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kwanisms · 11 months

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The Library of Illusion — the Restricted Section (finale)

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➮ incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader wc: 9.6k (I'm tired. You didn't see that lol) summary: After obtaining the final key and incapacitating the Keeper of the Keys, Y/N finally enters the Restricted Section, hoping to find the famed treasure and access her freedom but instead funds something much darker and more sinister awaiting her. genres/themes/au: angst, smut; fantasy, horror, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, demon au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, demonic themes, predator-prey dynamics, pierced & tattooed!Joong, Hongjoong is a demon (he has horns, demon eyes, and other attributes like hoofed feet, a tail, sharp teeth, forked tongue, etc.), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @prestineaugstine @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasangelbaby @yourfatherlucifer

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly @rangerobbie @yunhosmelonbar

join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: the restricted section is supposed to be taboo subjects, which is why I went in this direction. Of course, if you aren't not comfortable with these subjects, do not read this piece. You can always read the beginning for the lore but there will come a point where there's no return so to speak. Thank you so much for joining me for this journey and for reading my works. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. Header and banners made by me. Adult content & reblog banners made by me with a template made by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

TW: THERE ARE HEAVY DUBCON & NONCON THEMES IN THE BEGINNING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I will include a warning before the dubcon and noncon again. You have been warned and will be warned again.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it, especially if you're gonna fuck a demon lol), use of pet names (sweetheart, angel, princess, slut, etc), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), rough sex, dacryphilia, big dick!Joong, demon cock!Joong, choking kink, breeding kink, forced orgasm, Joong has an oral fixation, impact play (mainly spanking), Joong has a tongue ring, mention of blood during sex. I think I got all of them but let me know if I missed any!

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“Welcome to my home.”

You stared at the man before you, eyes glancing up at the horns protruding from his forehead. Your eyes continued to look him over, trailing down to his exposed stomach, noticing black ink decorating his skin. You hadn’t noticed he was watching you watch him with an amused grin

“Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s impolite to stare?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he crossed the distance between you in seconds, leaning into look even closer as you stumbled backwards. He let out a dark chuckle.

“Someone’s shy,” he whispered. “You weren’t this shy before,” he added.

You narrowed your eyes. “B-before?” you stammered. Hongjoong sighed, closing his eyes as he rolled his shoulders before opening his eyes again to look at you.

“Never mind that,” he murmured. “As I’ve explained, this is my library and it’s my home. You, mere mortal, have wandered into my home,” he started to explain, slowly starting to circle you, keeping his eyes trained on you.

Almost as if he were a predator and you were his prey.

“Why are you here?” he asked suddenly. “I—” you hesitated. Hongjoong waited for you to speak, tilting his head to one side. “Are you here to find the treasure?” he asked softly. You shook your head, closing your mouth quickly.

Hongjoong’s head tilted the opposite way, like a puppy. “Are you perhaps looking for… satisfaction?”

Your heart skipped a beat, your stomach lurching. ‘How does he know that?’

Hongjoong’s curious expression morphed into another mischievous grin, like he had a secret or knew the answer to something you didn’t.

“This is my library,” he reminded you. “I know everything that goes on in here.”

“Like Seonghwa?” you asked, noticing the way Hongjoong’s smile fell.

“No,” he said, all amusement gone from his voice. “Seonghwa’s vision is limited. He may be able to see what happens in the sections, but he cannot see into this one. Only I can truly see and hear everything,” he explained, continuing to circle.

You fell silent, following Hongjoong with your eyes, only turning your head when he left your line of sight. He continued to slowly circle you before speaking up again.

“Have you found what you’ve been looking for, little lamb?” he asked. “Have you found satisfaction?” You shook your head silently, keeping your eyes on him. “You haven’t?” Hongjoong asked, stopping in his tracks. “After all those lovers? Are you truly that insatiable?” he asked, a smirk spreading over his face again.

You shook your head again. “That’s not the satisfaction I meant,” you answered, your voice meek and small. Hongjoong’s smirk grew. “It’s not?”

You nodded as he resumed circling. “I didn’t set out to find this place only to fuck multiple men,” you added. Hongjoong snorted. “Only two of them were men,” he answered. “The other five were monsters.”

You felt heat settling in the pit of your stomach as well as rising to your cheeks. “I hardly think monster is an appropriate term,” you retorted, drawing his attention. “Sure, they might not have been human,” you continued.

“But they weren’t awful.”

Hongjoong let out a laugh this time. “That’s not what I meant by monsters, sweetheart,” he explained. The alien and the elf are one thing,” he continued. “But the jorogumo? The vampire? The naga? Those are all bestial creatures. Sure they’re part men but they’re mostly driven by animal instinct. Even that alien is driven by pure instinct.”

You watched him as he continued. “And despite not looking for that satisfaction, you seemed to leave each section satisfied.” You narrowed your eyes before scoffing. “Because I managed to obtain the keys,” you explained. “The sexual aspect was unintended.”

Hongjoong let out another deep chuckle.

“If that’s the case,” he started, stopping to turn and face you. “Then why did you keep accepting their advances?”

Your words failed you as you were faced with the truth of his inquiries. Why did you keep accepting the advances of each guardian? You could have easily killed for the keys. All encounters seemed to have one common denominator.

You easily, and in some cases willingly, gave into the carnal pleasure. Why?

You tried to wrack your brain for any reason but found none. ‘Why did I agree to have sex with all of them?’

Wooyoung, Mingi, and Seonghwa had all mentioned their venom being an aphrodisiac so that could easily explain your behavior but what about Yunho? Or Jongho? Or Yeosang? Or San? What was the excuse? What was the explanation?

Looking up, you decided on one thing. It didn’t matter.

You did what you had to, reminding yourself you needed each key to get to this point. To access the restricted section so you could escape the Library of Illusion.

“Does it matter?” you finally asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Hongjoong tilted his head, a playful expression on his face. “Does it matter? No,” he said softly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

You nodded once. “Exactly. I did what I had to, I gathered the keys, all to escape this place. I want to leave and return home.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrow raised. “Without the treasure?” he asked. You exhaled a deep sigh. “I’ve never wanted the treasure,” you admitted. “I came here to find knowledge, see what my parents were so keen to find. And I’ve found nothing of importance.”

Hongjoong’s smile fell, replaced with a scowl. “Nothing of importance?” he snapped. “Is that what you think?” You took a step backwards as he glared at you with an intensity you hadn’t been prepared for.

“You think your experiences aren’t important?”

You shook your head. “Had I not come here, I wouldn’t have had to do those things to escape. I expected to find something of note. Some kind of knowledge or something of great historical importance. Like the Library of Alexandria,” you explained. “But instead, I found a magical library full of horny creatures and men!”

Hongjoong bared his teeth before relaxing and standing up straighter. “Fine,” he finally spat. “If all you desire is to escape,” he continued. “You may do so.”

You stared blankly at him. “Just like that?” you asked.

Hongjoong scoffed. “Of course not,” he answered.

“You still have to find your way out of here,” he explained. “I’m going to give you a head start,” he explained. “A head start? What for?” you asked softly. Hongjoong smiled at you, the points of his fangs barely visible.

“I’m going to count down from fifteen,” he explained. “You have fifteen seconds to find your way out.” You felt a shiver run up your spine. “And what happens when fifteen seconds are up?” you asked in a quiet voice.

The smile on Hongjoong’s face widened. “Then I start hunting.”

Your stomach dropped, heart skipping a beat. “W-what?”

Hongjoong tilted his head, an eyebrow raising as he stared at you.

“You think I’m going to make it easy for you?” he asked, an amused tone in his voice. “You have fifteen seconds to get as far as you can before I start hunting you down.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking, your voice cracking.

“And if you c-catch me?”

Hongjoong’s eyes glazed over. “Satisfaction,” he bit back, smiling and displaying his fangs.

You stared back, frozen to the spot as terror coursed through your veins.

Hongjoong licked his lips before opening his mouth.

“Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen,” he said softly, staring at you, eyes full of excitement.

“Twelve, eleven, ten,” he continued, tilting his head, smirking at you with a devilish look. “You should probably run,” he whispered.

Heart pounding, you spun on the spot, glancing around quickly before taking off as Hongjoong continued to count down. You shined your light around, looking through the aisles, stepping over ruined books and crumpled paper.

‘Where is it? Where is the exit?’

Your eyes landed on a distant neon sign that looked to be an exit sign. You started to sneak your way towards it, ducking behind shelves and turning off the light, taking slow deep breaths to try and steady your breathing and your racing heart.

“Five, four, three, two…” Hongjoong paused for effect, the thud of his heavy boots echoing around the room as he walked towards the edge of the circle.

You held your breath, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. The room fell silent and you peered through a gap in the books beside you, allowing you to see into the center of the room where Hongjoong stood.

Your eyes widened as he seemingly scanned the room, stopping briefly over the shelf you were hiding behind. When he continued to look around the room, your shoulders relaxed before his head snapped back to the shelf you were hidden behind. “One.”

In a split second, the demon had crossed the room, grabbing the shelf with a clawed hand and ripped it from the floor, carelessly tossing it aside.

You screamed as the shelf crashed into another, wood splintering before scrambling up and dashing off in the opposite direction. You ducked around bookcases as Hongjoong laughed in the background. The echoing thud, thud, thud of his boots started to follow you in a casual manner.

“Keep running, little lamb,” he called out as he walked. “I’ll always find you.”

You managed to sneak your way to the opposite side of the room and squeeze yourself into a small alcove, focusing on slowing your breathing, making sure to breathe through your nose and keep quiet as Hongjoong stopped walking.

You could hear him start to chuckle, turning into laughing as he started walking again, each foot step heavy against the ground. “It’s so funny when you try to steady your breathing,” he said as he continued walking, drawing closer and closer. “But you could hold your breath and I’d still find you.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, hitting your sternum with a tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump. Hongjoong clicked his tongue, allowing you to deduce he wasn’t far away. “That right there,” he continued. “That’s what gives you away. Your heart is so loud. I could hear it in the other room while the vampire had his fun with you.”

You peeked around the corner, making sure the coast was clear before silently sneaking away as quickly and quietly as you could. You needed to get your bearings and find that exit sign again. You peeked over a low shelf and saw it off to your left. If you could just sneak around the corner, you could hopefully make a dash for the exit.

