed really interesting to me. SJM minored in religious studies, so it’s possible she is well aware of some of this or has done some research. There is a lot of religious symbolism and imagery when it comes to Gwyn. No one is “stealing” the religious aesthetic from E/riel’s. Gwyn and Azriel as characters themselves have religious imagery. Gwynriel as a ship has religious symbolism. It wouldn’t surprise me if SJM played into this and I really hope she does. The saint and the sinner. I’ve thought for a while now about making edits of Gwyn and Gwynriel that are religious themed, but I’m scared of E/riel’s saying that I’m stealing their aesthetic, since they’ve accused Gwynriel’s of stealing the light and dark aesthetic. But Gwynriel does actually have a light and dark aesthetic, and E/riel’s use the Hades & Persephone thing despite it being Feysand’s.
Hi Anon,
Everything you have written is interesting and I would love to take my time and explore every single point you made ...
Its all very interesting and I could see Oleanna and Gwyn having a connection similar Enalius and Az ....
Illyrians were made and the leathery wings indicate they were an experiments with creatures from the hel realm ....Now cut to Gwyn who was conceived by a priestess on the holy night of the great rite... it will almost be poetic if Az wields a weapon made from dark power and Gwyn ends up weilding a weapon made from holy power the warrior mates who are also Carynthians.
So Gwyn and Az have the whole holy unholy aesthetic going for them .... saint and the sinner .... carynthian warriors ... and yes Light and dark too.
Light and dark is such a common aesthetic.... it is also a Feysand aesthetic, Ruhn Lidia aesthetic ✨️... you cant gatekeep such a generic aesthetic.
Their book my friend will win hearts and be an absolute masterpiece .
I am very curious as to what Gwyns power is .... being Azriel's mate it would need to be something equally unique and powerful and yes I do believe her power will be something Holy ... she already has the invoking stone that she channels the mother's power from but even apart from that I believe her glow could be something holy ✨️
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futurepastme · 3 months ago
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A collection of known prophecies related to Emrys and the Once and Future King
I actually had fun doing this. Quick reminder that english is not my first language. Enjoy.
“(...) scrying, when our sister Winfred went to take her turn. I can still feel all the energy that filled the room when she took her place in front of the crystal, but what I'll remember most, what I won't ever forget, are the words that came out of her mouth that day. A shattered core wilt covereth the w’rld in shade, stealing us of our light; Blood shalt flote the streets, shalt taint our rivers, and soak up our forests; Screams art to feedeth the night, burning the souls of our kin; Fire shalt beest breathed f’r a lasteth time; Full halls wilt wend exsufflicate; And ev’rything yond once wast, shalt beest nay m’re.
–  From the notes of Alma, a high priestess apprentice.”
“(...) a trance, with his eyes going white and his voice deeper than the earth itself. From the ruins and the ashes of a desperate past, a god of light shall grace the men with his blessing. Dark will be his path in his duty towards the light of day; True shall be his nature in his search for his kin; Hope will grace the world once the immortal one meets his fate.
– Urbgen, son of Morrigan; about Merle the hermit.”
“ (...) and with the help of the god, the lightbringer shall mend what has been torn.
– Incomplete passage, unknown source.”
“Guided by his destiny; the King that was and will be shall rise for the first time. Bringing forth the grace of Albion; Freeing the desperate from their plight; Joining his half in their fight against the darkness; The dawn of the new day shall come forth with the guidance of his own blood; Until his need is most again.
– Iudris, Druid leader of the northeast Bexbour Woods clan.”
