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onigiriico · 1 year

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Amane audio drama (t2) - English TL

[ links: Spotify | Youtube ]

So much religion talk in this one. So much. I typed so much stuff into DeepL my JP keyboard app crashed at some point, but! it is done at last! 🎉 As always, if you've got any questions or find a mistranslated line, you can find me on Twitter or send me an ask (and in case you've got some money to spare & feel like supporting me extra, you can also find me over on Ko-fi)! But, without further ado:

⬇️ translation under the cut ⬇️

(Es enters)

E: Prisoner no.8, Amane. It’s time for your interrogation. Let’s talk for the first time in a while.

A: Warden.

E: What is it, Prisoner?

A: We've been disappointed by you.

E: Hah?

A: Even though we could sense the possibility of the new world we desire here in Milgram… and in you.

E: I don’t care how much you look down on me. I told you that won’t work.

A: Furthermore, you may say incomprehensible things, such as us “not being forgiven”...

E: Oi.

A: But we are generous. For now, let us make some time for a conversation with you. After all, our history is one that is built on dialogue.

E: Oi. Listen to what I’m saying.

A: What is it?

E: Amane. Don’t think you’ll be able to lead the conversation with that total change in attitude. Is it the result of the judgment that you’ve ended up like this?

A: “Like this”?

E: The dazed look in your eyes. The atmosphere around you. The way you speak. In comparison to the first trial, it’s like you’re a different person.

A: Hm.

E: Everyone who was unforgiven told me they heard voices judging their sins. They’re experiencing a lot of emotional stress as a result. Were your changes influenced by that as well?

A: Hah? Those stupid voices, huh? Yeah. I have heard them as well. However, such things do not pose a major problem.

E: What?

A: We have firm teachings. We have a clear and noble faith. No matter what kinds of things other people might say, these things cannot be shaken.

E: Faith… That would be referring to the religion you believe in, right?

A: Yes. It seems like the power Milgram holds is real. Did you have a look as well? At our faith.

E: Yeah. Though it was a depiction of a fairly small group of people… I’ve judged that your murder was the result of religion – of faith.

A: It wasn’t murder. It was merely a punishment in line with our doctrine.

E: So it’s not a sin, you mean?

A: Is faith a sin?

E: Faith itself is free. I’m not religious myself, but I understand that some people might be saved by it.

A: Hm. Is that so? Are the prisoners who weren’t forgiven feeling lost right now? Maybe they need our faith as well.

E: I’d rather you spare me the missionary work inside the prison.

A: Faith is free. It exists for people who are feeling lost.

E: … We’ve digressed. So – just what are you right now? You’ve been saying “we” this whole time. Does that mean you are not Amane Momose right now?

A: Right now, I am both Amane Momose and I am not. I am speaking on behalf of our faith. I am speaking as “we”, who believe that dialogue and warnings are in order since you made the misjudgment to not forgive us.

E: So you’re saying I’m talking to the very concept of your faith right now?

A: We don’t mind you thinking of it that way.

E: Huh.

A: Well then. Let us warn you once again. Warden. You judged that Milgram couldn’t forgive us, correct?

E: Yeah, that’s right.

A: As stated previously, our actions were in line with our doctrine, and thus cannot count as sins. Thus, Milgram is in the wrong.

E: You’ve killed a person.

A: In line with our doctrine.

E: You understand that you’ve broken the law, right?

A: We’ve talked about this before. There are things more important than the law. That would be our teachings.

E: I won’t acknowledge you turning such selfish rules into a standard of judgment. I won’t allow it. End of story.

A: …

E: Both religion and faith are free. However, a doctrine can’t become a universal standard of judgment.

A: You fool. Isn’t Milgram trying to enforce a new standard of judgment precisely because laws cannot guide this world onto the right path? Are you still being weighed down by the law?

E: As someone who’s just the warden, it’s not exactly my ambition to know about Milgram’s philosophy. It’s not because it’s against the law – but as Milgram, your murder can’t be forgiven. I judged it that way. That’s all.

A: …

E: Milgram… denies your doctrine.

A: If you do not adjust your way of thinking… we, too, will never be able to forgive you.

E: Heh.

A: What’s so funny?

E: What do you mean, “we”? You’re making me laugh. What you’re doing is just plain murder – no matter whether we’re talking in general or according to religion. It’s murder.

A: …!

E: Understand that. Amane Momose. It’s not “you” (plural) who killed someone – it’s you (singular). Don’t look away from your own actions by playing pretend!

A: … Ha…haha…! - You’ve insulted us… [You’ve insulted] God…!

E: So what?

A: This is unforgivable! I won’t forgive you! (screams)

(Amane tries to strike Es, but gets stopped by the barrier)

E: I’m telling you it’s impossible for prisoners to attack the warden.

A: I won’t forgive you…! I won’t forgive you!

E: Did you get those scissors from the storage room? Were you never taught that you’re not supposed to use those on people?

A: In light of our doctrine, your insult to us is more than enough to warrant a punishment! I won’t forgive you! I won’t forgive you!

(she tries and fails to attack them again)

E: Well… it’s in vain, so you might as well just listen to me like this.

A: I won’t forgive you! I won’t forgive you!

E: Prisoners can’t attack the warden. This is one of Milgram’s core rules, though a certain guy with multiple personalities slipped past it.

A: I won’t forgive you! I won’t forgive you!

E: Which means that Milgram doesn’t decide who the prisoners are based on their body, but based on their mind. If the mind is a different one, the rule doesn’t apply. It bothers me that it has a loophole, but…

A: I’ll kill you…! I’ll kill you!!

E: Thanks to this defective rule, we’ve now confirmed this: the you holding those scissors right now isn’t a god or a concept. It’s Amane Momose herself.

A: … I’ll…!

E: So, what you’re doing right now really is just a game of pretend. This is stupid.

A: …

E: This is the head-on battle with Milgram that you wanted.

A: Shut up…!

E: What’s wrong? Have you ended up wanting to be treated like a child after all?

A: Shut up!!

E: In fact, if you ask me, the fact that you are a child has a lot to do with this matter.

A: …!

E: No matter what you do, no matter how grown-up you behave – you’re a child. That’s an unchangeable truth.

A: You’re a child, too!

E: Wrong. I’m fifteen, so I’m an adult in Puerto Rico and Haiti. You’re twelve, so you’re a child no matter the country.

A: …!!

E: Hehe. You look angry.

A: I don’t.

E: You do.

A: I don’t!

E: Well, either way is fine. In the end, there’s two main reasons as to why children get reduced sentences under the law – the possibility of reformation and the influence of the environment, I believe.

A: …

E: In this case, it’s mainly the latter. I’ve said this before – during childhood, the things that the parents teach a child have a great impact on them, and the environment one grows up in has immense influence as well. A child who is born into a very religious environment will grow up believing that those are the rules of the world.

A: What are you trying to say?

E: In other words, they will turn their faith into their entire life – feeling as if their doctrine is the whole world.

A: …

E: Previously, you objected to being considered [mentally] underdeveloped based on your age. I suppose you were right about that. Your self really is fully developed. However, that self is one that was built in a particular environment, isolated from society.

A: …

E: That’s exactly why… We have also speculated whether this really was your crime, or that of your parents – of your surroundings.

A: …!

E: But as I said before, there’s different ways these components could have worked together—

A: “We”? What’s “we”? Are you not just “I”?

E: … I…?

A: Aren’t we the same? Me and Warden-san. You know, I’m aware that I’m out of the ordinary. That my environment was peculiar, and that everyone [else] is normal.

E: Amane…

A: In fact, there have been people who said that to me. I’ve been told things like, “You’re being deceived.” “You can still make it right now.” “You’re crazy.”

E: …

A: You are treating me as a child after all. Because I’m a child, you believe that I must have been brainwashed. It’s not like that. I, too— children, too, understand everything! Please don’t just decide that people must be unhappy.

E: …

A: I’m happy that I was born to my parents! It was a bit difficult, and it could feel restrictive sometimes, but I’m really happy that I could grow up on such beautiful teachings! I want to live this way!

E: Is that so…

A: You call that brainwashing, don’t you? From my perspective, you also generally oppose religion based on your personal values. Why can that be blindly trusted just because you’re more people?

E: I got what you’re trying to say.

A: It’s only natural that we, who weren’t acknowledged as a society just because we’re fewer in numbers, would view the possibility of a new world through Milgram as a dream.

E: Yeah, I’ve got it! Still, I won’t recognize your doctrine. By my standards, a doctrine that approves murder cannot be forgiven!

A: Yes. I’ve understood that.

E: Milgram is a three-trial system, though. I’ll be watching and listening to the footage from your mind for now, going into deeper depths this time… and if I feel something there, I plan on firmly accepting that.

A: Facing me head-on, is that right?

E: Yeah. That’s it.

A: If you end up deciding not to forgive me – not to forgive us –, then I will not forgive you, either.

E: Yeah.

A: Ah… no, that’s wrong. I will not forgive you (plural).

E: Wha—

(machinery whirrs, bell rings)

A: “Don’t look away from your own actions by playing pretend” – that’s my line. Warden-san, it’s not just you; it’s all of you. You all said you wouldn’t forgive us. We’re meeting each other on eye level. You all won’t be allowed to not get your hands dirty.

E: … What are you saying…?

A: What could it be? Warden-san, you were the one who said “we”, so…

E: (falls to their knees) … My head… Huh…?

A: Oh? Do you have a headache? Are you alright, Warden-san?

E: …

A: Do get back up by yourself, alright? That’s a trial given to you by God.

E: (heavy breathing)

A: Both pain and illness are trials. According to our teachings, those who run from them are the worst evil there is. That’s one of the four great principles. No matter who you are, that cannot be forgiven.

E: What are you…?

A: Oh – speaking of which, there is one among the prisoners right now. An evil existence that’s trying to steal people’s trials away from them.

E: …!

A: Shidou Kirisaki… His actions violate our rules. I have given him a warning. If he continues, I suppose it will be inevitable for me to intervene.

E: …!

A: Or… could it already be too late?

E: Shut up!! (hits her) … You’re getting ahead of yourself…!

A: Using one-sided violence… that’s unfair of you.

E: Shut your mouth…! I am the one casting the judgements here!

A: Hehehe. And how does that set you apart from us?

E: … I told you to shut up… Listen to what I’m telling you.

A: Hehe… This is nice. If the world you’re striving for is admirable in my eyes… That is to say…

E: Prisoner no.8, Amane… Sing your sins…!

#translation #fan translation #milgram #milgram music videos #amane momose #milgram amane #milgram es #y-yippee! (lays down face first on the floor)#how are we feeling folks #(i swear i'm not gonna plug my kofi every time but i was feeling a little silly)#(also shoutout to everyone who was being supportive on my uni puratory post. ue. bless y'all fr)

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wondermilka · 1 year

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Shattered Love

Pairing: Kaeya x GenderNuetral! Reader

Synopsis : You and Kaeya has always been inlove. But was that still the case when he met a particular girl in the tavern?