Upon scooting closer towards the exit, you found yourself at a dead end where two bookcases blocked your path. ‘What the fuck?’ You turned around and crept back to the center of the room, keeping your eyes open and avoiding the circle of light as you crept around the edge of the circle.

“You’ve discovered my little maze, haven’t you?”

You froze, ducking behind one of the shelves as Hongjoong stepped into the light. His appearance had altered slightly. He still had the same horns but his eyes were different. Black scleras with golden irises. He also sported a tail that had seemingly torn through the back of his pants.

“Oh, that was rude of me,” Hongjoong continued. “It’s not fair if I read your mind.”

You cursed silently as you listened. ‘Shit, I completely forgot!’

“Tell you what,” Hongjoong said, coming to a stop in the center of the room. I’ll give you another chance,” he said, holding his arms out in a grand gesture.

“And because I’m so generous, I’ll give you another head start but since I already gave you a large one, I’ll give you a smaller one this time. And I promise not to read your mind or use my super hearing. I’ll give you ten seconds this time,” he added with a mischievous smile.

You glanced back to find the wall behind you was solid. You decided to follow it, keeping low and out of sight as you crept behind the short bookcases until you slipped into an opening as Hongjoong began to count down from ten.

“Nine… eight… seven…six…”

You pulled a bandana from your bag and wrapped it over the front of your flashlight before clicking it on, the cloth cover dimming the beam and casting a dull red glow in front of you. He was right. This place was a maze.

You followed the path until you reached a large open area. You had two options; you could go left or right. You chose right, following the shelves until you reached a dead end.

Cursing silently, you backtracked, taking a left and following the shelves to another fork. This time you took the left path and followed the narrow aisle until you reached another crossroad. You chose to continue to the left and let out a soft swear when you reached a dead end.

Now you had to backtrack again.

You moved quickly, keeping your eyes and ears open for any sign of the demon. Once you reached the second fork you’d come across, you went the opposite direction, taking the right path instead of the left you chose earlier.

This path took you to another fork. You shined your light at the right but upon hearing a book fall from that direction, you took the left path which led you to…

“Another dead end?” you whispered, shining your light around. You backtracked, freezing when you heard the familiar thud, thud, thud.

He’s coming.

You decided to take refuge behind a bookcase, hoping Hongjoong would take the path to the left like you chose so you could sneak past him.

A shrill whistling met your ears as he whistled a tune, walking slowly until his footsteps stopped just on the other side of the bookcase. You ducked down, hoping he couldn’t see through the wood or books.

You heard him sigh before he started whispering.

“Eeney, meeney, miney, mo…” he trailed off. You held your breath, blinking tears away before you heard his footsteps head for the left. ‘Yes!’

Once you were certain the coast was clear, you peered around the bookcase before silently sneaking out from your hiding spot. You cast a glance back as you backtracked to the first fork. You’d tried two routes already and hoped the third would be the correct one.

You made it back to the first fork and took the left path, following it around, turning left and right as you followed the narrow aisle. From behind you and several aisles over, you could hear the heavy thudding of Hongjoong’s boots. “How clever, little lamb,” he chuckled as his voice echoed around you.

“Making me think you went one way. Such a clever little girl.”

You choked back a sob as you hurried forward. The bookcases opened up and you could see Hongjoong standing in the center of the room. You made eye contact, stomach churning as he smirked at you.

Before your eyes his coat ripped, wings sprouting from his back and making you scream. You turned away and made your way towards the green neon sign that you could now see read ‘exit.’

“You can’t escape me,” Hongjoong called, the wings shaking off the remnants of his jacket before he took to the air as you reached a straight shot towards the exit door. You glanced back once more and let out another shriek as the demon started towards you, flying over the bookcases, filing cabinets, and tables.

You ran as hard as you could, finally pushing the door open and slamming it behind you.

Blinking at the sudden light you looked around before something hit the door. You screamed, looking for something to barricade the door and decided to push the cabinet beside you against it.

You managed to block the door and backed away as the demon growled, roared and pounded against the door. “Come out, come out, little lamb,” a deep gravelly voice said. “Leave me alone!” you screamed, tears freely flowing now.

“Aww, you want to be alone, little lamb?”

The deep, demonic layer to his voice was gone now. A beat of silence was followed by his maniacal laughter. “You’ll never be alone again,” he said, the threat in his voice apparent as he scratched against the door, his nails grinding against the metal.

Turning away from the drawer, you scanned the room. It was a small room with a few bookcases, a rolltop desk, and a hutch cabinet. The glass on the cabinet was either broken or coated in a thick layer of dust. Everything was coated in dust.

You looked around, eyes settling on the desk where a stack of papers was strewn across the surface. You slowly walked over, inspecting the contents now that the banging had stopped though you knew you couldn’t linger for too long.

Your eyes landed on a specific sheet of paper. It was old with loopy handwriting. You carefully picked it up and read, eyes scanning the sheet.

‘Twenty-third of June, in the year sixteen-hundred and twelve,’ the first line read.

‘We’ve gathered at the town centre, many of us coming from villages from far away. The town has called upon us to act. Residents have complained of being plagued by a demon. Yunho was the first to arrive—’

“Yunho?” you whispered, pausing your reading as the face of the alien from the science fiction section flashed in your memory. ‘What does he have to do with this?’ you wondered before continuing to read.

‘Next to arrive was Jongho, a young priest from an ancient sect. The youngest in his order.’

Jongho’s face, a shy smile on his lips, filled your mind’s eye. ‘What is going on?’

Continuing to read the manuscript, you learned that all of the Guardians were based on these priests and the one who had written the manuscript was Yeosang.

“This doesn’t make sense,” you whispered, turning the page over to look at the back where a symbol had been drawn. It was something you’d seen before. The insignia on Seonghwa’s key and it happened to be an amalgamation of all of the guardians’ insignias.

“So these priests were drawn to the town to capture the demon?” you whispered to yourself as you looked over the other sheets, seeing hastily written scripture, crude drawings of what appeared to be various rituals and symbols.

‘Were they trying to banish him?’

A chill ran up your spine and you decided you’d seen enough. “I don’t have time for this,” you said, tossing the paper onto the desk before turning to look at the open doorway you’d seen when you first looked around the room.

It was dark and made you hesitate to enter but you knew that was probably your only way out. Your feet refused to move though. You glanced back at the desk, looking down at the papers before letting out a frustrated groan and pushed the papers aside.

You found sketches of the priests, eyes widening as you looked each one over. There they were. The faces of all six guardians staring back at you. “What the fuck?” you hissed. The details were uncanny. It wasn’t like they resembled them. The guardians were exact carbon copies of the priests.

“If the guardians are modeled after these priests,” you whispered, setting the pages down. “Then who is Seonghwa? How does he fit into this?”

You started rifling through the pages, setting aside the ones you’d already looked at. You knew you didn’t have time for this but you’d never have this question answered if you didn’t look now. ‘I don’t have much time,’ you reminded yourself.

‘But I have to know!’

Your search concluded as you read an old newspaper article from the late 1870’s. Your eyes scanned the page, reading a story about a woman and her fiance who went missing in the jungle you currently stood in. Your eyes widened as you looked at the pictures of the couple.

The woman was beautiful, she had long dark hair, styled into an elegant updo. She wore a dress with a high neck, reminiscent of the fashion of the Victorian era. The man was the spitting image of Seonghwa. ‘Is this…’

Your thoughts were cut short by a distant metallic clang coming from beyond the door frame. You dropped the newspaper and turned to look at the doorway, the blackness both inviting and intimidating.

‘That’s enough research,’ you told yourself. ‘Time to go!’

You made a dash for the doorway, peering into the room on the other side to find it was actually a stairwell. Rushing past the doorway, you leaned over the railing, looking down to see the steps continued for a long while, eventually descending down into darkness.

Raising your head, you looked up, squinting slightly as you were met with bright light coming from what seemed to be a square cut out in the ceiling. You raised a hand to shield your eyes as you looked. ‘Is that… daylight?’ you wondered, feeling a slight swell in your heart. ‘Is that the way out?’

“Finally,” you whispered, starting for the steps leading up. “This nightmare can end!”

As you reached the steps, you froze in the spot, one foot on the landing, the other raised to step onto the bottom stair.

Something felt wrong. You looked up, peering between the cases where you saw a face peering back from several floors up. Your eyes widened in horror as you made eye contact with Hongjoong. The eyes were the same black sclera with yellow irises, his horns were still the same black but his skin. His skin had changed.

It was now a sickly gray and flaking, giving him a grotesque and monstrous appearance. He grinned at you, showing all of his sharp teeth. “Hello,” he said cheerfully. You gasped and turned tail, heading down the stairs instead of up. Footsteps pounded against the stairs, following you down as you used the railing to turn the sharp corners.

‘Come on, come on!’

The darkness never came as you ran down several flights of stairs before finally bursting through another door, glancing back to make sure you were followed.

You ran into a solid body and screaming, hitting the figure only for them to grab your arms and yell at you to calm down. “Stop! Stop!”

You glanced up, eyes widening as you looked into the face of…

“Seonghwa?”

The vampire held you firmly as he inspected your face. “W-what? How did I get here?” you asked, looking around. You weren’t back in the lobby but you were in a dark hallway. The walls and floor were made of stone. The same sandstone as the temple. “Wh-where are we?” you gasped, turning to look behind you where there was nothing but an empty wall.

“I heard you screaming,” Seonghwa started to explain. “So I came back here and I found you running away from that wall,” he added, nodding towards the empty wall. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking back at you.

You turned back to meet his gaze. The same golden eyes you’d seen before looked back at you. “Y-yeah,” you gulped down air as you nodded. “You’re almost free,” Seonghwa said, giving you a kind smile. “This is the last stretch.”

You let out a tiny sob as he pulled you into a warm hug. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered. “Come on,” he added, pulling back and pulling you forward, taking a step behind you. “You’re so close now,” he added.

“Don’t give up.”

You felt him give you a small push towards the direction you were facing. At the end of the hall was a door. It was unlike any of the doors you’d entered before. It was white painted wood. You approached it slowly, turning to look back at Seonghwa who nodded, gently moving you forward.

“I can’t open it for you,” he added. “You have to do it yourself.”