“(...) I also had a chance to speak with one of the leaders of the fae folk, a polite young maid named Niamh who was kind enough to share with me a little of the fae culture and traditions. Amongst her tellings were some apparently old prophecies that were never written down. And while I have every intention of respecting their traditions, any unwritten prophecy that is known only by word of mouth seems to me a reckless stance, as the memories of men -those who are human or not- tend to fade, and retellings of any old stories are never the same as the original.      It is with that knowledge that I decided to write down, if only for my personal use, one of said prophecies that Niamh shared with me. Like every word-of-mouth retelling, her speech had the structure of an old fable, instead of the traditional form of prophecies that are known for being an almost rhymed riddle.       She starts her tale with a man, a sorcerer, named the most powerful of his time and of every time that was and would be. Emrys, she called him. This Emrys would become the saviour of the magical folk, along with a different man whom she called The Once and Future King. They were to, together, unify the lands under one kingdom of Albion, and bring peace to all living things, born of magic or not, after a period of despair, ashes and blood.      Emrys and the Once and Future King are said to be two parts of a whole, with some believing that the goddess herself chose a brave and kind soul, amongst all souls that were ever forged in the plenitude of existence, and splitted it in two. In one of those halves, the one that should become Emrys, she put so much of her own magic that it is said that that half of the soul became a god itself, ready to bring the goddesses magic back to the barren world. On the other half, she created a leader, just, strong, courageous and owner of a heart so big as to be compared with the one of a mother for her children. He would guide his people with this heart and defend them with his life. That half of the soul would be The Once and Future King.      The two halves are said to never feel complete without the other, always seeking one another at every moment of their lives. And unless they truly let their souls become one, the golden age of Albion would never come forth, and their true destinies would never be completed in its fullest. (...)
– Excerpt from the lost journal of King Bruta, first King of Camelot”
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fortunatelyenchantingtaco · 3 months ago
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Tbf i wish we could see ffxvi in the age of myths. Ultima deep asleep, and gods not yet gods. I like the whole process of how gods actually become divine, and a big fan of humans doing it not through some kind prophecy, or a creator ascending them, or some grand destiny or fate, but through their own means
It would be real fun to see bow Barnabas rose from being a young genius swordsman to truly a man whose slash you can’t counter or block. Training so much, seeking stronger opponents, until his skills reach the heavens. Until his sword can slash the cruel world, the injustice, the demons, the evil
Imagine how Joshua, a sickly child in a cruel world, with a loving older brother and a vehement desire to live and also to help his brother, dies and comes back to life time and time again. A miracle, they say. But this is his spirit, will to live. Reborn through fire
Imagine Clive, his wild urge to protect, the fire that burned his fingers when he touched Joshua, and yet he never let go. Imagine Clive dropped in a heart of a volcano, burning alive, until magma became his skin, until lava poured into his chest and made him more fire than human. All ragged, sharp edges, unsuited for protection, but doing his best anyway. Shaped into the sharpest weapon to survive
Imagine Jill, the last survivor of an expedition up north. All alone, between the snow and ice, giving up on seeking warmth. Embracing the cold, going further and further until suddenly she doesn’t squint against the biting wind. Until ice starts flowing in her veins and she leaves behind her warm wool and thick scarves, until cold fills her lungs
Can you see Benedicta, climbing the highests of cliffs because there is nothing more intoxicating than looking at the world from the top? Than breathing in the highly energised air in the clouds? And someday she can’t bear it anymore, can’t keep being bound to earth, where everyone puts their hands on her trying to tie her down, and then she flies
Or Kupka, whose people found their place beneath the earth? Living there, cultivating food, unearthing preacious stones? What if he rock was always more stable than humans to him? More reliable, constant, nothing like the wind he tries to grasp between his hands and fails miserably every time? What if the stone heard him and accepted him as his heart?
Dion, the brave Dion, son of the skyes, dragoon, the dragon slayer. Bathed in their blood without knowing its properties? Their doom but also their strongest? They give their blessing when they lose, they value only strenght, only purity of soul. He collects swords, protects what he holds dear and someday scales appear on his skin. Black, silver, pale blue, sparkling, until someday he ascends as the king of dragons
And Cid, Cid. The sword, the shield, the arbiter, the researcher. There are questions he can’t get answers to, can’t save his people, doesnt have enough power for his machines to mke them work. Lightning doesn’t hit the same spot twice, they say, but he begs to differ. He will make it hit as much as he needs, in their land of rain and storm, it should amount to something. No matter how much it hits him with it. And the more it does, the more Cid himself sparks. It gets easier, nature bending to his will. He only asks what he’s due, after all
Can you see the water cradling an infant? If doesn’t want to kill, but people are stupid, they can’t resist the tide. But this small child, precious existense, born in the water and raised by it, doesn’t drown. He floats steadily, wailing, a temperament as foul as the ocean itself
An age of myth, the time of legends, the birth of gods, when elements ran so wild they found home inside people
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of-tatooine · 4 months ago
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DULCE PERICULUM | CHAPTER III - MOONLIGHT
through me among the people lost for aye.