TW : Angst, no comfort, kaeya has fallen out of love, breakups

You and Kaeya were a happy couple, always enjoying each other's company. You had been dating for quite some time and were deeply in love. Your lover lived up to his reputation for his charismatic personality.

Kaeya had a habit of frequenting a tavern where he would have a few drinks and unwind after a long day. You trusted him completely and had no reason to doubt his faithfulness.

One day, Kaeya met a girl in the tavern. They instantly clicked and found themselves deep in conversation. They laughed, shared stories, and felt a connection like never before. Little did you know, this encounter would take a turn for your relationship.

The next day, you happened to bump into Diluc, the owner of the tavern, while going around doing errands. You struck up a conversation, and somehow the topic of Kaeya and the girl he had met came up.

One night, Kaeya stumbled home late, clearly drunk. As always, you were there to help him up and take him to your shared bedroom. A mysterious lipstick mark on his clothes was not left unnoticed by you. But you know better than to immediately jumping to conclusions. You trusted him.

It was then that Diluc revealed the truth to you about Kaeya's encounter and the connection he had formed with the other girl.

You refused to believe, but you heard it loud and clear from Diluc and you could no longer fool yourself into thinking that he wouldn't do such a thing.

Your heart sank. The truth hit you like a ton of bricks. You had trusted Kaeya, but now your faith had been shattered, the cracks in your relationship has been revealed.

Heartbroken and filled with a mix of emotions, you confronted Kaeya. You had a painful and tearful breakup. There was no closure or comfort for either of you. The trust you had built was broken, and you both had to find a way to heal and move on separately.

The betrayal cut deep, and you couldn't bear to be in a relationship with someone who had strayed.

Kaeya knew what he did was wrong. But he was swayed by the pleasure and entertainment. He could not bear to look at your face with tears strumming down. You both knew it was for the best.

Your relationship came to a painful end as you and Kaeya went your separate ways, forever haunted by the memories of what could have been, leaving you both with scars that would take time to heal.

#angst #genshin #genshin angst #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya angst #kaeya x reader angst #milkawrites

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dreamgirlvibes · 15 hours

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We live in a culture where we are told we can go find better and do better- thus isolating ourselves and repeating this cycle over and over after small disagreements and ego-driven battles. Only to find ourselves becoming a capsule of emotions, memories and soul ties left with nothing but a false hope. Yes, there are instances where you SHOULD remove yourself and disconnect from people and things that are truly detrimental to your life and well being. But every single time someone fails or doesn’t meet such high standards, we’d rather let go instead of giving grace. We would rather remove what could have been instead of thinking of our own triggered responses and actions. We end up selfishly choosing ourselves instead and left with only ourselves. Traumatized by what is called love but we never truly find it. Taught by instagram memes and twitter posts and led by their manifestations. Guided by the followers of God and not Himself. Walking around the earth with a pride so high that couldn’t be reached but expecting for people to climb our walls. Love used to last back then because people knew what it was to TRY. We hallmark this ‘’90’s’’ r&b era because deep down inside we all want to find a love that stays, a love that never quits, that is vulnerable and faithful. It’s not about the boy groups ‘’begging and pleading’’ for their women. It’s not about the r&b divas expressing their hearts outs and uplifting their men. It’s not even about a nostalgic feeling. It’s about the fact that that we all had examples and situations that made us BELIEVE that the kinda love we deserve is WORTH IT. Worth crying for, worth chasing, worth staying, worth giving and trying. We are now blind to that type of love. We all have our guns in our pockets and weapons ready to aim at any kind of instance that doesn’t deem to be perfect. We have traded healthy love for toxicity and eventually made toxicity a normal thing- so normal we are TERRIFIED to try. Scared to stay. Horrified to look so crazy, so dumb, to be open, to cry, to do, to feel that we’re slowly becoming numb to the idea of it. Some praise singleness as a form of healthiness to the point of normalcy. And not saying that being single is not normal, but it’s the projection we forget about. People’s projections have become our new will and we all then cycle it back and pass It along. Causing all of us to eventually feel like we can do so much better, be so much better, when in reality we don’t even realize that the real work is working on ourselves. Nothing changes if nobody changes. We point the finger at each other when the target should be our own lives. If only you and that person could call it truths and instead instantly erasing the memories and history you’ve built off a disagreement, y’all can find a solution- first by removing the ego and letting vulnerability take its place. However, in this generation, that almost seems like a scam. We have power words we use for people who make simple mistakes- calling their choices a disease and spreading awareness to what could have easily been an apology. We would rather categorize people by names then to understand their reasons. We would rather perceive someone for what we choose to believe instead of allowing that person to find solace in us. Because in this generation- love is merely a concept. It is just a partnership until the contract is broken and when it breaks, we can go find another partner than can fulfill our selfish needs. It is prideful, it is not kind, it envies, dishonors others, self seeking, easily angered, never trusts, delights in seeing evil after departure and eventually fails. EVERYTHING opposite of what the Bible describes to BE LOVE. So do not think it rare that we have an enemy who is seeking to remove this altogether. To keep us soaked up in this concept until we no loner have a fighting chance. To keep us ‘’cutting each other off’’ and ‘’blocking’’ each other altogether because we feel like there is SO MUCH better when in reality the better needs to be YOU. You are the change that the world needs.

If everyone looked at themselves before trying to find this love in everyone else- we will all be facing ourseves and getting hit with the fact that when you finally turn around- you will THEN truly see each other. We will then finally see LOVE for what it is.

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charliedawn · 5 months

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Tiberias x Reader

Part 2

A lot of people have been asking for part 2 so…Here you go. Hope you’ll like it.

You smiled on your way to the market place. It was the first day outside of the castle since you were brought forth before the king and you had missed the busy streets of Jerusalem. You took a long inhale and smiled to yourself at the familiar smell of almond pastries and pipe smoke. You belonged. It was your home.

And then, another smell mixed with the others...one of iron and sweet musk. It commanded your senses and lead you forward towards its source. When your eyes fluttered open, you smiled. Here he was.

The champion of Jerusalem.

The kind one.

Your knight in shining armour.

...Tiberias.

His unwavering gaze fixed on you, but no hostility in his eyes full of unspoken wisdom built on years of service...and great sadness. His eyes spoke of years of suffering, serving a cause he didn't believe in, but following his heart into battle. Oh...A knight at birth. A hero born in the womb. One of the true ones.

Your bare feet almost danced on the rough stones when you made your way to him and even though he didn't speak, his eyes spoke for him. You could recognize a begging soul.

"...You once told me you didn't need a healer, my friend. I helped your king. As you wished. Will you let me help you now, kind one ?", you asked with a kind smile on your face. Your fingertips brushed against his cheek and your face was just a mere inches from his. He refused to speak, but what a pity...He had words the world needed to hear. His eyes spoke loud enough however. They were begging you so sweetly to free him. He opened his mouth, but another cut him.

"Almaealij Aleazim ?"

You snapped your head towards the person who had just called you and your eyes widened as you found an old woman before you with a small snake in her hands. You tilted your head quizzically at her as she handed you the animal with care and asked with tears in her eyes.

"Please...This snake was the last gift of my husband. He is dying and...I want him to stay with me."

You looked down at the snake in your hands and you rubbed its little head. But, it was too late. You could feel that it was too late. You didn't want to tell her, but your tears spoke for themselves. The old woman could feel your sorrow and before you even said anything, she broke into tears. You looked around and saw a small crowd forming around you and frowned before shielding the poor woman's face from the crowd. Tears were personal. No one had the right to see them unless they were invited to.

"I am sorry. A snake is a beautiful creature. It shows your husband loved you very much...", you whispered and the old woman nodded before wiping her tears and smiling up at you. You didn't see resentment in her gaze, but acceptance.

"...I know. That snake was the only thing I had left from him. And it was always so faithful to me.", she murmured while gently stroking its silver head and you could feel her pain through her broken voice. You kissed her cheek and asked her if she wanted you to relieve the pain. She didn't know what you meant by it, not until you opened your mouth and black ashes started billowing out of her before being swallowed by you. Some people came to you to relieve them of their physical pain, but some had much deeper scars, woes that needed to be forgotten before festering and becoming destructive calamities.

Your gift didn't only work on diseases, but pain. You relieved the innocent of their pain and it was the reason why some thought of you as a drug. They had once locked you away for this power out of cupidity. But the old woman deserved to be relieved of her pain—if only for a little while. She shivered in your grasp, but didn't resist. You could feel Tiberias' eyes on you, but didn't pay it any mind.

The old woman smiled and a single tear rolled down her face as she squeezed your hands.

"Thank you...", she whispered and you smiled back. She then dropped your hands and proceeded to walk away.

The pain would come back. It always did. But, you had at least given her a moment of respite. You didn't notice when the crowd started to surround you with their hands raised towards the sky. They all wanted to be blessed. And if you could, you would take away all of their pain. But, unfortunately...You were exhausted and knew that if you were to try to heal one more unfortunate soul...Yours would be lost.

You staggered backwards and thought you would pass out on the floor, but your back hit a strong and sturdy chest. You looked back to find Tiberias, holding you up and his gentle eyes met yours. And in a hazy moment of delusion, your brain made you utter desperate words to the old soldier of your heart.

"...Don't leave me." You pleaded and Tiberias' eyes softened significantly. He gently pulled you closer and stroked the back of your hand soothingly.

"...Believe me, princess. Nothing could possibly tear me away from you. I will be there until you—and only you—decide that my services are no longer required."

You smiled and couldn't help but laugh before daring taking his hand and kissing the back of it—forgetting all about the public around you. They all suddenly fell silent and if you had been in your normal state of mind, you would have realized what you had just done...But, all you could was smile in bliss as Tiberias' fingers trembled in your hands. To think the man would be so affected by such an innocent gesture...

You fell unconscious in his arms.

He held you closer and his eyes then gave a circular glace at the gathered crowd. But, they didn't seem to mind the gesture and, even worse...some cheered.

"CONGRATULATIONS TO ALMA AND THE KIND ONE !", they chanted and knelt at your feet. Tiberias sighed before shaking his head. Of course they would misunderstand...The girl was just too naive and he was too old to waste his time with arguing. However, you were promised to the king. And he wouldn't let it be heard that you were unfaithful.

"QUIET DOWN ! THIS WOMAN IS NOT MINE ! SHE BELONGS TO THE KING !"

The crowd suddenly fell silent, but one man stepped forward with a frown on his face as he saw the way you were holding onto him. You seemed so peaceful in his arms, and yet...

"Almaealij Aleazim doesn't belong to anyone."

The people around the both of you raised to their feet and started muttering between themselves. Tiberias' eyes widened as he realized the mistake he had just committed.

"Of course not. Forgive my words. I only meant...", he tried to correct himself—but the man shook his head and smiled.

"We know what you meant, kind one. Your king has made sure to keep our Alma to himself forever by asking for her hand. But, Alma hasn’t given him her answer yet, has she ?"