You strolled forward, stopping just short of the door before taking a deep breath, reaching for the knob and twisting it.

The door swung open to reveal your living room. You let out a shocked sob, looking around the room. You turned to look back at Seonghwa who nodded, giving you a smile and gesturing for you to enter. “Go on,” he urged.

You stepped past the threshold, looking around the room. Everything was as you left it. You ran your hand over the dark stained wood of your staircase bannister, a smile spreading over your face. “I can’t believe I’m home,” you whispered.

“This is goodbye,” Seonghwa said from behind you. You turned to look back at him. He had a somber expression on his face. “Come with me,” you said suddenly. “You could escape him, too,” you added.

Seonghwa gave you a sad smile. “No one ever escapes him.”

His words seemingly froze you in place. Your breathing increased, heart racing as you stared at the vampire. “Wh-what did you say?” you breathed.

Seonghwa had looked down at the ground. “No one escapes him,” he repeated before looking up. His eyes had changed. You let out a gasp as the facade of Seonghwa melted away to reveal Hongjoong.

“I told you I’d find you, little lamb,” he said with a dark chuckle. “N-no,” you whimpered, backing away from him. “You can’t. I’ve made it out!” you screamed. Hongjoong glanced around the room from outside the door.

“Are you sure about that?”

Glancing around the facade broke. You weren’t in your home. You were in a large room. There wasn’t much except a table with some chairs, an old four poster bed with dusty sheets, an old wooden chest and a wash basin.

You looked back at Hongjoong who gave you a menacing stare before stepping into the room. You backed into the table as he entered. Your lips parted, eyes widening as you took in his true form.

His pants had faded away into black fur, his legs were no longer that of a human but were bent the way a goat’s legs bent, fur covering from his waist down to his feet. The heavy black boots were gone, replaced with black hooves caked in either mud or something else you didn’t want to imagine.

Your path out of the room was blocked, Hongjoong now standing before you at an impressive seven feet tall, his tail flicking behind him with excitement. The tattoos adorning his torso and arms faded into a smoky black at his waist and near his wrists. His fingers were capped with sharp claws, also an inky black.

“Please,” you whimpered, edging away from him along the table. “Please let me go.” The tears flowed freely as you begged him. Begged for him to let you go. For him to spare you.

“Let you go?” he asked, tilting his head. “But we’ve had so much fun,” he explained, advancing slowly on you as you backed against the wall.

“F-fun? Chasing me all over, stalking me? That’s fun?” you whispered. Hongjoong let out a deep, frustrated sigh. “Maybe that was more fun for me but what about everything else?” he asked, leaning in and caging you against the wall.

“What are you talking about?” you snapped, trying to cower away but the wall kept you from escaping. You flinched as Hongjoong brought one of his hands up, taking your chin gently in his hand. “The hut in the jungle?” he asked, tilting his head. “Or what about the cave? All that web? That wasn’t fun?”

You gasped, about to ask how he knew about all of that but he kept going.

“And what about at dinner? When I cut your dress open? That wasn’t fun?”

You shook violently, trying to push him off. “S-stop,” you whimpered.

“And what about the section after that? The crime section? That wasn’t fun? I lost control for a bit there,” he said, chuckling as he remembered and it suddenly clicked for you. When Jongho had you bent over the counter. His voice had changed and he’d known about the other encounters.

Had it been Hongjoong the whole time?

Hongjoong chuckled again as recognition passed over your face.

“And what about in the treehouse? You have to admit that was fun,” he continued. When you said nothing, he tilted his head in the opposite direction. “And what about in the temple? I’ve always wanted to try having two coc—”

In response, you brought your hand back, slapping him across the face. “SHUT UP!” you screamed. “Stop talking! Just shut up!”

Hongjoong blinked slowly before turning his head to look at you again. “Wrong move, sweetheart.”

You felt his fingers close around your throat. You grabbed at his wrist as he lifted you against the wall, pinning you. You gasped for air, feet dangling inches from the ground. “Please!” you gasped. “Put me down!”

Hongjoong let out a growl before throwing your body onto the bed. You sputtered and gasped, coughing as the dust rose around you. A stretching rubber sound caused you to look up to see Hongjoong’s appearance had shifted again. The black goat legs were gone, his black pants back as he knelt on the bed.

You backed away until you were cornered against the wall and the headboard.

[FINAL WARNING. NONCON & DUBCON THEMES UNTIL THE NEXT CUT]

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed. Hongjoong let out another frustrated huff of air before grabbing your ankle and pulling you towards him. “No!” you cried, trying to grab onto the sheets and trying to pull away.

You tried kicking him with your free foot but he caught that one and pinned your legs to the bed. “This will be a lot easier for both of us if you’d just cooperate.”

You thrashed wildly, trying to free yourself but his grip was too strong.

“You gave into me before,” he said, pulling a bed restraint from under the mattress and cuffing one of your ankles. “What’s so different now?” You screamed, trying to pull free but he grabbed your other ankle, cuffing it as well. You sat up, trying to pull the cuffs but he was too quick, climbing onto the bed and pushing you back, pinning your hands against the mattress.

“Six times,” he said breathlessly. “Six times you’ve given yourself to me.”

You blinked up at him, tears streaming down the sides of your temples. “Why is it so different now?” he asked again, sliding his hands up your wrists and lacing his fingers with yours as his head ducked between your head and shoulder, tongue dragging over your neck.

“Haven’t I proved myself a very capable lover?” he asked softly, trailing kisses up your jaw to your cheek slowly. “Haven’t I satisfied you more times than anyone?”

You choked back a sob. “Haven’t I pleased you? Made you cum every single time?” You let out another whimper. You shook your head. Hongjoong pulled back to look at your face. “No? That’s not what you said before,” he added, leaning in, his lips inches from yours.

He was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face. “Shall I recall each and every orgasm you’ve had so far because of me?”

You shook your head again, a small sob leaving your lips. ��P-please,” you whimpered. “Please let me go…”

Hongjoong huffed, dropping his head briefly as he shook his head slowly. “I told you already,” he said softly. “No one escapes.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Hongjoong hesitated, the tip of his tongue sticking out, playing with the metal tongue ring you’d barely gotten a glimpse of earlier.

“Why am I doing this? Doing what?” he asked softly, leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek. “Why am I trying to seduce you?” You shook your head.

“Why does no one escape? Why won’t you let me go?”

Hongjoong sighed heavily. “You really haven’t figured it out yet, have you?”

You stared up at him as he sat back, keeping your hands pinned to the mattress.

“What am I?” he asked, tilting his head. You glanced over him quickly. “A demon,” you answered, albeit hesitantly. Hongjoong nodded, giving you a grin. “I am,” he answered. “But I’m no ordinary demon,” he added.

“W-what does that mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “It means,” Hongjoong said leaning in. “I know you read those papers,” he whispered. “You know what I really am.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You had read those papers, he was right about that. You learned about the binding ritual, the priests that had come from all over to seal the demon, the man hovering over you now, to this location. You learned about Seonghwa’s involvement and how he came to be here.

You’d also read Yeosang's notes about what Hongjoong was and the kind of havoc and terror he wreaked over the town.

‘In his most vile form, the demon is half man, half goat, blackened skin on his hands, almost as if he’d been burned, the skin charred from the flames of Hell. Black patterns like vines creeping over his arms, torso, and back. His black fur covered legs bent like that of a goats. His eyes black as night with golden rings in the centre. Black horns extending from his forehead and curving back over his caramel hair. Truly a hideous beast to behold. But to the women of the town, he appears much different. A man, not a beast. There’s only one word for his kind.

Incubus.’

You nodded slowly, looking up into his eyes. The black sclera had changed back to white but the same golden glowing irises looked back at you. “What am I, sweetheart?” he asked softly. You tried to speak but your voice failed you, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Speak,” Hongjoong said softly.

“I-in-incubus…” you whispered, your voice no louder than a breath.

“Do you know what an incubus is, sweetheart?” His inquiry made your breath catch in your throat. Had you not known before reading those papers in that room, you would have learned what an incubus was.

Thanks to your upbringing and your parents’ instilling a love and thirst for knowledge in you, many nights had been spent reading as many books, texts, and documents as you could. The vast library at your childhood house was home to many books in a vast array of differing topics.

You were around 18 when you first learned what an incubus was. The texts in the Library here had explained in further detail the deeds Hongjoong had performed before the priests arrived to seal him away.

‘Many women have fallen to the advances and lies of the demon. He’s managed to seduce and ensnare many of the town’s women, both married and unmarried. He’s defiled much of the town’s female youth, seducing and bedding them. He would have their very souls if left to continue. He must be stopped.’

You nodded silently. “Yes,” you whispered. The smirk on Hongjoong’s face grew.

“And you know what I’ve done?”

Again, you nodded, blinking away the tears. “And you know what I’m capable of?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered. “I could easily force you,” he continued. “Force myself on you.” Your heart hammered in your chest, stomach lurching and heat rushing to your core. Hongjoong seemed to notice the shift in your body.

“Does the thought of me taking you by force arouse you, little lamb?” he asked, grinning mischievously, the points of his fangs exposed. You tried shaking your head but you could ignore the feeling between your legs when Hongjoong pressed his erection into you. “I think you’re lying,” he muttered, an amused tone in his voice.

He rolled his hips against you again, this time earning a soft moan which you tried to hide by biting into your bottom lip. “It’s okay to enjoy it,” Hongjoong murmured, watching as your face contorted in pleasure each time he grinded against you. He could smell the arousal pooling in your panties and the heat radiating from your skin.

“It’s okay to give in,” he added, leaning in to nip at the skin just under your ear, chuckling when you whined in response. “Sex is nothing to be ashamed of,” he continued, nipping at the skin up and down the side of your neck.

“Sex is natural,” he added. “Humans are sexual creatures, Y/N.”

You felt a shiver run up your spine. “You are a sexual creature,” you heard him whisper in your ear. “I’ve seen firsthand what your body can take, sweetheart,” Hongjoong continued, one of his hands moving down to your hip, fingers digging into your skin.

“I’ve explored almost every inch of your body,” the demon whispered, tongue sticking out to lick a long strip up the side of your neck. “Every time I get to have fun, it’s always through one of those infernal incarnations,” he growled, tips of his pointed canines brushing against your pulse point.