(John Wick x Reader, Santino d'Antonio x Reader)
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The city of angels.
It was a night of profound clarity through the dim lights. Sparkling moonlight adorned pavement older than time, millions of brave and lost souls’ footsteps embedded in every crevice of the cobblestones.
Sampietrini, they were called. The traditional cobblestone on every major road of the ancient city, still surviving to the modern days. Battered, bruised, hit, yet still standing intact. Both a blessing and a curse to walk on.
Sampietrini.
Little Saint Peters. It was fitting that the patron saint of Rome protected over the sacred center of the ancient world, watching over it’s citizens as the guardian angel, shielding from harm's way almost. In every crevice, corner and side of the cramped up cacophony of buildings, alleyways that tied into their intricate maze for those who knew how to navigate it. Those who longed to get lost in it, each step taking into another unknown, yet another thrill. Each step taken further away from the safety of the large squares, wide open spaces bustling with people. Would the next step lead to a new danger to overcome, almost taken as a willing challenge, or would it open to the vast corridor of sunlight waiting at the other end?
The unknown.
Why did you long for the unknown? Why did each melodic thud of your heels against the pavement take you one step closer to danger, it seemed?
Who was your patron saint for the night, watching over your shoulder with every move you made?
It had been a couple of short hours from the time your private jet landed the place you called home, the sleek black car disappearing into the night like a shark, after escorting you to city center. The slightly cold nighttime breeze grazed your hair as it flowed freely, cobblestone smoothly transitioning into marble steps, then into the soft red carpet leading up to the giant double doors.
It was impossible to miss Il Continentale, at least for the ones who knew how and where to look. Specks of decorative light adorned the exterior, guards in full uniform at the entrance, with their hands holding the massive gates open for you to pass. The grandeur would only seem to continually increase with each taken step, an accustomed luxury of decadent chandeliers reflecting rays of light on green and coral marble columns, red velvet couches a mere step against sheer height of Renaissance ceilings within the expansive lobby. The countless of times you found yourself in the safe haven, your eyes almost always would divert to the worn yet lively murals adorning the ceilings - little angels, demons and saints alike, a cacophony of depictions let it be an eternal sins or act of good.
What caught your wandering eyes were the small halos etched on the figures of saints, denoting all that was holy they stood for, evoking the eternal respect of mere bystanders.
Devoid of sin.
Unlike you, and the people who walked this ground before, after or with you.
To your dismay, the golden shimmers of halos painted over the saints seemed to dim with each passing visit.
“Buona sera, signora,” came the friendly voice of the reception peering behind the grand marble counter with a casual backdrop of Botticelli spanning the entirety of the wall. Thoughts quickly shooed out of your mind with trained ease and a kind nod thrown his way, you watched your escorts quietly slip to the shadows of the back rooms as they carried your belongings through the establishment’s inner maze of corners, corridors and doors without being seen - secrecy being a top priority at a luxury assassin’s lair.
After all, there was no telling what horrors or pleasure went through the very four walls of each room of the hotel. What deals were done, dirty or nice, secrets spilled or treasures lost. Just like many others before you, your heart joined the slowly dissipating anxiety within your body of what was to come your way.
Many times you had walked in here, just like this. The sheer moonlight illuminating the ornate architecture, the classical crevices and elegant panels in lazy hazes. Heels digging against the marble, men and women in classical attire roaming about, often clutching a drink from the bar you tended to frequent more than you would have liked to admit. Many a nights you put your head on the plush pillows, sleep a welcome luxury at moments, embracing the warmth of it.