Tiberias’ jaw twitched. The fool didn’t know what his impertinence would lead to. But, he decided to change subjects. before the people of Jerusalem took his words to heart.

"....Alma ?", he asked with a curious tilt of his head and the young man looked at you significantly.

"Her name. Alma. Our healer." The man replied.

The way the young man's 'our' sounded almost possessive didn't go unnoticed by the old soldier who narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him.

"For a man who pretends that this woman doesn't belong to anyone...You seem very keen on what side she belongs in."

The young man's expression darkened and his smile felt fake as he answered.

"Because she belongs to her people. Not to the white devils."

Tiberias narrowed his eyes at his very treacherous smile, the smile that hid the truth. His jaw twitched again as he held you closer to his chest.

"I won't allow her to get hurt. Not anymore...", he answered with certainty—but the man didn't seem convinced. He took a step forward, but Tiberias didn't even flinch as the stranger leaned forward and his smile became malicious.

"Are you sure about that, kind one ? Do you really think your own kind will remain gentle when they see where your true loyalty lies ?"

Tiberias took a step back at the man's accusations and suddenly, he felt surrounded. It was suffocating. He gazed down at the girl in his arms and held her closer.

…His true loyalty ?

He scoffed and took a circular glance at the people before thundering, his voice alone commanding respect.

"Your Alma shall be returned to you soon enough. My king is a just one ! And the girl will not be harmed. Not as long as the truce between our two people shall stand !"

The young man—who seemed to be the leader—scoffed before taking a strand of your hair in his hand.

"And how long will this truce last ? You took something of ours, kind one. And we want it back."

Tiberias’ expression hardened as he grabbed the man’s arm and forced him to let go of you. He only understood the young man’s intentions when the muttering around you became louder and louder and the eyes became judging and menacing. He immediately released the man’s arm. However, the harm was done. They were know looking at him with distrust and suspicion while Tiberias’ heart beat a thousand miles a minute at the realisation that he had just unintentionally made an enemy out of the people of this city…

"This city knows her heart. We trust our Alma will take the right decision." The young man said and disappeared in the crowd while Tiberias got back on his horse to return to the castle with you in his arms.

He looked down at you and sighed.

So much trouble for just one woman…He couldn’t even imagine how hard it must have been for you all these years without anyone to protect you…But, he was here now. He would never let you suffer again.

"…I will protect you, Alma. I promise."

A few hours later :

When you woke up, you were disappointed not to see Tiberias in the room with you. He had covered you with a blanket and left you to get some rest. However, you found him before dinner and he was taken aback when you suddenly took his hand. He was about to admonish you for already having forgotten his earlier request about physical affection in public when he noticed you frowning in worry. He found it puzzling and dropped on one knee to look you in the eyes, just to make sure you were alright.

"What is wrong, Almaealij Aleazim ?", he asked and you took a deep breath. You had healed the king, but what was to happen now that he had what he wanted ? He was no longer sick. Therefore, you were no longer needed.

You blinked your tears away before answering truthfully.

"I...I would have liked to stay with you." You confessed and Tiberias' eyes widened as he looked at your hands in his. He bent forward to press his forehead against your knuckles in reverence. His eyes softening as he sought to reassure you.

"I would never ask you to leave, princess."

Your brother was a great leader, but you had never been called princess before. You blushed a little and found that from his lips, it didn't sound as much a title as a term of endearment. At least, you liked to think so. Unfortunately, your moment was cut short by laughs in the corridor and you both turned to find three of the nobles standing there.

"Here. The bitch and her hound." One of them had the audacity to say and you flushed in embarrassment. You didn’t mind their hateful words, but you didn’t want it to tarnish your knight’s reputation. You tried to pull away from him, but it was Tiberias who refused to let you go this time around. He glared at the nobles who suddenly lost their smiles.

"She saved our sovereign. She deserves respect. You were all so frightened to fight for our sick king, when all she did was fight for him. Next time you dare open your mouths, your tongues will be cut off."

You gasped in unison with the nobles at his words. The nobles glared at him, but didn't dare utter another word. Tiberias was Baldwin's most trusted advisor and the finest swordsman in the whole city. He commanded respect by breathing alone, so the nobles only nodded and walked away—but not without throwing you one last nasty glare first.

You stayed by Tiberias’ side and looked up at him with nothing but admiration in your gaze.

"Wise Tiberias, tell me..What would it take for you to become king ?"

He was surprised by the question. You had never actually taken an interest in him or his life..But, he smiled and decided to indulge your curiosity nonetheless.

"It would take a very special princess to let me into her heart."

He thought of Sybil and laughed. What a funny thought..Him. King. Sybil had been born on the same day as Baldwin, but everyone knew that Sybil had came first. For him to become king, he would have to ask Baldwin for her hand and he'd rather cut his own dominant hand than lower himself to ask for the poor girl to marry him. But, your cheeks coloured red as you thought about it. You knew he wasn’t referring to you, but you were technically a princess. And you wouldn’t see anyone but Tiberias worthy of leading your people.

You seemed to ponder on it and Tiberias shrugged, not paying mind to the way your fingers seemed to grasp his even tighter. He didn't think more of it. He thought you would drop it and it would be another forgotten question.

He was wrong.

You suddenly stopped walking and Tiberias frowned as you lead him towards your bedroom instead. He didn’t question it though. When you were both in the room, you closed the door behind you and invited Tiberias to sit at the circular table in the middle of the room.

He sat. He sat and wordlessly looked at you—studying each of your movements carefully. He quickly understood that you were preparing him tea and he relaxed. He remembered the first time you had served him tea and the sweet taste of orange blossom that had filled his senses. He had missed it…

Thereby, he took off his sword and waited patiently as you stirred the tea in an elegant pot and poured it in two cups. You quietly sat down in front of him and gave him one of the fuming cups. He gratefully accepted it and took a long inhale of the soothing sweet scent of orange blossom, jasmin and other plants residing at the bottom of the cup. He then took a careful sip and his eyes closed at the sweet taste…such lovely fragrance and such enticing aroma.

He had asked multiple times for the recipe in order to learn how to prepare it himself, but you had always insisted on making it for him instead. You knew that giving him the recipe would be preventing you from having a reason to have those little private moments you treasured so much. You smiled as he took a second sip and seemed blissful for a while, his shoulders lowering and his features softening.

He was the perfect painting of an old soldier tired of war. And you wanted to give him the peace he so desperately craved.

You couldn’t wait any longer.

You had to ask.

"Marry me, Tiberias." The older man almost choked on his tea as he heard your request and opened his eyes with the furrowed expression you had grown accustomed to. It meant confusion with a mix of disapproval.

You thought he would laugh. He didn't.

He seemed to gather his spirits rather quickly and find the right answer to give you as your cheeks burnt bright red.

"…I am old.", he stated matter-of-factly after a few seconds and looked you up and down with a skeptical expression. But, you shook your head.

You cared for him. Deeply. And that was all that mattered to you.

"Age is of no importance to me. And it shouldn’t be of any importance to you either. The many books I have read on your marital customs taught me that an age difference is of no consequence over a union in your country."

His eyes widened and he was about to answer, but hesitated. It was true. It was of no importance to his kind. But…still.

"…The king already asked for your hand," he reminded you and you sighed.

"...I respect him. But, he is not you." You replied in a mere whisper, lowering your gaze in shame. It was true. You held the king in high respect. But…You couldn’t lie to your own heart. "I respect and value you more than any man in this entire castle."

Tiberias clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white and took a long and sharp inhale. Sybil had received many demands and it was normal for a young girl your age to feel discouraged when not receiving any. But, it was more than that.

A few days ago, Baldwin had officially announced that he would marry you in front of your own brother in exchange for peace. It was part of the peace treaty. And he would be a fool for not acknowledging that fact.

"Not enough to value my intelligence it seems. I won't sacrifice the kingdom and a possible peace for some childish crush, Alma." He said knowingly and your face became livid at the accusation. You had waited a long time to ask him, and he now wished to undermine you by calling your love a mere child’s game. You felt ashamed and humiliated.

However, it didn't stop your determination. You would marry Tiberias. You would marry Raymond the III of Tripoli.

"You are wrong, Tiberias. This is not a game. I will refuse the king’s demand. My heart already belongs to someone else..."

He frowned and was about to ask what you meant when one of your servants came to warn you that dinner was served. You nodded and both you and Tiberias stood up. You arrived in the throne room and Baldwin's face lit up at your arrival.

"TIBERIAS ! ALMAEALIJ ! WELCOME !"

You both sat down by his side and it was quite the sight to see Baldwin in such a good mood. He was given a second life and he seemed to enjoy it immensely. However, Tiberias was still thinking on your request to marry him. He sighed and looked around the table before whispering to you.

"If you wish to marry so badly, marry the king. Save your kingdom, Almaealij."

He mildly gestured to them both as he was talking, but you didn’t even look their way. You didn’t seem to be interested in his suggestions. You merely hummed absentmindedly.

"I respect and trust King Baldwin. But, I only wish to give my to heart to one man." You gestured towards the people around table idly, your attention solely focused on him.

He frowned.

"You shouldn't." He replied shortly and you raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

"And why is that ?"

You were genuinely curious. Tiberias seemed so serious all of a sudden. He knew he ought to keep his mouth shut, but he needed you to understand.

There was no such thing as a good man.

"Because men are foul beasts. And I'm no different. I just happen to hide it better than most." He answered you with a slight smirk and took a sip of his drink.

"I do not believe you." You said assuredly and your breath hitched when Tiberias' eyes darkened and he shook his head in disbelief.

"Then you are naive."

Your eyes widened at his cruel answer. He had never insulted you before. But, he seemed more honest than he had ever been with you too.

"You are the kind one. Everybody knows you." You insisted. He was kind. He had proved himself over and over to you. Why wouldn’t he see his own value ? He held back an eye roll at the familiar nickname and looked back at you with a mocking scoff.

"Kind one...It is but a name. One I never agreed to." His eyes then lowered to your dark purple dress and the way you looked absolutely stunning. You had grown from the little wildling he had brought to his majesty months ago. He looked around to make sure everyone was too busy eating to pay attention to what you were doing. And as if to prove his point, he snaked his arm around you and whispered in your ear—alcool untying his mischievous tongue.

"What if I tell you I have carnivorous desires as much as any man ? What if I told you I would be the first to bend you over this table and fuck you raw in front of all those noble men if it weren't for decency and etiquette ?" He squeezed your thigh meaningfully and you bit back a sound. "I am a hound, Almaealij. Never forget. I was bred to be vicious and merciless."

"I...I..." You tried to answer and he let out a mocking snort before leaning back in his chair with his cup in hand. He knew you were too young to realise…but, there really wasn’t such a thing as a good man.

"Do not worry, Almaealij Aleazim. I am still a man of my word and I promised I would protect you. I would never do anything to bring you harm." He finally released you and you stayed silent for a moment. His words rang in your ears and caused chills to run down your spine. Was it true ? Did Tiberias really have such impure thoughts in his mind ? Tiberias thought he had finally provoked fear in you—he was wrong.