“And now I get to have fun as myself only for you to deny me.”

You moaned, feeling him grind against you.

“I can smell it, you know,” he continued, raising his head to look at you. “You reek of sexual desire. I know you want me,” he added. “I know you want this.”

He punctuated his words with another roll of his hips. “You’ve been such a responsive and receptive slut,” he continued when you still couldn’t speak. “You’ve welcomed all my advances. I can change into any one of them again,” he added, the corners of his lips curling into a devilish grin.

“You want that alien again? I can add more tentacles,” he whispered, fingers teasing the top button of your shirt. “Stuff all of your holes at once,” he continued.

You moaned at the idea of seeing Yunho’s face again, the way he growled and pushed you against the floor as he took you from behind.

Hongjoong kept his eyes on your face as he undid the first two buttons on your top. “Or maybe you’d like the naga again. Maybe you’d let me fill that pretty pussy with both cocks this time,” he added, pressing his hard cock against you.

Your shorts were starting to stick to your slick folds, the pressure of his heavy cock against your clit was driving you mad. ‘Say yes,’ your brain kept telling you. ‘Give in.’

You weren’t sure if it was your own brain or if Hongjoong was somehow influencing your thoughts. Could he even do that? You didn’t know the extent of his powers but you knew he could accomplish some incredible visions. Illusions.

‘The Library of Illusion. They’re his illusions.’

You heard Hongjoong chuckle, seemingly having overheard your internal monologue.

“You’re just now piecing that together, baby?” he asked, shaking his head slightly.

“Maybe I should just be myself,” he murmured. “Stop playing with your head.”

You choked out another moan as he pressed his erection into your now soaked shorts. “You’re so fucking wet,” he added. “I bet I’d slip right in.”

You felt another two buttons of your shirt release. “You aren’t exactly stopping me,” he added, moving his hand to the button on your shorts. You glanced down through a heavy lidded gaze. “Joong,” you breathed.

He looked up from your shorts, meeting your gaze. “Joong?” he asked, raising a brow at you. “That’s different,” he continued. “Please,” you whimpered, hips seeking friction against his cock. “Oh little lamb,” Hongjoong said, moving a hand to cup your cheek.

“You’re gonna have to beg better than that.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Please, Hongjoong,” you choked out. “It’s so hot.” The demon tilted his head to the right. “Hot? You want me to help? Want me to cool you off?” You nodded frantically. Hongjoong’s lips parted in a grin, his pointed fangs making your walls clench around nothing.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he added, leaning over you, fingers hesitating at the button of your shorts. “I want…” your voice trailed off as you looked up at him, his glowing golden irises studying your face.

“You have to say it,” he urged, eyes narrowing. “So say it.”

“I want you,” you finally breathed out. “Want everything.”

Hongjoong let out a huff before easily undoing the button of your shorts before finally undoing the last couple buttons on your top. “You want everything? You want my tongue? My mouth? My fingers?”

His eyes darkened before adding “my cock?”

[CONSENT CONTINUES FROM HERE]

You nodded quickly. “Yes, Joong, I want it all,” you whimpered.

Hongjoong let out a deep rumbling growl and slowly tore your shirt off you with a slow and nasty rip sound as he pulled the fabric apart and tossed it aside. You moved your hands to rid yourself of your shorts but he stopped you, pushing your hands above your head. “Keep them there,” he instructed before climbing off the bed.

You could feel how embarrassingly wet you were through your shorts as he stood at the foot of the bed. “You want me to release you?” he asked, one hand wrapping around the post of the footboard. You nodded as you looked at him standing near your feet.

“And you promise you won’t run?”

You nodded again. “I promise,” you breathed out. “Just want you.”

Hongjoong barely touched you but your ankles were suddenly free and he was back between your thighs, kneeling in the same position. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them against your stomach. “I can’t wait to fuck you like this,” he growled, squeezing your thighs.

“Pump you full of cum and watch it leak out of you,” he added.

You moaned, cunt convulsing around nothing at his words. “You want that?” Hongjoong asked,, a hint of amusement to his voice. You managed to whisper out a yes as his hands moved up your sides, fingers skimming your skin.

One of his hands moved up to your neck, lightly squeezing it before you felt his thumb brush over your bottom lip. “Open,” he ordered. You obeyed, parting your lips. Hongjoong pushed his thumb past your open lips, almost groaning when your lips wrapped around him, tongue tasting the pad of his thumb.

“That’s it,” he murmured, watching you. “Open again, pretty girl,” he added. When you did, he pulled his thumb out, replacing it with two fingers, pressing them against your tongue. You felt him grind against you again, pressing your wet shorts against your clit. “Maybe I should remove these,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on your lips wrapped around his fingers.

Without a word, he removed his fingers from your mouth, leaning over to take your lips in a searing kiss. Your thighs instinctively clenched around his waist, legs wrapping around him. Hongjoong parted your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You tasted steel and moaned against his lips.

He pulled back much too soon for your liking but your complaints failed as he started leaving wet kisses down the side of your neck, trailing to your chest. “I’ll stop teasing you,” he murmured, giving you another thrust before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it.

You moaned unrestrained as his other hand moved to knead and massage your other breast. “Joong, please. I need you,” you moaned, back arching. Hongjoong chuckled, the sound muffled against your skin. “Not very patient,” he murmured, letting your nipple fall from his mouth.

“Very well,” he added, scooting back to leave wet, open mouth kisses down your stomach, stopping to nip and bite your skin.

You looked down, meeting his heated gaze as he smirked at you before ducking his head and taking the zipper of your shorts in his teeth, pulling it down and making you gasp, dropping back against the bed.

A thin sheen of sweat had started to cover your body despite losing more and more clothes. You weren’t sure when it had happened but Hongjoong had managed to lose his clothes in the process. The leather pants had been replaced with the black fur you’d seen before.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Hongjoong kissed back up to your navel.

“Oh god,” you moaned, back arching as Hongjoong bit into the skin of your exposed hip, slowly tugging your shorts down. He raised his head slightly, looking up at you through his lashes. “Now that’s just mean,” he murmured.

“Saying his name when I’m right here,” he continued, grinning when your eyes met his. “S-sorry,” you breathed. Hongjoong shook his head, finally pulling your shorts down your thighs and tossing them aside. “I know,” he replied. “It’s just an expression.” His hands slid under your behind as he lowered his mouth.

“But I promise I’ll have you saying my name real soon,” he added with a wink.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before you felt his tongue against your sex, lapping up your essence. “Shit!” you hissed, one hand moving down to comb through his locks.

“That’s not my name either,” he mused before moving his hands, spreading your folds. You tried to bite back but the sudden sensation of his tongue against your clit, the cool metal brushing against the bundle had your mind going blank.

Your thighs threatened to close around his head but he pushed them apart. “Hold them open for me,” he ordered. You moved your hands, grabbing the backs of your thighs and holding them open, leaving his hands free to pull your folds apart again. He gave your clit a couple light licks before spitting on your aching hole.

“What’re you— oh!”

Your words faltered as you felt the metallic tip of Hongjoong’s piercing against your entrance. You moaned as you felt the muscle enter you, squirming against your walls. It wasn’t human. Human tongues weren’t this long. You were briefly reminded of Yunho’s tongue but Hongjoong’s growl and the way he pulled his tongue out of you brought you back from those thoughts.

“Don’t do that,” he growled, making you look up as he hovered over you.

“D-do what?” you whimpered. “Think of other men. I’m right here,” he answered. “Think of only me. Those men aren’t even real. They’re illusions.”

Your mouth acted quicker than your thoughts. “They were real at one point.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed and he was quick to wrap his hand around your throat, holding you against the bed as two of his fingers on the other hand plunged into your wet hole, making you squeal at the sudden intrusion.

“Whose fingers are in your cunt, sweetheart?”

“Y-yours,” you answered. You felt his fingers around your throat squeeze.

“I can’t hear you,” he growled. “Yours are!” you almost shouted.

You let out a moan as he slowly started to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, ignoring the wet sounds as he stopped to curl them against the soft spongy spot inside you. Your back arched, a low moan leaving your lips.

“If you keep thinking of other men when I’m right here, I won’t hesitate to punish you. You’re mine, little lamb. No one else's,” he growled. “Not even the vampires. You’ve always been mine. From the moment you step foot into the Library.”

Your words failed you as your mind went blank, whimpers and moans leaving your lips as Hongjoong’s fingers moved quickly, your arousal no doubt spilling from you and onto the bed. Your hands moved to grab his wrist as he kept a firm hold on your neck. “J-Joong, please, I’m gonna—”

Hongjoong removed his fingers quickly, making you cry out in protest.

Can’t have you come undone just yet, angel,” he said, a hint of amusement to his voice. “I’d rather have you come undone on my cock.”

You tried to follow his movements but his hold on your throat kept you immobilized as he took his cock in his hand. You wanted to see it but he refused to let you move. “You don’t need to see,” he muttered as he stroked himself slowly, coating his cock in your juices.

“It’ll be inside you soon enough.”

You felt him press the tip against your hole and you gasped as he pushed only the head of his cock past your folds. Your entrance stretched to accommodate the size and you knew you were in for a rough time. He was bigger than any of the others you’d taken.

You were dazed out of your thoughts with a light slap against your cheek as Hongjoong pulled the tip of his length out of you, instead resting it against your clit. “I told you not to think about other men when I’m right here,” he growled. “This is your last chance,” he warned.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered as he rutted against you, the weight of his cock pressing down on your clit as he coated the underside of his cock with your wetness.

“I mean it,” he said. “Keep thinking about other men and I won’t let you cum,” he warned. “I’ll fuck that pretty throat of yours and cum down it and not let you cum.”

You whimpered, moving your hips to grind against his cock.

“I’ll—hn— I’ll be good,” you stammered. “I p-promise!”

Hongjoong leaned over, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against your lips as he guided the head of his cock to your waiting hole. “This doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. “You’re in for a long night.”

Your brain emptied as he pushed his cock into you, stretching your walls as your body tried to accommodate his impressive size. He bottomed out quickly, the tip of his dick pressing against your cervix, a small bulge resting under your navel.

“S-so full,” you whimpered, eyes blurring with unshed tears. Hongjoong’s grip on your throat loosened. “You like that?” he chuckled. “You like being split open?”