However, some tight knot deep, deep within your stomach kept reminding you of just how different this night would render the future.
It sent an even more unwelcome shiver down your spine.
Your eyes then found the man behind the counter once again. He did not have to ask you for your business here, nor for how many nights you would require service. He certainly did not need to remind you of the rules of the Continentale. No, he knew better than that as the receptionist’s fingers aptly swung over the keyboard in front of him, reaching for the phone next as he placed it over his ear. In the waiting moments that followed, your eyes wandered around the mostly empty lobby, more curious than hopeful to see if you would spot any familiar faces in the approaching dawn of the morning.
Besides the one you came here for.
“Ti sta aspettando,” came the long-awaited announcement from the receptionist, the respectful smile lingering at the corner of his lips as he carefully stepped aside to guide you towards the double elevators with an outstretched hand.
He was waiting for you.
“Grazie,” you would offer the man, a small yet audible chime signaled the bronze-colored elevator doors opening, taking casual steps inside. Watching the floor signs beam one by one as the chime signaling the penthouse finally went off, you let go of a breath that you did not realize you were holding.
Bronze doors did not leave any room for preparation as they opened to lead into a dark marble corridor, grand glass doors opening into the vast balcony with the eternally beautiful city lights twinkling in the distance as your steps took you closer to the center of the attention.
And, lo and behold, there stood your saint, pinstripe-covered arms stretched leisurely over the marble railings as he gazed over his kingdom. Candle light reflected off of the navy tweed on his broad back, sending a light sparkle on the crystal glass of the finest Chianti wrapped in his fingers.
Even with his back turned to you, a voice in you swore his green eyes twinkled  as he gazed at each monument, dimly lit window or reflection under the street lights.
A whole city rendered his playground, for his empire of sin to run foster. Each and every corner riddled with his influence, his men, his rules to be followed. An undeniable force running on unspoken rules, whispered by each passerby and accomplice included.
A cause for which you had been a loyal soldier, sworn for forever and always.
He had to break you first to own you, after all.
“It’s done.”
Your voice soft, betraying your previous anxiety during the journey back home. Mind transitioning into a state of eerie calmness, of habitual ease, the moment Santino turned around to meet your eyes. The eclairs of night danced in his dark curls, illuminating his taut skin. Piercing green found yours, a gentle grin on his lips right before the glass was raised up for another sip, perhaps in the light of the good news that were to follow. Manicured nails reached into your pocket for the long-awaited marker, placing it on the sleek black marble table extending through the length of the balcony.
The gleaming light off of the bronze marker, the object of his attention, hit Santino’s face, sending a look of partial relief upon the sight.
A content hum escaped his lips. “Bene,” his low voice uttered in a mere whisper, a soft beckoning of his fingers to call you closer to his position near the marble railing.
Your legs took you to your place right next to him, your hands finding the cool stone as you perched over gently. Standing next to him came so naturally. It was all you knew, for all these years. It was where you belonged.
Right next to him, on his right side. His queen, overlooking the kingdom she helped rule.
As your weary eyes took sight of the beauty in front of you that you could never get tired of, his hand found yours. Both creatures of habit, yet it never ceased to sent a shiver down your spine.
No one wanted to mess with Santino d’Antonio, and no one wanted to be indebted to him. That you knew. From the back of your mind, as you held onto Santino’s calloused hand, you could not help but wonder if a certain dark-haired assassin would repay his debt.
From then on, you could only hope he would not pay the favor back with his life.
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orangeheliophile · 6 days ago
Text
Smile...
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Izuku Midoriya had the beauty of an angel.
The way his forest curls flowed in the summer wind, how his freckles looked like tiny stars on his skin.
The way the scars on his body hold a story with a certain amount of emotion; a core memory in each one. His voice: oh, so soothing with the tone of melody that calms one in distress.
His laugh, a joyous chorus that never failed to make your heart sing. And those emerald eyes of his, so filled with hope and kindness that never fails to shine in even the darkest moments.