He started eating and you tried to eat a few bites for appearance when another appetite had suddenly made itself known at the bottom of your stomach. You were looking at Tiberias with more hunger in your eyes than if he was one of those rare delicacies your brother would sometimes bring back from his trips…

Once dinner was over, you were the first to stand up.

"...Bring me back to my room, Tiberias." Your tone seemed so cold now, it was enough to sober up Tiberias who wondered if he had gone too far ? He lowered his cup and nodded dutifully.

"Yes, Almaealij."

He then stood up too and offered you his hand, but you ignored it. You bowed your head at the king who nodded in return. You then took your leave and Tiberias followed you—even though quite puzzled by your sudden coldness. He thought it good though. It was enough daydream for you. You were a really nice woman and he wanted you to understand that your feelings weren’t good for you.

But, still…

He had dared touch you and tell you things he shouldn't have...He opened his mouth to apologize, but no sound came out. You remained silent all the way and Tiberias groaned to himself. He usually never drank in company for that exact reason. Why...Oh why had he decided today was the best day to change that rule ? Once you arrived, he couldn't wait to run back to his room and gulp down his jar of red wine and go to sleep...But then, he heard your soft voice.

"Wait here."

And, he did.

He waited.

Because he could lie to everyone else, but he knew where his true loyalty lied. It was at your feet, waiting to be trempled or brought up to full glory...So, he waited. He waited and when you told him to come in—he did.

However, he didn’t expect to find you laid down on your bed and with your beautiful dress...You looked like an Ancient statue. He stopped dead in his tracks and frowned.

"Almaealij…What is the meaning of this ?"

You wordlessly patted the empty spot next to you and he suddenly understood what you wanted. He sighed and shook his head.

"I cannot…"

You frowned.

"I am asking you to sleep by my side. And I shall have you rest here."

Tiberias hesitated.

"It would be improper." He tried to decline. Your scoffed in return.

"Since when was I ever anything but improper ? Now, come. Come sleep beside me."

He could leave. It was the right thing to do. But, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He took a step forward. And another. And another. Until his legs hit the edge of the bed. You then sat on your knees and started taking off his armour. And he let you. You took off his shoulder plates and torso plate easily…You then proceeded to help him with the rest of his armour patiently and diligently. He was almost surprised by such an endearing display.

When he was finally rid of his armour, he felt almost ashamed. He was a soldier. He was meant to protect and defend. Not…sleep in front of the very person he was meant to watch over. But, you patted the empty spot once more and he had no choice but to comply…He laid down on your bed and closed his eyes. It was best to not let his eyes wander, or he would lose himself and whatever shred of dignity he had left.

You scooted closer to him and stared at him and his peaceful resting face. You leant a little closer and in the dark of the night, found relief in his comforting breathing. Your eyes dropped to his lips and you licked yours. You raised a trembling hand to your mouth and pressed the fingertips to your lips and slowly reached forward for his. An indirect kiss. A kiss which meant a promise.

You knew Tiberias to be wise and loyal to the ones he cared about. He was also trustworthy and had always been a good and loyal friend to you. He would make a good spouse, and you didn't intend to wait for Baldwin or your brother to find you another suitor to marry you off to. You wanted him.

"Tiberias. I want you."

He didn’t answer and you sighed. Was he already asleep ? You were about to move back when Tiberias grabbed your arm. He then spun you around to face him once more and pulled you flush against him—mumbling some incoherent muttering. You wanted to back away, tell him he had no right to touch your person and play petty so he may feel the pain you felt when you couldn't...But, the look he gave you made you lose all of your words.

"You...You want me, Alma ?"

Of course. Of course he would hear you. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and linked his breathing with yours. He had called you Alma. The name sounded so foreign, and yet fit you in some strange way...You would love him to call you that again. It sounded like "love". As if he shared the same special connection you felt, that distorted need for him which made you weak in the knees and want to cling to him, knowing he'd hold you steady.

"I want you, kind one." You confirmed. "…Do you want me ?"

There was a moment of silence where you were both unsure of what to say or do. You wanted him to reassure you…Tell you he loved you. But, Tiberias thought about what kind of future he would be offering you…He was old and tired. He barely counted as a man anymore. He was not worthy of you. But, he wanted to be.

"I want you too," He finally confessed. "I want you to be by my side and give me those sinful smiles of yours. I feel like I am losing my mind. I want to make you feel good and kiss you breathless every night. Have a family with you. Take you away from this war and make your laugh my only purpose. But, I am long past my prime, Alma. You should be with a young and valiant knight who will take care of you and..."

You didn't let him finish as you grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down so your lips met. His mouth was still open and you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and devour the inside of his mouth as if it was one of those da pastries you enjoyed so much.

Tiberias seemed lost for a second as his hands hovered haphazardly over your hips and he hesitated before kneeding the flesh there. He was surprised when a low moan made it past your lips and a blush spread across his cheeks. He hadn't even thought of the possibility that you could feel pleasure in his company. But, he suddenly seemed to get more confident and fisted a hand in your hair so he may kiss you with passion.

He was almost taken aback by your passion and enthusiasm. When you rubbed your leg against his crotch area, he almost let you fall. Dear Lord...Give him strength. He thought you would be shy, even quite prude on your first night together. But, he was wrong. He barely had the time to appreciate the smooth fabric of your silk nightgown that it was off and discarded. You were quick and seemed to know exactly what to do. You didn't hesitate before starting to unbuckle his belt. Tiberias' jaw almost fell slack as you didn't seem to be the young and innocent maiden he had discussed with at dinner. You acted impatient and ruthless. He thought to remind you of your manners, but was once more surprised when his hands were guided down to your mouth.

You kissed his knuckles and his breath shuddered as he felt his hands become putty under the care of your lips. He was surprised by the gentleness and innocence of the gesture..until you decided to lick his palm. He sought to retrieve his hands, but couldn't as you started sucking on the tip of his middle finger. He had seen literal bloodbaths, but the sight of his beloved Almaealij doing such a sinful action made him incredibly hot and bothered.

He had been married once. He had loved his wife dearly, but he had never felt such fire in the pit of his stomach during their nights together.

"Stop !" He finally told you and pinned you to the bed, not hard enough to truly hurt you, but enough to make you stop. He didn't expect when you threw your head back and let out a louder moan.

He then understood.

He had been bewitched by a cannibal. A man-hunter. A girl of sin..You were after his immortal soul and he gritted his teeth. He wrapped his hand around your throat and your eyes snapped open to stare at him.

"T-Tiberias..." You breathed out his name and Tiberias thought he was going to lose it. He claimed your lips and tried to trap all of your tempting words inside. But, he was unsuccessful as the moment his lips left yours, you dragged him right back to you and whispered all types of sinful obscenities in his ear. "I want you to ravage me. Make all those nobles know just how much you are worthy of my love. Make all those nose up court ladies turn green in jealousy upon discovering all of their jeering was misplaced. I chose the best husband. Now, show me how you would treat the best wife."

Wife...You wanted him. And oh...Did he want you...It burned his soul. This desire. This lust. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. His hold on you tightened as he sat down and effortlessly lifted you up to make you straddle his hips. He then tugged the hair out of your face to look at your eyes, your beautiful eyes darkened by lust and need. It was enough to make him hold his breath.

"Almaealij...I cannot marry you. My life is done. Yours just begun. I couldn't possibly...", he started—but you cut him off.

"Tiberias...Please." You pleaded and your lips hovered above his as you fisted his tunic—the wretched thing the only obstacle between you and what your heart desire.

"...Let me devour your pain."

His eyes widened and a single tear rolled down his face—one you licked away. You were starving and even though it was dangerous, you had dedicated your life to devouring other people's pain. It fed you. It made you whole. And Tiberias...Tiberias' pain was endless. You wanted him. Oh god forgive...There was no depth to this desire you felt for the man. It didn't make any sense. You had refused a crown for him. You had told Baldwin no because your eyes had already settled on the worthy one, the only man who had defended you when all of the crusaders called for your impending death.

"You...You really want this, don't you ?", he asked and you could see the sliver of uncertainty in his eyes. You held back a snort before stroking his cheek. How could such a man ever doubt a woman's desire for him ? Not only was he strong, he was kind and compassionate and...

"More than anything. Please.", you whispered and lowered yourself to place a chaste kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes and let out a defeated sigh before intertwining your fingers, suddenly pinning them over your head. You gasped in surprise and he kissed you again before slowly slipping his hand underneath your skirt...And then, he felt the scars.

His eyes lowered and sorrow filled them at the sight of your damaged flesh. To think someone had dared force you to do such a thing...He released your wrists to stroke the skin of your ankles with gentle care and you tried to stop him—but the look he gave you froze you on the spot. He then continued his ministrations and you let out a relieved sigh, but you soon felt tears run down your face and tried to hide them from him. However, he grabbed your arm before you could cover your face.

"Ssh...Almaealij. You are beautiful."

You looked up at him and the sight of his eyes on you burned and felt like heaven at the same time. You wished for it to never end, but couldn't wait any longer as you jumped on him and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Alma...Please. Don't..."

But, you were far too gone to listen. You wanted the pain to disappear. To feel wanted. And not just because you were the great healer of Jerusalem...No. You wanted to be needed. To be felt. To be seen. As a woman. Tiberias seemed to understand and didn't protest when you pulled his shirt off him and marveled at the rippling muscles hidden underneath.

"Kind one...You shall make me the happiest woman tonight.", you whispered and Tiberias felt his heart hammer in his chest at the look of utter adoration in your gaze. But, then...You felt the pain and leant forward to kiss him—but also suck all this sadness out of him. You wanted him to be happy, and as much as Baldwin...You could see the darkness inside and wanted to feast on it, make it so only Tiberias remained. Tiberias felt as if he was dying, but desperately grasped you and pulled you further against him. You wanted his pain ? He'd be more than happy to give you everything he had and more...He then started to gently unclasp all of the restrains of your underdress with surprising ease. You brought one of his hands to your face and placed a gentle kiss to the palm. His eyes widened and he panted as he felt like a young man again, just after his first kill, his hands covered in warm blood and this strange feeling in his chest...He then eyed your throat and let his mind run wild.

He kissed it and then, in the spur of the moment, bit it. You were all gentle gasps and soft mewls...It shouldn’t make him cry. He had slayed men before, but what he wished to do to you ? No man could ever imagine...

"I shall ravage you, Almaealij Aleazim. Do you understand what I mean ? You shall be mine and mine alone...You shall be linked to an old soldier who gave up all of his attempts at happiness years ago. I shall feed on your youth, as you shall feed on my misery. I shall steal your life, as much as you'll give me life."

Your eyes widened at the sadness in Tiberias’ eyes. He seemed sorrowful. As if he couldn’t believe it and was trying to scare you away. He seemed incapable of comprehending your love for him.