You nodded, unable to speak as your tears flowed freely. Hongjoong had to resist the urge to slam into you if only to see you cry harder.

He never was good with self control though.

As he pulled back, leaving only the head of his cock inside, you braced yourself for the return but you still weren’t prepared when he snapped his hips forward, the head of his cock hitting your cervix.

“Oh fuck!” you gasped. Hongjoong placed his hand on your stomach, pushing against the bulge that was the head of his cock. You moaned out as he gave you another thrust, and then another, setting a slow but hard pace.

Each thrust had you gasping as you felt his cock hit your cervix and just under your navel each time. “It’s so d-deep,” you choked out in a sob, tears flowing more, staining the sides of your face.

Hongjoong let out a deep growl, his free hand grabbing your hips as he thrust faster, keeping his eyes on your face. The tears spurring him on, he made it his goal to have you screaming, his thrusts increasing by the second as he drove his cock into you repeatedly.

Your walls clenched around him as your thighs shook. “M’gonna cum!” you gasped, your grip on his wrist tightening. “S-stop, stop! I’m gonna cum!” Hongjoong let out a dark chuckle. “I’m in charge here, princess,” he murmured. “You cum when I say so.” You let out a shriek as he slammed into you.

“Hongj-joong!” you sobbed, walls convulsing around his cock as you came, the demon helping you ride out your high before he pulled completely. You had no time to come down from your high as he rolled you onto your stomach, lifting your hips and reentering you from behind.

Your face dropped into the sheets as he resumed the same relentless pace, driving his cock deeper into your pussy, though how he managed to go deeper you weren’t entirely sure.

“I’m not stopping until you’re screaming,” you heard him growl over the sound of his skin hitting yours.

“So you better start screaming if you don’t want this to last all night.”

You felt one of his hands hit your ass, your walls clenching around his girth.

Another smack caused your body to jump.

“J-Joong!” you whimpered, feeling your wetness slowly rolling down the inside of your thighs. Hongjoong glanced down, noticing it got much wetter. “Oh,” he murmured, slowing his hips. “You’re bleeding,” he added.

Your fingers dug into the sheets. “Don’t stop! Please don't stop,” you begged, pushing back against him. Hongjoong shook his head before taking a firm hold on your hips and slamming back into you. “Be careful what you wish for, angel.”

You cried out into the sheets, your voice muffled as your walls clenched around his cock again, cumming with a shriek but he didn’t stop this time. He fucked you through another orgasm. Your back arched as he placed a hand on your back between your shoulder blades and pushed your chest down.

“You seemed to like this position before,” he chuckled. “Stay down,” he added in a growl.

Your nails dug into the sheets as his thrusts sent you hurtling towards another orgasm, walls hugging his cock as you came again. “Scream,” he ordered. “Scream for me.”

He gave you a much harder thrust, the head of his cock pounding into your cervix and making you finally scream into the sheets.

Hongjoong leaned over, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you up, your back pressing against his chest as he moved to grab your throat. “Again,” he hissed, slamming into you and making you scream again, this time unrestrained.

“That’s it,” he groaned, hips never faltering as he fucked you through yet another orgasm. You’d cum more times than you cared to count. Your mind wasn’t in the state to be keeping track. “I’m close,” you heard the demon growl in your ear, his hips hitting your ass with a lewd wet smack as your essence coated your entire ass and inside your thighs.

You were sure you were a mess but couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Gonna cum and fill this ruined pussy. You want that, princess? I've already ruined your pretty pussy. You want me to fill it with my cum?” You moaned as he tightened his hold on your throat. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled breathlessly.

“Open your mouth, slut,” he grunted. You obeyed, parting your lips enough for his fingers to enter your mouth, pressing against your tongue. “Suck,” he growled. You wrapped your lips around him, sucking as his other hand moved down, fingers finding your clit and circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

“So close," he gasped. "I’m gonna fucking fill you. Breed you like a bitch in heat.”

Your walls tightened, fluttering around his cock as you came for the nth time, Hongjoong finally finishing. You moaned against his fingers, spit covering your lips and rolling down your chin as he exploded inside you, cock twitching with each spurt as he emptied himself in your walls, coating them with a heavy load.

You felt it start to seep out of you, rolling down your thighs and no doubt dripping onto the sheet but he wasn’t done. As he continued to pump more of his seed into you, he pulled his fingers out and pushed you over, thrusting into you and forcing his cum further into you.

“You’re going to take all of it,” he growled, fingers digging into your hips, his sharp nails leaving marks. “All of it,” he added, thrusting as he finally emptied the last bit. You moaned loudly against the sheets, feeling impossibly full as he kept his cock buried to the hilt inside you, the cum he’d emptied inside you filling every crevice.

You were sure some of it had managed to seep into your womb. You were incredibly full. “Just like that,” he murmured. “Stay still.”

Your walls clenched, pushing out a small amount of his cum. “If you keep pushing it out,” he growled, looking down at the semen that had trickled out and was rolling down the inside of your thighs.

“I’ll plug you up.”

You moaned, walls clenching involuntarily. Hongjoong clicked his tongue.

You felt him pull part of the way out only to push back in, the base of his cock now thicker. You screamed into the sheets as he forced a knot you knew wasn’t there before into you, plugging your cunt and now keeping everything inside you.

“I warned you,” he said simply, thumbs tracing circles into your skin.

“Full of my cum and my cock,” he murmured. “Now you really are mine,” he added. “No one else can have you.”

You whimpered as he thrust forward, a slight laugh escaping him.

“And now I have all of eternity to breed you over and over again.”

The demon let out a dark chuckle as he snapped the book shut and got up from his seat. He walked over to a shelf with brightly colored books. Seven of them, each with their own special insignia on the spines.

The green book with the stars and moon, the red book with the spider on its web, a gold book with a palace, the silver book with a magnifying glass, the purple book with a dragon, the tan book with the snake, the blue book with a bat, and lastly the book in his hands.

The orange book with a demon mask on the spine.

Hongjoong placed it next to the purple book and looked up at them all.

“Right where you belong,” he said softly, turning away and walking from the shelf.

“No one escapes.”

#cultofdionysusnet #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #series: library of illusion

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thelordofgifs · 25 days

Text

Notes on the Care of the Tormented, ed. Elrond Half-elven

Written for @silmarillionepistolary day 3!

Rating: T

Relationships: Maglor & Maedhros, Maglor & Elrond

Words: 4k

I have hesitated a long time over transcribing this old collection of documents, and having them bound together as a pamphlet; but the library at Imladris is well-understood to be the finest East of the Sea, and I do not wish to deprive it of any lore. A point of pride, perhaps. So I have had two copies made, one for our own collection and one for that of the library at Fornost Erain — for I would not have it said that the Eldar hoard their knowledge, and leave Men to labour in the dark.

The library at Amon Ereb was nothing to marvel at, but it was there, in the uneasy days of my youth, that I first came across these notes. They had been written by Maglor son of Fëanor at varying points over the course of the First Age, and were altogether a rather disorganised collection; but I found myself drawn to them the very first time I read them, for the care that had been taken in their composition, and in their preservation through defeat after defeat and flight after flight. Maglor was no healer, certainly not by the time I knew him: his hands had been bloodied too many times for that gift to have lingered, if ever he had it. But all the same, he paid great attention to the care of Maedhros his brother — there was no other Maedhros would permit to touch him, or speak to him when he had an episode.

It would have been easy to conclude that Maglor did it all on instinct, watching them. So I was struck, on first finding these notes, by how much of his practice he had documented. The sons of Fëanor were all diligent record-keepers — ironic, many would claim, considering how much lore was lost in Menegroth beneath their marauding swords, and again at the Havens of Sirion. But none of them seemed to trust to the infallible memories of the Eldar, judging by the contents of even that much-depleted library at Amon Ereb. Still at times I wondered for whom exactly Maglor had written the notes — I do not doubt that he referred to them often himself, but I could never make out whether he had had any other audience in mind. Did he imagine that Maedhros might survive him, and dwell with another? I know not.

[Keep reading on AO3]

#silmarillion #my fic #maglor #maedhros #elrond #silmarillionepistolary #the caretaker burnout fic! in which maglor is so so hinged

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jselorekeeper · 1 month

Text

Video Summarized

“Am I Retiring from YouTube?” Summarized for people who cannot watch but are anxious right now

1. Jack stated that he is NOT retiring just yet, he wants to eventually just not right now

2. He speaks about how he thought about retiring at the beginning of this year, but he feels as if he isn’t ready to move on. He was struggling with the content, the community, and the algorithm.

3. He talks about his breaks and how the algorithm makes it feel as if he’s failing, such as how “people forgot about him” or not being in others' feeds. Sometimes he felt as if people did not miss him.

4. He has been attempting other styles of videos because he feels as if it’s more fun and effective than doing it in parts.

5. He starts to talk about his Depression and how it affects him mentally which made him want to quit in the first place. His anxiety, depression, and more took a mental toll on his work saying that he feels awful for not doing the things he wants to.

6. He talks about how negative comments have affected him and it was starting to bother him over the years. The comments were slowly chipping away at him and his content.

7. He talks about TOTM, and egos, and the podcast has helped a lot with his content stating that it is a nice break from YouTube itself.

8. He feels as if he has about 2 years left in his system for YouTube, stating that he wants to expand into bigger projects and make things. He eventually wants to write a book, getting more into the creative process.

9. He said he has more things that he was to do within his time left, but overall he hasn’t been happy with doing YouTube for a while.

10. He said he wants to connect with the community more and this year he just wants to try to get a better connection. He just wants to make things that are fun and wanna not have to overthink everything.