But your favorite thing about him? His smile. That sunshine smile of his that made your heart race every time you had the blessing to see it. A smile of the sun with the soul of a star; that's what you thought when you first met him.
If he was a star, then he would be your favorite.
Everything about him was perfect in your eyes, as if the greenette was a work of art you wanted to admire forever. He was kind, patient, brave, loyal, and everything that would make him a 'green flag'.
Now, as the both of you are third years, Izuku had grown muscle, gained more strength, and abilities with his quirk. And thank the heavens that the embers of One For All were still intact with his body.
But you never cared if he was quirkless or not. You saw the man underneath. The hero he always was. He was way more than just a hero. He was Izuku Midoriya. He was human, with the soul of a saint.
But he wasn't yours. You could be as physically closest to him, yet you couldn't reach to be in the place of his heart you yearned to be in.
Yet he continued to shine under the rays of soft sunlight, long grass flowing around him as he looked up at the sky- towards the future. You want to be in his future, you think. The way your heart thumps and cracks every time you see him, knowing that he probably would never see you in the same light.
So all you could do was daydream. Daydream of the moment that would only come in another lifetime, but you never mind waiting. You would wait for him for an eternity if it meant you could spend a single moment with him where he felt the same way you do.
Then again, only in a dream. Yet he always visited your dreams, constantly watching over you and protecting anything that would think to harm you.
It was always him being in a field in the countryside, vibrant flowers around him, and a creek nearby. There were always puffy clouds and birds singing, with him being on the top of a grassy hill with his hero uniform. And he would always turn around to smile at you, reaching his hand out for you to take.
Yet you never could, because you would always wake up again to realize that you were alone. Completely alone.
Everything that happened was just a memory now. You were old and gray, and most of your friends from Class 1-A had died. Even Izuku.
Of course, you cried when he passed away, as you never married or had any kids. Because you wanted to wait for him. But he married Ochaco, and they had a lovely family of their own. You were happy for them. And almost nobody noticed how you cried on the inside with a forced smile on your lips.
Yet the world moved on, your memories with your classmates fading into the past as it turned into nothing. Your story forgotten.
Yet there was one man who never forgot you- Katsuki Bakugou. He watched from the sidelines, carmine eyes dilated whenever you came in his sight. Unknown to you, his heart was already yours. He never had a family either, staying the number one worldwide hero for about 45 years.
Katsuki wasn't perfect, his hair was blonde and untamable and he was a hothead. His eyes were carmine and fierce and he had issues. Yet he loved you. Even if you didn't love him back.
He retired after his best friend, Kirishima passed away from a heart failure. And you were the first to comfort him, because everyone else was either sick, or dead. Yet the world moved on.
But you... you grew tired of being left behind and alone. The melancholy becoming too much to handle, so you let Katsuki in. And the both of you always hung out together and stayed close to each other; the both of you needing comfort after every memory of the past.
You were old and a bit wrinkly, Katsuki loved you nonetheless. Katsuki couldn't fight the same way as he used to, you found other activities to do. And soon enough, you both moved in together.
You bought a lovely little home in between the city and the countryside, and you grew a beautiful garden and adopted a few animals along the way. The countryside reminded you of Izuku, a stabbing pain in your heart that you tried to swallow.
Katsuki understood your pain, and you understood his. So you both held each other as close as possible, wishing that your life would end so that in the next one, maybe you wouldn't focus on someone so perfect, but who didn't love you. You would rather love someone back and love their flaws along the way. Because at least that kind of love would be fulfilled.
But that never stopped you from enjoying the moments you did have with Katsuki, because he wasn't the one who made you cry in the end...
... he was the one that made you smile.
Izuku's smile may have been your favorite, but in the process of loving him, he made you lose yours. Katsuki didn't do that. In the last 20 years of your life, at the ripe age of 85, Katsuki Bakugou was the man who made you happy.
And you couldn't ask for anything more.
Because in the end, it was Katsuki's smile that made you smile.
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This was my first angst, how did I do?
I want to write more for Izuku! I also want to write more for this scenario, too!
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