"Tiberias...", you muttered—your eyes softening upon his words. You slowly stroked his cheek soothingly and kissed him again. He had so much pain in him…It made him so much more valuable in your eyes. He had suffered so much—even though in silence.

But then, he grabbed your wrists and and you felt him thrust into you and all thoughts seemed to leave you. You whimpered and grabbed onto him for dear life.

"You brought this upon yourself. I tried to push you away. But, you kept coming back like...hmm...like a lost child. Like a...a lovesick puppy. They tell me I am the hound, but they haven't seen the size of your claws..."

To think he had the strength to speak while all coherent thought had left your brain the moment he had entered you. You clawed at his back and thrashed as he kept his movements very slow and steady—as not to hurt you.

"I...I need...", you tried to speak—but he slammed back into you and Tiberias even teased you as he raised his eyes up to meet yours.

"Yes, dear one ? What is it that you need ?"

You opened your mouth and surprised yourself by finding your words back.

"Tiberias. I need you."

"Is that so ?" He smirked and for a moment, his eyes seemed to shine with a streak of gold as his hand tenderly stroked your cheek. He hummed and went at an agonizingly slow pace purposefully to see your features tighten in frustration. He was admiring the woman writhing under him, who could have chosen every man in the kingdom...But, had settled for less.

It made him think of the first time you had met. He had been surprised by the fact that you were living in such a small house when you could have been living in a palace with that gift of yours. You could have chosen everything. Your beauty could have been enough to satisfy any man, but you had settled for this old run-down house, this shipwreck of an old time long forgotten. And he adored you all the more for it.

"T-Tiberias...", you called for him and sought him out with your hands—your eyes glazed by tears and your mouth parted slightly...He couldn't resist. He bent down and kissed you longingly and his hold on you tightened.

"Do not hide yourself from me. I want to hear you. Be as loud as you can. Make it so even heaven shatters with your screams alone..."

Your eyes watered and you obeyed. You let out a huge scream and Tiberias smiled. He then started nibbling on the skin of your neck. He knew the room was far away from everyone else's. You could be loud and let out all the pain you felt inside. He would hear it all...He would hear you.

"My princess...Mine. My lovely and terribly sweet princess.", he uttered in the darkness and you held on to him, seeking out his words as if they were the source of life itself.

"Tiberias...My heart sings for you. Can you hear it ?", you asked and he stilled in his movements. He stayed perfectly still for a few seconds when only both of your heavy pants filled the room and finally, he smiled. Your eyes widened, as you had never seen such a smile on him before...

"I hear it. It sings the same tune as mine."

He placed your hand above his heart and your eyes watered once more, but they were tears of joy. The music...It was beautiful. You slid your hand upwards and secured it at the back of his neck to suddenly crash your lips together. He responded with the same ferocity and resumed his movements before holding himself up by the elbows to look at you.

"Almaealij...My Alma. Mine and only mine..."

Your name sounded so sweet on his tongue and your ears reveled in the way he pronounced it. It was foreign to you. And even though you were sweating and feeling as if you were about to give any time now, you ran your thumb over his lips. You wanted him to speak again. If he was to be yours, then he'd have to speak to you everyday. What bliss...What joy...

"Marry me, Tiberias.", you reiterated your request and Tiberias suddenly stilled.

"Marriage...Would you really be willing to share a life with me ? For whatever time I have left on this world ?", he asked and you smiled at his puzzled expression.

"I would have asked you the exact same question if you had had but a few minutes left. I can't think of someone I would rather spend my life with."

"Such a great shame we won't be able to attend his majesty's breakfast tomorrow morning...", you said with a small playful smile and Tiberias responded with a small amused smile of his own.

"Do you really intend to keep me up all night ?"

You chuckled.

"Me ? Oh...If it were up to me, I'd make sure you stay in this bed with me forever."

Tiberias smirked before suddenly kissing you again.

"~What a shame indeed."

The very next day :

Tiberias mounted his horse very early in the morning and went to see your brother. The moment he was in the camp, he was surrounded by his soldiers, but they surprisingly let him pass.

They knew why he was here.

When he entered, Saladin was waiting for him.

"I know why you are here, Tiberias of Tripoli. My sister has spoken very highly of you and has already shared her plans as to marry you."

Tiberias nodded understandingly, but before he could ask what conclusion he had made…Your brother smiled.

"However, I am still undecided. So, I’ll ask you. How far are you willing to go for her ?"

"I would die for her.", Tiberias declared without hesitation—but your brother didn’t seem satisfied by the answer.

"That wasn't my question. I am asking you if you'd betray your own kingdom and moral code for her ? I know you, kind one. Your loyalty is not to be questioned. But...I want my sister to count on you. So I’ll ask you another question. If you had to choose between your kingdom and my sister ? Who would you choose ?"

Tiberias frowned at the question and he seemed to ponder on it…His kingdom was his home and you were his love. Who he’d be without them both ? Nothing.

"…I would fight until both of them are safe. I cannot choose because one cannot choose family over family", he admitted and was scared his answer might not be sufficient. But, he was surprised when he felt your brother’s hand on his shoulder. And when he looked back up, your brother was smiling.

His eyes widened when he heard Saladin chuckle and finally answer him.

"You have my blessing. Kind one." And with that, Saladin was out of the tent. Tiberias hadn’t noticed—but he was trembling.

He had his blessing.

But at what cost ?

A dark voice whispered at the back of his head. He had Saladin’s blessing and he knew what it entailed. He had earned himself a new home, but would his motherland forgive him for the treachery he was about to commit out of the name of love ?

He looked up.

He hoped his god was as merciful as the texts made him out to be…

#kingdom of heaven #tiberias vii calore #tiberias #tiberias x reader #king baldwin iv #fanfic #imagine #fandoms

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octuscle · 1 year

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Go to rack and ruin

At the prompting of @maletfwitch, here is a sequel to an older post.

The Abbas were glad to be rid of their unpleasant neighbor. Instead, they had a hardworking and faithful new employee. Unfortunately, the house in the neighborhood did not remain empty for long. And if the Abbas had believed that the old neighbor had been a scourge of God, this one was the apocalypse made flesh. The house was decorated with American flags and MAGA posters downright grotesque. At every prayer time, the neighbor played the American national anthem over outdoor speakers. Not only for the Muslim neighbors, for all neighbors in the immediate vicinity Mr. Carson was an absolute burden. Nevertheless, he had managed to organize a neighborhood watch and become the head of it himself. Needless to say, he preferred to position people in front of the Abbas' property and made no secret of the fact that they were the threat to security and order. Fortunately, the Abbas knew how to help themselves again this time.

When Mr. Carson awoke the next morning, he was not wearing freshly laundered pajamas. Instead, he was wearing a sweaty wifebeater and a pair of worn-out underpants that might have been white at some point. Bleary-eyed, he went to the refrigerator and grabbed a cold Bud light. Fuck, where had he put his chewing tobacco? The kitchen was a mess again. Peter Carson filled a garbage bag with beer bottles, the contents of various ashtrays, and the pizza boxes from the last few days. He went outside, tossed the garbage bag to the others in the front yard. The last ones had been tampered with by those darn rats or raccoons. Miserable vermin. Like the filthy terrorists next door. Still in his underwear, Peter raised the American flag, saluted, took a swig of beer and belched. Old Mrs. Price across the street turned away in disgust and pushed her walker a little faster.

Peter went back into the house. So slowly he had to get to work. His hardware store was opening soon. After a quick shower and a rather sloppy shave, Peter, in his lumberjack shirt, not-so-clean jeans and old work boots, left the house and got into his swank Mercedes. Did not really fit him and also not to his job. He could not even remember when and why he had bought this car. But it was a good car and it had been built by good people. Not by those dirty gooks. In his store, he also only sold things that were built in America. America first!

When he returned home after a long day at work, he cursed his old car. Yes, 30 years ago the Mercedes had certainly been a good car. But the repairs would have been expensive, now neither the air conditioning nor the right turn signal worked. The Teutonic steel was slowly turning into a rolling pile of scrap metal. Oh well, Pete thought to himself as he pulled into the cluttered driveway. Fits the house with the rotten porch and broken fly screens. Pete sat down on the porch with a not-very-cold beer from the decrepit refrigerator, picked up his air rifle and shot at the possums rummaging through his trash.

As they did every night, the police came. The stuffy neighbors would have complained about him again. Pete slurred that the cops should fuck off. The cops fucked off and took him to the drunk tank.

Fuck, if he was late for work again today, he'd lose his roustabout job at the sawmill, too. Just like he had already lost the house and his store. But he loved his life in the trailer park. All good American men here. Always someone around who had a cold beer or a can of chewing tobacco. Just the damn rats! Pete took his rifle and tried to take out some of the beasts. Hehehehe, four had to go down. A swig of beer on top of that. And then off to work in his German sweetheart, which he had tuned so impressively himself.

#male tf #reality change #chronivac #redneck tf #revange tf #male transformation

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mymarsmoonandstars · 2 years

Text

On Shuri and Riri...

and how their bond sets up Shuri's and Namor's fundamental difference

I can't stop thinking about how Namor's proposal sounded like utter madness to Shuri, when only a few days ago, during a moment with her mother by the river, she seemed fully positioned to accept it. So what changed? She met Riri. And in Riri, she saw herself reflected back.

At the dorm, Shuri could have shown anger at Riri for building a machine without thinking of the ramifications, but instead their encounter went much differently. Shuri's enthralled by her. When discussing the vibranium detector, Riri says that her professor had no faith that she could build one. "To be young, gifted, and black, though, right?" Riri adds, hinting at the struggles that black folks face with the American school system. But then Riri immediately expresses doubt that Wakandans share a similar phrase, most likely believing that black folks aren’t stunted in a nation like Wakanda. As we know, this isn't necessarily the case. Shuri agrees with Riri's sentiment by saying, almost to herself, "Brilliance at a young age is not always accepted by the elders." Though the reason for their struggles are different, the core of it is the same. They are young, gifted, and black, and both grapple with the issues that come with being such. In this dorm room scene, you can almost see Shuri's heart unfurling. She's meeting her former self, the funny, vibrant one that existed before her brother's passing.

It was this person--this sliver of childhood--that woke Shuri up, that reminded her of what and who must be protected in the world. And to extend this further, Shuri has lost her identity as a sister, but through Riri, she can regain it. She can heal, because Riri offers her the chance to be to someone like her brother was to her. Pretend insert gif of Shuri and Riri dapping each other up. It's reminiscent of Shuri and T'challa in the first film, isn't it? Shuri can continue T'challa's legacy in this quiet but monumental way. Shuri can become not just an elder, but a better one.

Or a great one, to echo Namor's words. It's funny how he says that his own ancestors believed only the most broken people can be great leaders. And I think that can be true... I mean, the more 'broken' you are, the more you've been hurt in the past, and hopefully that means you can share a better connection with others and try to limit the pain that's been done unto you. If the film is saying to be broken and to be great means extending compassion to others, then Namor fails to do this with Riri.