#jacksepticeye #lore keeper speaks

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phantomyre · 8 months

Text

Analyzing Vincent's Chamber in Rebirth

Vincent's Chamber as seen in FF7 OG

Vincent's Chamber as seen in Crisis Core Reunion

Vincent's Chamber as seen in Dirge of Cerberus First off-- this is obviously highly speculative, and borderline obsessive, but anyone who knows Squeenix and has done any kind of deep-lore investigation with FF7, you'll know that they like to include a lot of details and symbolism. As such, I think we can glean a few things based on what we see within the 4 seconds of Vincent's reveal. For those who've played FF7 OG, you may immediately notice the 'dungeon' Vincent is meant to be locked in no longer resembles a prison-- but rather a study lounge. Cobwebs, skeletons, chains, etc are all absent. Not only that, it is furnished in such a way that implies someone still lives there. One of the first details we may notice is the ample books strewn about, both half-hazardly stacked around an antique luxury leather chair, and many more by a large bookshelf and others besides. One book in particular is laid open beside on a nearby coffee-table, indicating it was the most recent book of study. Notably, there is a porcelain mug beside the open book, presumably filled with alcohol as there are several liquor bottles nearby. The lantern placed in the center appears to belong to Cloud and Co as the room is already heavily lit by wall lights and candle-sticks. Likely Cloud and Cait ventured into the chamber on their own before the rest of them team showed up, Vincent being awakened by Cloud and Cait as they've fallen beside the coffin. And speaking of coffin...

Not only does Vincent have a Cerberus gun and phone, but now he has a custom Cerberus coffin as well. While we can speculate who might have decorated his coffin, Cerberus is symbolic for Vincent's mindset (Cerberus guards the gates of hell in Greek lore, meaning Vincent is associated to being the 'keeper of hell's gate' and how he has locked himself to his nightmares/past). The fact that now he has a custom coffin implies that it's no longer a temporary piece. Instead, it has become a part of him, if not permanently. Much like his Cerberus gun. Notice how it's also not dusty but very clean, plush on the inside, and even has a pillow of all things. Certainly doesn't look to be something a self-deprecating, self-loathing individual would sleep in. Moving on to the other parts of the room... One of the more interesting pieces of furniture in the room is the wood stove placed conveniently close to Vincent's coffin and the coffee table (no, that is not a TV). It looks as though Vincent has decided to forego suffering the chill of the damp cold basement, this time-- a stark contrast to the overall environment he had previously been placed in.

Once we get a better view of the other side of the room, the room is notably very warm in terms of color-tone, juxtaposed to the cold tones of the outside of the chambers. Might this be a type of metaphor for how Vincent appears cold on the outside yet is warm on the inside? What is also strange is that there appears to be yet another basement just outside of Vincent's chamber as it goes even deeper into the basement. This implies that Vincent is not locked in the deepest part of the basement as was once assumed. Once again, the room is clear of dust and otherwise looks fairly clean. Yet again implying someone has been active within the room. Looking towards the back, the doors are now double-doors as opposed to the single dungeon-style door. Last but not least-- Vincent himself is different. As seen in the image above, and as many have noted, Vincent's hair is no longer unkempt or barbed. As a matter of fact, it is similarly styled to Cloud's hair but more importantly, looks pretty soft for being asleep for almost 30 years. SE has progressively been adding barbs to Vincent's hair, but this time around, he is completely devoid of Chaos-aesthetics. His cloak is no longer torn in exaggerated forms, as well, though it still looks very worn on the hem. Some minor details are that his buckles have been rearranged as seen on his thigh and waist (thankgoodness they kept the tiny DoC waist and slutty hips). The buckles on his leather 'shirt' are all arranged on the front instead of off to the side. He also appears to have something on his left thigh, though it is extremely hard to tell. His gauntlet looks slightly altered and his sabatons look more functional in terms of movement, though keeping the overall iconic design. The biggest alteration of his attire are the grieves attached to his shins which look as though they will provide a lot more protection (and damage) while performing melee and close-range combat. Over-all, Vincent looks a lot more like a medieval knight than ever before.

CONCLUSION: What's all of this tell us, you might ask...? Of course it could all be merely over-analyzing. However, I think what is being presented to us is a visual representation of who this version of Vincent really is. It doesn't look like he has been merely sleeping in his coffin for the past 20-30 years and condemning himself to eternal torment. Unless the room is being regularly used by someone else, it appears as though Vincent actually been fairly active, albeit behind closed doors. Everything from the books, the wine, the layout, etc. all seems to indicate we may no longer be dealing with a Vincent who only wanted to seal himself away in his despair-- but rather someone who is actively searching for answers. The Vincent we meet in Rebirth may no longer be the ultra 'emo' character fans have always known him to be. Something has changed about Vincent. And with the way things are going in the Remake trilogy, I don't think anyone should be surprised at this point. Because if there's anyone outside of Sephiroth and Aerith (and now Red) who ought to have some knowledge of what's taking place-- it should be Vincent. Edit: One story-point I neglected to note--- if Vincent has indeed been delving into the archives of Shinra Manor, and by default the library, then we might expect him to have some working knowledge of Omega/Chaos, and the Protomateria already. This might be expected to an extent, given what we've already seen in Remake. And if anything else... it was just a fun silly fan-speculation.

#vincent valentine #final fantasy #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy 7 rebirth #ffvii rebirth #ffvii #vincent musings

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y-rhywbeth2 · 4 months

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Gods & Clergy: Shar

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

And back to collecting lore on the evil deities! There's... a lot of information on Shar, so honestly this isn't even all of it just most(?) of it. Most of it isn't relevant anyway...

Overview: What if depression was a religion?

Clergy: If you don't have shit like depression and cptsd you're about to, courtesy of the Nightsinger! Society? Burn it all!

Nightcloaks / Nightbringers: Memory wiping. Whips. Making creepy man-shaped things of pure darkness.

Shar: Don't look her in the eye. Wear earplugs when she speaks. Don't let her kiss you. Avoid the talking severed heads and the tentacles... actually, just avoid this ancient eldritch horror altogether.

"Reveal secrets only to fellow members of the faithful. Never follow hope or turn to promises of success. Quench the light of the moon whenever you find it, and hide from it when you cannot prevail. The dark is a time to act, not wait. It is forbidden to strive to better your lot in life or to plan ahead except when directly overseen by the faithful of the Dark Deity. Consorting with the faithful of good deities is a sin except in business dealings or to corrupt them from their beliefs. Obey ranking clergy unless it would result in your own death." "Darkness is your cloak and your spur to action. Strike down the moon and those who serve it, and work against laws and law keepers, rulers and the powerful, by corrupting them and sewing dissension. Weave discord through secrets and rumours and falsehoods, so that all that is now mighty shall in time be swept away, and all that will still remain is in the darkness of Shar. Work in secret when necessary, obey your superiors in the Night Church without question or defiance, and give your life when Shar deems it needful, for you will reap her dark reward." - Shar's Dogma

The interesting thing about Shar, for all her intrinsic hatred of existence, is that she needs people - specifically "she feeds on [people's] suffering." Literally. She eats it. When she consumes their grief and misery, the sudden void of negative emotion causes a temporary surge of euphoria. Due to this relief, many people turn to "Shar's embrace."

Sharrans believe that by following Shar faithfully they will eventually reach an enlightened state beyond all suffering, however all that happens is that they're exposed to suffering and retraumatised again and again until they become resigned to and desensitised to it - their own and others'. Sharrans are much less useful to their goddess if they truly move beyond suffering, and instead the process is simply a cycle of abuse and depression as she farms them for sustenance and power.

As per the teachings: life is inane and existence was a mistake all are cursed to suffer because of Selûne's stupidity. All love withers and dies; you are alone, and always will be. This misery is inherent and inescapable, and it's better to embrace this fact than to hurt yourself by being stupid enough to feel love for others or hope for better.

All rulers and hierarchies are corrupt, according to Sharran doctrine, and everybody should be free to live their lives as they wish free of the laws and "morality" decided for them by others.

Everything that exists deserves to perish, and the right thing to do is to help the entropic process along.

Shar is ever-present, and wanders through the dreams of mortals, prodding at their hidden pains and whispering suggestions to them on how to act upon them. She offers the allure of relief to the poor, the lonely and ostracised, the grieving, the mentally ill... Victims of abuse often turn to her for relief and vengeance. On the every day level, people who need to work or travel at night or in the dark make offerings to her to placate her.

A lay worshipper is referred to as a Dark Follower. Sharrans are forbidden to hope, plan ahead or attempt to improve their miserable lives unless ordered to by the clergy, as part of Shar's design. They must not speak out against a priest, or interrupt any of their rituals and prayers for any reason. Lay worshippers must prove their loyalty and devotion by carrying out one crime or deed under the order of the clergy at least once a year, and try to bring others into the fold. They are strictly forbidden to interact with followers of good aligned deities (so you know stay away from people who follow, like, Selûne, who encourages comforting the lonely and making welcoming spaces for the ostracised; Lliira, who encourages experiencing joy; Lathander, with his thing about optimism and new beginnings... Don't want them hanging out with those people...)

If you have no need of Shar's "aid" then her clergy are at hand to fix that for you.

The members of the Night Church are known collectively as Darshars by outsiders, but they would refer to themselves as Martyrs. They have forfeit their lives to Shar in order to serve her, and know that she will eventually come to claim her due. They're generally under no delusion regarding the fact that their deaths are likely to come sooner rather than later, and Shar's tendency to discard her most powerful, loyal and favoured servants on a whim is well known - for all should experience the loss.

When addressing each other, Darshars address equal and lower ranks as "Brother/Sister/Sibling Night," and their superiors as "Mother/Father Night."

Novices of the faith are called Adepts of the Night. Full priests are Watchers. Hands of Shar have proven themselves in battle, and are placed in charge of several cells. A Darklord or Darklady is a region's senior priest, and sets policy for the church in their area. Nightseers oversee the activities of all Sharrans in a realm (a country). The Flames of Darkness are the highest ranking priests, answering directly to Shar. The standard training of the clergy usually shows, mechanically, through multiclassing as a rogue.

To become a Darshar, each priest much prove themselves by committing some terrible deed or other in Shar's name, after which the goddess will bestow a new name upon them. The nature of the deed and the name is called one's Own Secret.

Unlike lay worshippers, clergy are permitted to seek wealth and power, although it comes with the awareness that these things will not last. "If she uses [powerful individuals] as her tools now, there will come a day when she destroys them utterly, in favor of someone much weaker and very different. For that is the way of Shar. In her words, “Out of the darkness we all come, and to the darkness we all return. Some swifter than others, and many not swiftly enough.”

The senior clergy preach of Shar's "Dark Reward" - the raising of a dead Sharran as undead under the control of the clergy. Typically mindless undead such as zombies and skeletons. If Shar prizes the fallen individual's skills enough then she will actually resurrect them fully, augmented with her power. Such priests are the Shadowed, who have abilities such as turning invisible or into mist. They always bear a mark of Shar's corruption however; their eyes - including the sclera - are pitch black, and they can speak only in hoarse, cold whispers. One of their hands gnarls into a black talon. The rest of her priesthood views them with terror.

Darshars keep their hair long in homage to Shar (whose long hair is iconic). It's usually kept under a black skullcap, but women with naturally dark hair are permitted to forgo the cap because their hair is considered sacred to Shar. Black and purple are worn extensively, as are full body black cloaks and robes.

The black cloaks are called nightcloaks, which are enchanted to enable flight and mute ambient sound when the wearer wills it.

At night, some clergy let their hair down and walk the night, wearing nothing but their nightcloaks and their hair. They leave no barriers between themselves and the darkness that is their goddess.

Some priests wear enchanted wigs, woven into braids that can move and carry things (such as daggers), much like Shar's own hair is said to be animate.

Clerics who disappoint Shar/their superiors are forced to undergo thei penance surrounded by light - "the darkness if for those who deserve it."

Darshars are tasked with making society as miserable to live in as possible, so that more will feel loss and be brought into Shar's Embrace seeking peace. They corrupt the powerful, kill those who can't be corrupted and ferment rebellion, and murder people whose work is improving people's lives. They support thieves guilds and criminal organisations that make civilisation more unsafe and untrustworthy. They do generally avoid war and mass bloodshed, however. Shar requires converts/cattle, and it's hard to do that when they're all dead. Also murdering Selûnites and destroying their bases of worship wherever you can; can't forget that.

When a Darshar commits a murder, they are to ensure that the victim is aware that they died in Shar's name. Provided that this murder isn't being committed to foment strife and chaos by pinning it on somebody else, the Darshar will write Shar's name somewhere nearby with the victim's blood.

They're also to help others avenge slights, and publicise such stories, so that the desperate will turn to the Night Church for justice and vengeance and they do their best to present themselves as the superior option to the god of vengeance, Hoar.

They are to do all of this in utter secrecy, it should never be obvious to others who and what is behind these events. Often Sharran cells will found secret, non-Sharran cabals to do their dirty work for them. Hiring adventurers to commit crimes for them is another way. In order to form these cabals, Sharrans often run secret societies, hedonistic social clubs and false cults. They also maintain ties thieves guilds

Unlike the churches of other evil deities, the Night Church is often outlawed simply because they fundamentally won't stop disrupting society. Occasionally, the church will agree to follow the laws and keep their destruction of people's mental health to manageable, more one-on-one levels, and are allowed to build temples and worship. They have such a temple in Silverymoon, which must begrudgingly co-exist in public with the Selûnites there. Sharran worship is also open in Calaunt, Mulmaster, Scornubel, Sembia and Westgate.

Generally speaking though, the church is happier to remain underground where they can do the work they truly "need" to. The Night Church is explicitly illegal in Waterdeep, Baldur's Gate, Amn, and the entirety of the Dales and Cormyr.

They have a complex hierarchy; they work in cells, and every member has a direct superior they answer to. Multiple cells may be active in the area, and while they may know each other and sometimes lend aid, they don't work together or maintain connections to prevent attempts to crack down on Sharran activity from taking down every cell in the area. Nobody knows the true name of their co-conspirators or their leaders, and many of them die in their attempts to subvert society (getting executed for their crimes is a common way to go).

There are no holy days on the Sharran calendar, except for the Feast of the Moon, which they call the Rising of the Dark. Sharrans gather together for a blood sacrifice, and the lay worshippers are told of the plots and aims they are expected to aid in the coming winter.

The most important daily ritual is Nightfall, held every night. There is a brief payer, sometimes in the form of a ritual dance and sometimes involving a sermon. There is a feast and everybody begins dancing (or joins in, if one already started). If one cannot attend group prayer, then the worshipper must dance alone in Shar's honour, wherever they are. Lay worshippers must also either perform a crime or act of cruelty or report one to the congregation. Nights where the moon is not visible are called the Coming of the Lady and the entire congregation is set to task carrying out acts of vengeance and cruelty in Shar's name.

The Kiss of the Lady is the most important ritual, traditionally declared at the whims of the leading priests in the Temple of Old Night in Calimport (Old Night is the oldest of Shar's temples, built in -373 DR). Shar's worshippers engage in a night-long revel of murder, chaos, horror and cruelty ending in a celebratory feast at daybreak.

Representations of Shar in religious art (typically found in temples) show either a black sphere outlined in magically animated purple flames; or depict her as a smiling human woman with sweeping raven-black hair dressed in swirling black clothes. Her eyes are large, with the irises and sclera being solid purple around black pupils. Her temples are usually built under what appear to be legitimate businesses or private residences.

Those of the clergy chosen by Shar to serve her personally are the Nightcloaks, also called Nightbringers.

They can create supernatural darkness in their surroundings that extinguishes all light

Cause temporary light blindness in others

Erase the memories of the last few minutes from the minds of those around them

Cause nightmares

They can conjure doors made of pure darkness and step through, which makes them seem to have teleported (although they've only turned invisible)

They can cast a veil of illusion magic over their surroundings, making them appear totally different (tailored to whatever the priest wants them to look like)

They are a tiny bit more powerful, physically, while in the darkness, but are a tiny bit weaker when standing in the light of a full moon.

They can wrap darkness around themselves, or another, which fully obscures their features and serves as a minor form of armour (including against magic and psionics). They can see perfectly through the darkness, but effects that require eye-contact can't affect them. If cast on an undead being then they're immune to a cleric's turning ability.

They can create a whip of flickering darkness. The strike of the whip does damage and has the same effect as turning on Undead struck. Contact causes pain so unbearable it may cause seizures. The whip passes through inanimate matter harmlessly, and can't be used to tie people up.

Darkness can be moulded into something vaguely human-shaped under the control of the priest. It levitates in the air and suffocates all sources of light it touches. The priest can vaguely "see" through it if they choose.

They can fire a beam of pure darkness from their outstretched hand, which passes through inanimate matter and non-living beings but causes suffocating cold and pain to the living it strikes. The target it overwhelmed, and struck with a supernatural silencing effect for up to four minutes.

The Lady of Loss is a Neutral Evil deity, and her domain has been in different places over the years. Originally her realm, the Palace of Loss, resided in the Grey Wastes of Hades and later moved into the Plane of Shadow (aka the Shadowfell) where it was known as the Palace of Night. After the Plane of Shadow moved closer to the material world during the Spellplague she moved to the Tower of Night, which was in the Astral Plane. Considering that 5e has mostly reversed all of 4e's changes, she has presumably returned to the Palace situated in either the Shadowfell or the Grey Wastes.

Shar is described as a "deeply twisted and perverse being of endless petty hatred and jealousy. [...] She revels in the concealed, in that which is hidden, never to be revealed."

Shar is omnipresent, she is the darkness and she is everywhere. She is aware of every single person, object and action that takes place in the darkness.

Another deity, Ibrandul god of caverns, the Underdark and other dark places within the earth. She felt that this was encroaching on her turf, and she murdered him for the offense and took his portfolio and his worshippers during the Time of Troubles. Most of his followers were unaware of this, because Shar enjoys deception and simply presented herself to them as Ibrandul. She usually used them to attack Selûne's followers without drawing attention to her main church. (As of the Second Sundering Ibrandul is... probably alive again, but for all anyone knows it's still Shar pretending to be him)

Shar has two avatars:

The first is the Nightsinger: a 12ft tall woman wearing a mask made of the feathers of every type, trailing away into the cowl of her cloak. The cloak becomes increasingly intangible as it merges into the nearby darkness. She is constantly singing softly, even when she speaks, and her song feels hauntingly beautiful - and engenders a feelings of tragedy and grief. She can manifest supernatural darkness in her surroundings at will. Her song drains away memory and experience (in mechanics, she drains character levels and inflict the feeblemind spell). Listening to it may cause one to experience an unearthly chill (which inflicts cold damage) and can even cause listeners to drop dead on the spot. -

As the Dark Dancer Shar stands at 7ft tall, and appears as though the night sky has been moulded into the shape of a human woman. Her skin is jet black and glitters with stars. Her eyes are just as dark, and her gaze is both hypnotic and capable of enchanting those who meet it. If she kisses a mortal she places a magical compulsion on them - if they surrender to it they will become her loyal servant, and if they chose to resist the spell will kill them (this is an active choice for the victim - surrender or die). The spell can only be removed by rewriting reality with a wish spell so that it never happened, and the victim is fully prepared to die for Shar.

Shar's hair is prehensile, and moves at her bidding while ignoring the laws of physics (gravity and the wind are irrelevant). She hisses and speaks softly, never raising her voice, even in anger.

Her lesser manifestations involve tendrils of pitch darkness forming where they shouldn't be able to. They writhe, curl and swirl in constant movement, and a nimbus of glowing purple surrounds them. Sometimes one can see a glowing purple eye at the heart of the dark staring at them, but even when the eye isn't visible one can feel a presence within the darkness watching. In some stories, the darkness that blankets the world is described as Shar's hair falling over it. Presumably these are the individual strands. When a tendril touches one of her followers she can transmit her thoughts into their head - sometimes these are instructions or advice, and sometimes she reaches into their minds and numbs their ability to feel pain. She never heals their physical injuries, only allows them to ignore their suffering until they succeed or collapse/drop dead from the damage.

Her messengers take the form of these tentacles and other, more alien, shadow monsters.

Another fun manifestation Shar enjoys is severed human heads that fly through the darkness at night. They fly silently through the darkness, and Shar sees through their eyes, hears through their ears and occasionally speaks through them.

Shar hates all the other gods (especially her sister, and the sun god Lathander (and Amaunator before him)). She has tolerated an alliance with Myrkul, worked with Cyric to cause chaos, and Talona plays the sycophant to her in the hopes that Shar will help her kill Loviatar one day.

In response to the formation of Mystryl's Weave, during the early days of creation, Shar studied it for a while, eventually creating her own form of it - the Shadow Weave (called the Dark Lady's Weave by her followers). Where the Weave forms the tapestry of reality, the Shadow Weave fills the negative space of nonexistence between the gaps. To utilise her Weave "safely", one must be a follower of Shar or have their patron deity request her permission on their behalf. One deity she works with frequently in "lending" her Weave is the drow god Vhaeraun. One who attempts to use the Shadow Weave without her permission will lose part of themself - and it's already pretty good at having horrible side effects and destroying your sanity. It works well for spells that corrupt, destroy, drain life and smother the senses, but is less useful for effects that create.