Namor only calls her 'scientist.' She's never more than that. Unlike Shuri, Namor only sees her as the danger she put his people in, and due to his avoid-risks-at-any-cost thinking, it's impossible for him to view her as otherwise. Does he ever question why Riri built the machine? Does he ever seek to understand why Shuri is so adamant about protecting her?

Does he ever see Riri as wholly human?

Like even before Shuri knew her, as soon as she saw Riri, she understood she could not give her to Namor. Shuri protecting Riri come hell or high water maintains Black Panther's theme that the safety of black girls stands above all else. And the way that Shuri recognizes this, even though she was blinded by fury and grief and willing to burn down the world--which would have girls like Riri in it--a mere days before, shows just how much the heart of her character conflicts with Namor's.

Shuri takes the risk to see the humanity within others. Namor is not so lenient. And yet, it was this difference that saved his life in the end.

#now will namor use this lesson to do better next time?#or will he use this as a tool to get his war?#we shall see!#wakanda forever #wakanda forever spoilers #shuri #namor #shuri x namor #among the talks of their similarities i wanted to discuss their differences #shuri extended understanding to namor and his people #it's unfortunate that he didn't do the same #shuri x riri #wakanda forever meta

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voidsentprinces · 2 days

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Xenophobia is often associated with the fear of the foreign or what one might consider alien. But it is also known as Fear of the Unknown. Both definitions infect every inch of the Hydaelyn/Zodiark Arc. In how each expansion shows how the lynchpins of the narrative both fully accept it in a double edged sword sort of way.

The Garleans have a xenophobic destain for the Eorzeans who they see as weak and primative as the Beast Tribes. Because, like the Beast Tribes summoning their Primals, Gaius believes Louisoix called on the image of the Eorzean's Twelve to succeed in Carteneau. But, due to how Gaius functions as we see in Orphans of Werlyt Arc. He also sees potential wrapped in his xenophobia. That so long as you are of use to the Empire or his conquest, you are good enough. But he is clearly neglectful as we see how easily Varro just moves in to fill his power vacuum in both his, Nael and Nero's absence from their respective "projects". In considering Lahabrea could be playing him like a fiddle. In believing and relying on the Allagan Ultima Weapon to subjagate and prove his right to rule, which is why he had broken off without Emet's blessing to pursue the conquest in the first place. So while Gaius and Garleans are hypocritical from foundation to cause in that they fear the primal's power after Solus showed them the Burn and then again when facing the forces of Doma, the Confederacy and Eorzea. They are more than willing to place their faith in the unknown weapons of Allag or a simple soldier suddenly discovering cereuleum and making machines to run off them after being a timid, stoic figure previously.

In Midgardsormr, we hear about his traveling through the sea of stars and seeing all the dead planets and worlds. He does not know what caused this, he is younger than the summoning of Zodiark and yet Meteion had all the time in the world to destroy every planet but the Omnicron's and the Dragonstar which fell to war and destruction. His fear of the unknown manifesting in his indifference to Ishgard and the Dragonsong War and the blessing the Warrior of Light has been granted by Hydaelyn. Believing that weak mortal like us couldn't stand up to the despair that Venat must of notified him of. Which is why he calls the Blessing, a Curse. He has seen the destruction of this unknown despair but is willing to let the First Brood War against the various forces of Eorzea without oversight.

In the Holy See, who literally built a war against literal canonical aliens in the fight against Nidhogg's Dravanian Horde and through their xenophobic zealotry are also more than ready to suddenly turn to the alien concept of summoning a Primal based on their founding heroes of eld. How Thordan is so easily swayed by the whispers of Igeyohrm, Elidibus, and Lahabrea. And while seeming to himself to be fully in control of the situation. Becomes a Primal to become immortal to obtain the alien presence of a God. And doesn't even stop to consider, he is literally goading the Legendary Primal Slayer into conflict by doing so.

...Jesus Christ Stormblood. I do not think I am qualified to even begin on this. Doma and Ala Mhigo are beaten down for twenty years to be alienated from the prospect that they are free. They eventually submit to the Garlean rule because it is better than death. Living under the oppression is better than dreaming for better. They let it consume them, let it eat them, and fall under it. They reject their fellow revolutionaries who bring the outside power of the Scions because of this. They have seen the rebellion flag raised and lost their young and old alike in the revelry. Ala Mhigo having the freshest scars from Baelsar's Wall being a trick by Ilberd. Doma reeling from the death of their Emperor and perhaps his son Hien. The Oronir reject the outsider interference to the Rite of Naadam until they have given tribute and are welcomed in by the Mol. The Dotharl are indifferent to their pains. But when Garlemald marches on their lands, they go to the banner of their new leader by sacred rite. Elidibus and Asahi use Doma's overcaution to orchestrate a coup plot to oust the Popularis and bring Doma into conflict with Garlemald once again. While Varis is knowingly leaning on the foreign power of the Ascians to see his plan to fruition.

Shadowbringers, I mean...literal eldritch beings who will take away all you know and love because they veraciously consume the resource of aether and how this corrupts or strengthens those who are victim of this. Emet orchestrating the birth of Vauthry to lead the masses with a strange power they don't question, Ran'jit clinging to the Oracle of Light until this moment, the Viis fiercily defending the Ronkan Lands at the behest of the long fallen empire even though it hides a Lightwarden which brings most of their woes and dwindles their tribe on the daily, the fear of the two Dark Religions in Rak'tika and how they deal with death. One immediately siding with Eulmore if it means they will have dominion over the Greatwood, the others somber but in revelry hoping for the return of the sunless sea, Lakeland most accepting of the foreign exarch and all his...quirks. Il Mheg being once a proud kingdom now overtaken by the fae. Their King corrupted by the Light Madness. Amh Araeng at the foot of the Flood of Light paused. Its ill sickened by the light poisoning. All of them wholly welcoming the foreign aid of the Crystarium and the Warrior of Dark while being apathetic to their own plight, not wishing to hope.

Emet-Selch. Seeing us as lesser beings and wanting to burn all down in service of a God he thinks he knows. Which also putting a faint hope the success of a fragment of Azem. His empire built upon the xenophobic zealotry. His heart steeped in spite and the hatred that Azem disappeared that day and Hythlodaeus is lost. He understands we must learn of the Ascians and Amaurot to know of the unknown. While rejecting Eorzeans and Mortal Kind with every fiber of his being. Ignorant in his wisdom and spiteful in his intellect. Elidibus more or less the same but because he can't remember, while Emet-Selch cannot HELP but remember.

Ardbert literally over there being a foreign shade alienated from the world he cannot touch. That his friends are sacrificed for. That hates him for the heroic sacrifice they brought upon them. Only to be welcomed back and find rest by his oldest and dearest companion, Seto. Who will forever keep him in his memories. And in us, the Warrior of Light who he taught what little he knew of the cultures in his age. Ardbert forever living in our hearts.

Fandaniel wearing the suit of Asahi, the familiar but never knowing his true face until he introduces himself as Amon. Ironically, or thematically relevant, another character who wears a mask. Only once we peel off that mask do we meet Hermes. Who rejects the practices of Amaurot and actively seeks out into the unknown. Creating Meteion who becomes the all encompassing force that consumes the unknown. He fears and relishes the Answer he so desires.

And Hydaelyn...a previous Azem who developed xenophilia. Being enamored with the world and all its cultures. When a time traveler drops on her door step she is enamored. She has to test our strength, learn of our aetheric weakness, becomes the first to accept dynamis as principle, to accept our story of the Eorzea become. Shows us her world with the utmost happiness. The only xenophobia she encounters is the fear of the unknown. She is apprehensive that we might fail and builds the moon to ferry us away if that is the case. But she also puts all her faith in us. As that ship could also send us to Ultima Thule. She does not know if we will succeed but she hopes. She hopes beyond limits. She hopes our stories of the Final Days and the Convocation sacrificing 2/3rds of its population is false...until it happens. Until she sees her fellow peers succumb to being bound to Zodiark. That she realizes that all that was said shall come to past. And so she endures and endures and endures. Until finally, she retires to the lifestream. Both she and Hermes dying without gaining the Answer to their question. Venat's being: Will we succeed? She will never be reborn to know as she is not like Zodiark where Elidibus might of existed after his vanquish. She is a primal and fully committed to returning to the lifestream never to gain the luxury Hythlodaeus, Elidibus, Lahabrea, Fandaniel, or Emet-Selch will. A chance of rebirth and happiness. And she is content in that.

While alot is strenched in this on the definition of xenophobia in both bigotry, racism but also fear of the unknown. It can be no doubt that Venat and the Warrior of Light are the antithesis as xenophiliacs. We love to experience the new worlds and sights. We do not shirk from learning of other cultures and people who inhabit the stars and its reflections. In Dawntrail, we make a concerted effort not just to learn of Tural and all the cultures Galool Ja Ja has prospered and made welcome. But of the Empire Sphene and Zoraal Ja build and their history and beliefs. We are no longer fighting against Gaius's conquests without a second thought. Garlemald is our catalyst that its founding Emperor, Solus zos Galvus began. To learn of our enemies and our allies and to understand them completely before the inevitable meeting of arms. For in the wake of the antagonistic there is a beautiful weave of people who can be our friends, colleagues, rivals, peers and they each and everyone hold a beautiful story.

To hear what they say, to feel their emotions, and think about their tales.

I was going somewhere with this but I forgot. K bye.

#{ rambling from the Void }

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under-olympos-bodhi-tree · 1 year

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On Xenia, Missionary Work, and Living in a Broken World

I'm still getting used to writing these blogs, but I had something nagging at me from earlier today, I hope this essay does it justice. Long post ahead!

A friend of mine, not a close friend but still a friend, works at a sit-down restaurant and has shared difficulties with life and the service industry with me. Earlier, they shared that a Christian group visited their restaurant, ordered notably expensive food including steaks, and were not generally the best customers, but they left a $100 tip to my friend at the end of their stay.

This bill, however, turned out to be fake. On closer examination, it was a concealed note made to look like a $100 bill advertising a local Christian group, informing them that "Jesus is worth more than this bill!" followed by an ad for their congregation. Setting aside that the bill was literally worthless, as it was not worth any money, this... upset me. But let's peel back a little.

A common theme among religions is that the gods show up in the poorest of society. The concept of Xenia in Hellenic Polytheist religious belief and Ancient Greek society is built around the idea that Zeus and any other deity could appear as a poor beggar asking to sleep under your roof in the rain, or at least that they might be watching.

For those who may not see things so literally, it is still fundamentally a religious matter that humans built the world and make it what it is, even if we all still dance to the invisible tune of the Theoi and the Fates, and that we have some kind of a responsibility to build a better world from those who walked before us.

All of that is pretty common among religions, with only the details changing. Buddha lived as an ascetic with his only shelter being a tree where he had his awakening, the ancient Israelis were penniless slaves who were led by Moses who was essentially an exiled refugee, Jesus was a peasant carpenter, etc. The idea that the divine comes to our without money at their lowest is not new.

There is, however, a very toxic mentality that I have mostly observed among preaching and missionary Christian groups. It is that, because Jesus lived without money, that he is the wealth that matters. The idea being that faith in Jesus is the only thing that matters, as someone without him is damned, and the more souls you save by making them realize his supposed trueness makes you a better person by making them realize this, and possibly earns you better brownies in Heaven.

This is, however, disregarding virtually every other cultural experience in exchange for having this world view. Well-adjusted, comfortable and safe communities who worship a different god must obviously be proselytized against in this view of the world, for even the happy and comfortable cannot truly be happy for they do not know the son of your sun god if you seek conversion rates above all else in the mortal world. We have all seen this in effect.

There is a grim cowardice to this entire world view. It is a fundamental unwillingness to see the perspectives of others, to have empathy, and move your mind out of your own head. In this world view, no one who isn't you can be happy and good, all must be bent to your shape to match the perfection that you were so obviously built in.

I was raised Mormon, and this cowardice has been weaponized to an enormous degree by building entire cultural cornerstones by preaching and conversion and proselytization. Those who do not surrender vast sums of money in order to travel to strange places without friends and family purely so they can bother other people with this 'truth' that they do not want... well, to not do it makes you less than a person to the Church, unworthy of the paradise they promise you.

I in no way wish to state that sharing religion is bad. Talking to people that you know, sharing your world view, talking about what you believe, telling them about the beauty of the divine that you have witnessed, all of these I feel are an innate good. But if you see the world narrower than a pinhole, if you believe that every humans who is born, toils and dies under our sun must believe in Jesus and God in order to have a shred of value and thus seek to force it on them by any means necessary, you have perverted the entire arrangement.

Dan Olson did a wonderful documentary on Flat Earth and qAnon in which he stated that to Flat Earthers, they are not simply in ignorance of geography, but that the simple denial of truth is a weapon, a tool, in which they seek to build the world in their image by denial of facts through a force of will to build a metaphorical flat earth in which they are right and their enemies are silent. When you do not seek to enlighten, to share, to learn, and instead seek to use your will, words and resources in order to hammer anyone you ever meet into a familiar shape, to build the good little Christian paradise on Earth that is so clearly strangling those who do not see it as a paradise, you have built a horror.

And it is into this environment that the final horrors take shape. The denial of refugee aid by powerful religious organizations without conversion, the refusal of helping others without getting something in return, the clawing tendrils of rigid enforcement of religion and culture that forces people into your group for fear of leaving it, the refugees and poorest people in my city who were forcefully converted by missionaries in return for food and shelter is the final result of such a narrow world view, in viewing every human as needing to conform to you and your way. This is homousian as the horrors that have ravaged the planet for centuries, that has devastated native cultures, killed generations of queer people, and built the worst of the world.

It is in all of this that the introduction to this essay began. A Hellenic Polytheist, working a thankless job, bringing fine steaks to those who taunted them with fake money while promising that their note had the only thing of value.

What if I told you that my friend was moving away from an abusive lover or parent and desperately needed money for shelter? If they were trying to scrounge together money to pay for insulin without insurance? What if I told you they were paying for an unexpected funeral and were facing the reality of being unable to bury a loved one? What if I told you they had cancer and needed every penny to get surgery and chemotherapy?

Thankfully, they do not have any of these things to my knowledge, and were simply annoyed. But to dangle a religious truth that they are not interested in, teasing them with the money that, to the knowledge of these Christians, may have saved their lives, while taunting them that your carpenter god would cure these things for fealty like a feudal lord, is a vile and small-minded idea. That this person was likely not the sole executor of this evil and likely was simply promised by higher-ups that they were doing good, that they meant well and genuinely thought they were helping, does not decrease the horror of the world and mindset that would create this circumstance. Because next time it will be someone with cancer you yank hope away from.

I hope, dear reader, that you can extract my meaning on the purpose of Xenia, and good deeds from this, and see a small piece of the dark horror that small minds and narrow eyes can build. When Zeus appears at your doorstep dressed as a ascetic beggar, the fact that this beggar may not be Hellenic does not matter. That he may not be your color, or that he may not be healthy, or that he may be different, is not an excuse not to be kind, to think outside of your own experience, and to embrace those who need us the most. Because your $5 and your kindness and understanding to your waiter or barista or your uber driver is far, far more valuable than a pamphlet and a condemnation.

I'd like to send you off with a small story I like about the Buddha. This story is neither historical nor truly about the Buddha, but it is an enlightening tale containing a deep religious truth told through fiction, not unlike our Greek mythology:

While the Buddha meditated beneath his Bodhi tree, searching for truth and enlightenment, he peered beyond the mortal realm and saw a thief in hell who had repented and begged forgiveness. The Buddha, seeing that the man wanted to change, to come back to Samsara and to fight to be a better man, lowered a spider's web into hell for him to climb.

The Thief graciously began climbing up towards the Buddha. However, the other denizens of hell began climbing up after him, and he feared that the delicate spider's web would break and take him back to hell, so he began kicking them off. The spider's web was stronger than the finest steel and could have taken all of them, but his kicking broke it like it was thread.

Be kind, love each other, and always seek a better world.

-Lady Nikki

#hellenic polytheism #dodekatheism #hellenic pagan #pagan #hellenism #zeus deity #xenia #buddhism #dharma #spirituality #philosophy #anti capitalism #anti missionary

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morganaspendragonss · 2 years

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heart catches on every thorn

in which i take the revelation scene and modify it to let tk actually have some feelings and react

not really interested in going over arguments again so i'm just going to drop this and then back away title from sweet hibiscus tea by penelope scott

ao3 | 1.1k | 4.01 spoilers, hurt/comfort

The sound of the crew’s laughter floats up to them, proof that the world hasn’t stopped even if it feels like it has for TK. He’s sitting on the end of his bed in the bunkroom, Carlos above him on the divider, and this news above him, casting a shadow over the brightness of these weeks since he proposed. He’d imagined so many things going wrong, had almost counted on it, really, but not this. Never this; never even anything close to this.

TK doesn’t blame Carlos for what he did when he was eighteen, adrift in a family he believed wouldn’t accept him. How could he? He will never be able to understand how Carlos must have felt back then and TK has long since made his peace with that. He doesn’t even blame him for continuing the marriage after Iris came back; TK knows as well as anyone – perhaps even better, given his job and numerous hospital stays – that the system in this country is broken and that desperate, extreme measures are sometimes necessary to stay afloat, much as he wishes it weren’t so.

TK understands all that, and he’s okay with it. What’s harder to get his head around is that he’s only just hearing about this.

“Why did you never tell me?” he asks, chancing a glance up at Carlos. His fiancé looks destroyed, eyes wide and sad, and it tugs on TK’s heart like only Carlos can. He wants nothing more than to hold him and tell him that everything will be okay – and it will; if TK has faith in anything, it’s that they are strong enough to get through whatever fate sees fit to throw at them. But he needs to understand first.

Carlos takes a shaky breath and looks down at his hands, then back up at TK. “I didn’t know how,” he says. “I thought she was dead and we weren’t…you know. Things were complicated, and then after she came back she needed me. She needed my help. And we were just so new that I didn’t want to ruin it with something as huge as–as this. The situation got out of hand and I didn’t know how to deal with it so I just didn’t and I convinced myself that if you ever found out you would—”

He cuts himself off, but TK knows what he was going to say.

“You thought I would run away,” he surmises. Carlos starts to stammer an objection, but, though the thought sets off a dull ache in TK’s chest, he can’t deny it. “No,” he says heavily. “You were right. I… I probably would have. If you had told me this two years ago, I probably would have run away.”

It’s a paradox, in a way. TK wishes Carlos had been honest with him from the beginning, but if he had known when they first started dating, it would be a lie to say that he wouldn’t have been tempted to turn tail and run. So maybe Carlos not saying anything was what got them here, to a day where they can talk about this and move past it.

But still. Still.

It doesn’t get rid of the ache in TK’s chest and the terrible thought at the back of his mind that the past three years have been built around a lie. That he doesn’t truly know the man he’s planning on marrying. That there are other secrets, other skeletons, that are just waiting for their moment to jump out.

If he thinks about it anymore, then he will get pissed. He will explode, and TK doesn’t know how far he’ll be able to control the damage. So, he stands and takes a step back.

“I love you,” he says gently, pouring as much of himself as he can into the words to convince Carlos he’s telling the truth, “and I’m not running away. But I need some time.”

Carlos’s face falls and TK can’t help but to close the distance once more, wrapping his arms around Carlos’s neck and holding him close. “We’ll be okay,” he murmurs in his ear, pressing the lightest of kisses to his skin. “We’ll figure it out together, I promise.”

TK pulls back then, sliding his hands down Carlos’s sides until they fall back to his own. “But I need to figure this out for myself first, okay?”

Carlos swallows, nods. TK sends him a watery smile and gently strokes his cheek. “I love you,” he says, then turns away – to go where, he doesn’t know; just somewhere he can process everything for a moment.

“TK, wait.”

Carlos’s voice stops him in his tracks and TK waits as he catches up to him, a hand nervously running through his hair and mussing the tightly gelled formation he keeps it in for work. It distracts TK for a second; Carlos is perfect in every way, but his curls are one of TK’s favourite physical features of his. He loves getting his fingers caught up in the strands, tugging at them and playing with them and messing them up even though Carlos pretends to hate it. He itches to reach up and do it now, but Carlos’s next words shock him out of his thoughts.

“There’s something else,” Carlos says, though his eyes quickly widen and, before TK can spiral any further, he rushes to correct himself. “Not a secret. Or–or anything bad, I swear. It’s just…the venue called earlier. They had a cancellation and they’re offering us the spot. It’s in, um…” He trails off and his gaze turns down, but TK doesn’t get a chance to ask before he continues, “It’s in eight weeks.”

“Eight– Baby, that’s…” An out-of-control grin tugs at TK’s lips, but he can’t forget what’s looming over them and the joy is fast replaced by an almost overwhelming anxiety. “Can we make that?”

“Texas law requires you to be divorced for a month before remarrying,” Carlos tells him, and the anxiety goes up another notch. “It’s tight, I know, but we can make it. We will, TK, I’m going to do everything in my power to make this right. I will make it right.”

“We will,” TK corrects gently. “Just…not right now. Give me a minute to get my head around things first.”

“As many as you want,” Carlos promises, and that… Well, it’s a start. TK’s under no illusion about the headfuck this is going to cause, and just thinking about the newly accelerated timeline and the urgency of getting this divorce is enough to set his entire body on edge. It’s a lot – too much – and he knows he’s got some conversations with Cooper ahead of him to make sure he stays firmly on the ledge.

But TK has faith, and he’s going to cling to it with everything he has.

#911 lone star #lone star spoilers #ls season 4 spoilers #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #useream #tusersilence #tusererica #ejsraven #usermbg

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aceswritingcorner · 1 year

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Desire paths have led to many things in life, and in some cases, they become forgotten through the years. Never walk in a quiet forest, you never know what you might just find...

-C.W: yandere themes, reincarnation, mention of lucidity, mentions of death; destruction; war/battle

Part one- here | Part Two| Ko-fi Link

--- ---

There have always been a number of gods that plagued the Earth for centuries, some are dormant whilst others lay awake. Tilling the land to become fertile for scavengers to plant and nurture the various, living beings that everyone helped take care of. Villages were scattered across the lands. Textures only known by the gods above painted the air in forms of whitened streaks as darkened clouds that rolled against the sky’s horizon. Clashing colors of smoky blacks and of greys that ranged from the darkest charcoal to the lightest shades of steel and smoke.

Tiled roofs of imbrices and tegulae overlapped one another, as more important buildings were tiled with pieces of bronze, marble, or even gilt fired against the tiled elements. Communal buildings were shared amongst the people, worshippers, and travelers alike seeking shelter from the seasonal storms or the wrath of an angry god and goddess. Desire paths lead throughout the villages, leading animals and people to their chosen destinations. Many different paths strayed in different and similar directions, all leading to different desires chosen.

One path, in particular, led to the temple of two special gods that observed and cared for the lands that were under their reign. At first glance, a new worshipper would have held the belief that the two opposing forces were paired together from their appearances. Stories and tales portrayed the two gods as a form of yin and yang, diametrically opposed forces that lived in harmony with the other. The very few worshippers that managed to have seen the gods at the temple would say that they believed the wrong person to be in control of the dark and the light.

Each god that lived in the temple wore a simple chiton made from sheer linen that showed their outlines lain against the fabric. There were two gods in specific that lived amongst the carved stones of the temple that stretched across the forested land.

A golden-haired, lithe-figured god strolled throughout the quiet halls of moss-covered stones. A simple chiton covered his body, the fabric dyed a simple color of a dark, russian violet that complimented the god. He would be known as Yin.

As commonly known, with every Yin, there is a Yang.

The raven-haired god adorned a simple, white, chiton that brushed against the solid stones of the hall as he gazed at the scenery with his passive husband. His physique was moderately different compared to his lithe husband, a stronger physique built his human form.

Peaceful scenery filled the temple area, light streaked from the gaps of the leaves of the thick branches of the oak trees. Cracked and carved stones that built up intricate points of the temples edged walls as vines climbed between the cracks, morning glories peaking up into the sunlight. For a small moment, everything was peaceful with the quiet sounds of the linens as they brushed against the cusp of their ankles before stilling its movement.

Sadly nothing lasts forever-

Eons had long since passed from the temple’s once vibrant days. Many had come and gone from having their faith entrusted to the many deities that once roamed the lands, to forgoing faith in its entirety. Wars had broken out over gods and those that believed in them, murder and genocide streaked the world as olde gods let themselves fall comatose. Only a few lucky ones managed to bring themselves back into the world as different beliefs rose and fell through the world.

Two gods were lucky enough to acclimate, favoring holding their power in those that believed in yin and yang rather than the old offers that the passing travelers would set down for safe travels across the globe.

Neither were ever able to part from the massacred ruins of their temple, where they had once found love and joy in. Where peaceful sounds once filled the air; a deadly, chillfull quiet took place. A ruined temple standing in place of a god's wrath.

Rushed footsteps pounded against the dirt, unknown forces leading down the faded and overgrown desire path that led to a forgotten temple. To those who had forgotten, the forest seemed untamed. Overgrown with weeds, vines, and moss alike -shaping around hanging limbs and fallen trees- Everything had been destroyed. What once shaped pathways through the wooded land had become cracked and buried ‘neath scorned and scorched earth.

Everything had turned quiet, yet no peace was found in the scorched woods.

‘Faster.. Faster… Faster!’

Never travel alone. That’s what everyone always said, that was the rule. If you’re going to go somewhere, never attempt to travel alone unless necessary.

Some tourists never seemed to listen. Antagonizing jeers of drunken men faded as you forced yourself to run faster, stumbling against upturned roots as decay coiled against the greenery. Nothing good would come if anyone stepped over the line. No one ever came back the same.

The boundary line was something natives stayed aware of. The gods had set the burnt line years before anyone could remember, stories passed through generations to respect what they had done. Humanity had been the ones to set the first flame against the gods and incur their wrath; it was best to respect the line burned in stone from it.

Fallen trees spread across the decayed land as bugs made their way across the rotting bark that they called home, or food. No one could remember what the old temples looked like, architects could only attempt versions of the temples; Pastiche architecture brought ideas of what the buildings could look like.

What was once filled with vibrant life now cloaked itself with darker greens. Clashing against decayed browns, faded yellows, a hopeful speck of maroon and gold sparked against the undersides of the leaves. To have seen the forest in its once abundant state would be considered a dreamer’s wish.

Natives who survived off the lands shared stories with their families, making sure that no one would attempt to break the boundary. It had been created for a reason.

Measures had always been taken to make sure everyone stayed safe. Natives, travelers, and wanderers alike were meant to be kept safe from the line that featured the power that the gods held in their palms.

Muted footsteps pounded against the ground, pushing through thorned stems that pricked at your legs as the plants brushed back to cover the faded desire path that led into the woods. The world was put on mute.

At least, that’s what it seemed. How else could one ever explain the unnatural quiet that lurked amongst the shadows, grazing its claws against your back to draw away lurking visitors and those that didn’t belong?

“Silence is the most powerful scream-” That’s all that could come to mind as you looked around the forest, chest rising and falling as you made attempts to catch your breath. Heart pounding in your ears as your eyebrows drew together, where the hell were you?

Animals had long since fled away from what they had reserved as home when the first scream pierced the air so many decades ago. Measly things had stayed, broken stones and boulders that formed unstable foundations; trees fallen from being wounded –leaning against one another akin to a soldier fallen during battle.

The gods were angered that day. Angered. Irate.

That’s what the survivors had told the new generations, warning to never cross behind the back of a god. ‘Least they fear the wrath of what created the deafening yell, destroying the temple and all its remains.

What was unknown, hidden beneath the layers of ferocity, was distress— a cry for someone, anyone, to bring them back.

The world had become broken that day as the temple became destroyed and buried amongst the land, trees, and moss acting as a shield to cover the shelter. Some would utter words of disgust under their breath, others would simply turn their backs on the ruined building, but the few others– One word could only be said…

“Beautiful…” The word slipped past your lips before you could catch it. You brushed your hand against the hanging vines, giving yourself an opening before slipping past to the other side. Mossy stones stacked against each other with carved divots. “This place—” You tentatively moved forward, taking small steps into the beginnings of the temple as you brushed your fingers against the stone. “Something bad happened…”

Your words couldn’t have been more true, something bad occurred and no mortal man could ever have done the destruction. The temple's beauty still buried in the markings on its walls, as vines coiled like snakes against broken pillars. No mortal man could ever have caused this much destruction and yet, have kept the temple’s beauty alive.

—-

“Sho, someone’s here.” His words laced with worry as he turned to look at his dark-haired partner. A shaky hand clasping the other’s for comfort as Hizashi knit his eyebrows closer. “I can hear the footsteps, someone’s here.”

He whispered the last word cautiously as his partner gave a small look. Shouta didn’t have to say anything as he shared a look with the blond man, words needn’t be said as he gave a small nod. An unsaid rule took place as he let go of Hizashi’s hand, trailing his fingers against the other’s palm. They just needed to protect the temple, he’d protect it like always.

— —

Your footsteps echoed quietly against the broken floor, greenery encased the broken, swirled patterns. The temple was broken, embraced with the heart of the forest instead as moss, vines, and climbing plants held the temple together.

Glazed black and white chipped tiles patterned the mossy floor as your shoe nudged against a dirt-covered tile. Your eyebrows furrowed as you crouched down to look at the piece, it was just big enough to fit against your palm as you cautiously picked it up.

“What?” You muttered, brushing your thumb against the dirt as white and black slowly became uncovered. “Yin and Yang..”

You looked up, swallowing as your eyes grazed over the broken statues before slowly standing back up with the taijitu in hand. “This is a temple- That’s it, I’m going crazy.” A breathless, stressed smile pressed against your mouth as you gave a breathless laugh. “There is no way in hell that this place is what they were talking about.”

This temple wasn’t supposed to exist, right?

Stories about this place surrounded the town, the older generations would talk about the stories revolving around this place.

“-’fraid so, buttercup.”

A voice came from behind you as you jumped, clutching the stone tightly against your palm as your eyes widened at the man. This- This had to be a dream, you were dreaming? Right-?

You swallowed thickly, taking a small step away from the man as your eyes ran over his form. The dyed cotton tunic that covered his upper body, was dyed a soft powder blue that seemed to match the untamed hair that sat atop his head -wild, unruly- almost like the mane of a lion that one would see when visiting.

A bright grin that never seemed to leave the man’s face, bearing his teeth in a way one would approach a close friend that you haven’t seen in a long time. Even the man’s eyes, shining with the brightest capability he seemed to possess naturally. Electric blue- that was the only way that seemed to give some semblance of a name to the never-ending shades built up in the iris.

A soft breeze brushed against the cusp of your pants as the small cloud that the man sat atop of dissipated into the air. This- This couldn’t have been real… The man held a strong build, with broad shoulders and toned arms. His skin tanned from what you could only guess was through years of working in the sun and yet he showed no sign of aging past his youthful looks, with bright eyes that held soft lines at the corners brought out by the smile he bore.

His right hand curled around smoothed wood of a quarterstaff, the darkened oak seemingly light as a feather in his touch as he brought the staff behind his shoulders, lifting his free arm around it. His eyes never seeming to leave you as he cocked his head to the side in a soft gesture.

“You remember them, don’t you?”

He softly questioned, his eyebrows drawing together slowly as he mulled over the silence that filled the air. You had to remember them, it was only a few days ago that he saw you the last time with the others. When Sho and ‘Zashi would go in the gardens and they’d watch him paint the sky with clouds, blissfully enjoying the bright laughter and points of when one of you would teasingly make shapes from his creations.

“ –Buttercup?”

No. No no no… this had to be a dream. A messed up, lucid, hallucination… “You do know them, right?” The tanned man pointed a hand towards the taijitu still in your hand, the black and white perfectly swirled together. “You.. remember them.”

It wasn’t a question. The man spoke clearly, confusion lacing his tone as he looked at you, his right foot slowly dragging forward before being followed by his left. How did you not remember?.. It was only a few days ago that he saw you last. He watched as you took a small step back in return to him moving closer, your fingers twitching against the soft edge of the symbol.

“I- I don’t know you, I’m sorry..” You shook your head, swallowing thinly as you felt the anxiety slowly build inside your chest. This- you were just dreaming, it had to be a dream…

#t.w yandere #mha angst #mha x reader #aizawa x reader #hizashi x reader #oboro shirakumo x reader #bnha x reader #god au #erasercloudmic #mha x male reader #mha x gender neutral reader #ace's corner #erasermic x reader

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