Shar hopes to kill Mystra and supplant the original Weave so that she will be the only source of power for mages on Toril. Unlike Mystra, she places no restrictions on its use.

Shar and Selûne were twin halves of the primordial Two-Faced Goddess born shortly after the birth of the universe. There was no time or space, only a void containing themselves, the Overgod Ao, and shadowy beings known as the Shadevari.

Together they created the planetary bodies of the solar system, including the Earthmother, Chauntea.

When Chauntea begged for warmth to nurture life upon her, the Two-Faced goddess experienced conflicting desire for the first time. Selûne was willing to grant the Earthmother her wish, but for Shar, the very concept was a horrifying antithesis to her very being.

The argument between the two spawned the concepts (and gods) of destruction; such as war, disease and death/murder. Eventually, Selûne reached into the Elemental Plane of Fire and drew a portion of it into Realmspace, and fashioned it into the sun - a process that burned her.

Shar's rage doubled, and she began to snuff out every light she could find in the universe, causing Selûne to tear out a part of her own essence and fashion it into a weapon that she threw at Shar in defence of the new-born life of Realmspace. This portion of Selûne passed through Shar and formed itself into the Weave - the goddess Mystryl (who would one day be called Mystra). Mystryl sided with Selûne, and Shar was forced to concede bitter defeat now that she was utterly outnumbered, and swore revenge against all of them.

Shar retreated into the dark to recover, and found allies amongst the Shadevari, who also shared her resentment at having light and life brought into the previously dark and silent universe.

This battle has left Selûne permanently weakened, and her strength waxes and wanes much like the phases of the moon. The two sisters continue their argument - and Shar is boldest when her sister is at her weakest.

#As always with the long posts I hope this is coherent #Honestly I hear evil goddess with prehensile hair made of darkness and I remember Eris from that animated Sinbad film...#shar's relevant enough to give the game's main tag I think #shadowheart #dark justiciar shadowheart #bg3

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clvric · 1 year

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ask me and eav about starborne lore-

#ooc .#boo speaks .#( i've got new followers and people don't know much about the SB universe #so let's fucking go i'm the official lore keeper )

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kcwriter-blog · 3 months

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Another Take on Solas' Conversation About the Dalish and Other Things

I know I’m preaching to the choir, but I’ve been seeing enough negative takes on Solavellan and Solasmancers in general on my dash that I feel the need to vent a little. I realize that most negative takes boil down to “I hate this ship and there is something very wrong with you if you like it” and I mostly ignore them but this time I have a few thoughts to share under the cut.

As far as I can tell, the dislike starts with the conversation between Solas and the Inquisitor about the Dalish. Apparently, this comes off as condescending? I’m pretty sure the people that use that word don’t know what it means. The way Vivienne speaks to the Inquisitor is condescending. Solas is just angry and bitter.

If he were being condescending, the conversation would be more along the lines of “My dear, I understand that having grown up among the Dalish, you are going to be a bit biased, but really you can’t possibly believe that the Dalish know everything there is to know about their history.” Condescension is being simultaneously polite and catty. It’s The Game.

Back to the conversation. Solas tells Lavellan on the way to the Temple of Ashes that his dealings with the Dalish did not go well. He tried to tell them about their history, they didn’t like what he had to say because it contradicted their beliefs, and they tossed him out on his “flat” ears. He also says that the Dalish did not believe he was one of them.

He’s understandably bitter but not entirely for the reasons we think. Yes, part of it is about ego, but mostly it’s about how closed-minded the Dalish are. Solas hates closed mindedness. He values curiosity and he is willing to debate ideas. He went to the Dalish because as the self-proclaimed keepers of elvish lore and the people searching to reclaim their lost history, he thought they would not only listen but be excited to learn more. They weren’t.

When Lavellan asks about his views on elven culture, he lashes out. Not because he thinks she’s stupid but because he expects her to be as closed-minded as the Dalish he has already met.

Lavellan for her part can react in several different ways. People that don’t like the romance assume that the top option where she calls him ha’ren is her agreeing with him. It isn’t.

I used to work in human resources back in the dinosaur age. My job was to listen to employee complaints and keep them from suing the company. I was taught how to make an employee think I was on their side without actually agreeing with them. That’s what I think the top response is. She needs his expertise. She needs him to be on her side. Antagonizing him doesn’t help her so she decides to diffuse the situation.

She addresses him respectfully. Then she says, “If the Dalish have done you a disservice.” She isn’t saying, “Yeah dude they were jerks.” She is saying If (a conditional) which roughly translates to “I wasn’t there. I don’t know what happened, but you seem pretty upset.” She isn’t agreeing just acknowledging his feelings.

She continues with “I would make that right.” She knows he’s upset because they didn’t listen to him. It costs her nothing to say, “I’m willing to listen and keep an open mind.” That’s all she is saying. She doesn’t say she is going to believe him. She is not going to go out among the Dalish and preach the gospel of Solas. She’s just willing to listen.

She then turns it back on him. She asks a question. “What course would you set for them?” Again, she’s not agreeing with him. She’s simply asking him to stop bitching and figure out how the Dalish could do what he is suggesting.

The end result is that Solas apologizes, recognizes that there isn’t a way for the Dalish to do what he wants them to do and settles down. Is he still salty? Sure. He also recognizes he shouldn’t take that out on Lavellan.

Most of Solas’ conversations with Lavellan run along the same lines. He tells her about the pre-Veil world, she says “It sounds like it would be wonderful.” Again, not agreeing that it was, just that the way he describes it sounds wonderful. There are a lot of other examples.

Basically, Lavellan is smart and canny. She can meet Solas as an equal on his own ground. She is willing to admit he knows stuff she doesn’t and to take his advice if it seems sound. She doesn’t have to, and yeah, he can be salty about that, but the only reason we don’t know if your other advisors disapprove of you disagreeing with them is that their approval system is hidden.

You can disagree with him and still gain enough approval to trigger the romance etc. All you have to do is ask questions, keep an open mind, help other people and be merciful when you sit in judgement. It’s not that hard.

I’ve heard it said that he treats her like a child who doesn’t know anything. Hello? Is there another Fade expert in the house? Does your Lavellan know everything there is to know about The Fade, spirits and demons? No. No more than she knows about spying, the nobility or directing an army. No one thinks what Cullen tells the Inquisitor is condescending or treating her like she is a child or an idiot. Also Solas does know a lot of things she doesn‘t because he was there. He is sharing that info. He won’t share it if you don’t ask him questions about it.

Another charge. Solas is cold. He is certainly aloof but in his post-Fade kiss conversation with Lavellan he is almost playful. He is concerned about where it might lead but he is almost happy. He admits he isn’t usually thrown by things that happen in dreams, but he is “reasonably certain we are awake, now and he would enjoy talking.” That’s not someone cold and aloof. That is someone reaching out.

Another charge. Solas makes Lavellan chase him. Nope. As attracted as Solas is to Lavellan he would much rather she focus her attentions elsewhere. That’s why he asks for time to think. He’s hoping she will wander off and flirt with someone else. Lavellan drives the relationship. He gives in against his better judgement. It isn’t a game to him.

Another comment is that you have to work hard and break down a lot of barriers to romance him. Um, yes? He is constantly saying he has trust issues. If Lavellan wants to pursue a relationship knowing that, then she only has herself to blame for the outcome.

I’ll just end by saying I was in a truly toxic, emotionally abusive relationship. Not the kind of relationship where you get a drink with friends and say “Yeah he was totally toxic.” The kind of relationship where you need professional therapy to deal with it. If anyone is going to be triggered by that romance it would be me. I’m not. I know what it is like to be condescended to, to have someone constantly say or imply that you are incompetent and worthless. Solas doesn’t do those things. He is impressed by her, he admires her, he thinks she is competent enough to go to when he needs help. He tells her that. Trust me, an emotional abuser does none of those things.

Anyway, thanks for listening.

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12pt-times-new-roman · 3 months

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moon people? moon people.

This recap reminded me that Orym's deal with Morri didn't specify which return trip from the moon it applied to, nor how many. He just said "return from the moon alive."

The locals here are rotund and short, tree-trunk like limbs, and a short but elephantine nose; they have two smaller arms on their sternum that are more suited for delicate tasks. They appear fearful of the Emperium and its agents. They call Exandrians "dreamers" -- they themselves don't dream (or they "have been told" that they don't), but they share dreams with Exandrians, and learned common this way.

Ruidian natives are called Bormodo; at a young age, they bond with a seita, a kind of lizard-imp companion that has a symbiotic relationship with them.

Liam referencing "All Quiet on the Western Front" is definitely not inspiring confidence here--

Ruidus' capitol city (or the capitol of the Emperium) is called Kreviris.

Wuukors are those many-horned bison things. Avadons are the headless moon dogs, and were used for hunting before being used as war-mounts.

The "weave-minds" are the masters of the Emperium, and are what connects them, the Emperium, and apparently Ruidus itself to Predathos ("the One Who Sleeps"). They're also the ones who grant Bormodos the ability to share dreams with Exandrians.

Dono takes them to meet one of the elders of the town/outpost (Razora), Barthi. They immediately ask him about massive amounts of lore, so let's go!

The bormodos are taught that they don't dream, and to them it's as lonely as it is beautiful that their own life experiences are never reflected in the dreams they share. Exandria is a folktale for them, something they speak of in hushed voices around the campfire.

The Emperium has been on Ruidus for well over five hundred years.

As for the creation of Ruidus, the bormodo's creation myth is that they were carved from the rock of the moon by Predathos and then shaped in the image of their dreams. Any writings that existed have been destroyed by the weave-minds.

Up until the bridge was created, the bormodos saw Exandria as their afterlife, the place they would eventually go to after death; the creation of the bridge, which allowed dreamers to walk on Ruidus, has caused a crisis of faith. Their belief is that their dreams are promises of being able to step away from the harsh lands of Ruidus.

The Weave-Mind is a council of old and powerful reiloran mystics who act as a conduit to the One Who Sleeps. They're the ones who trigger the flares of Ruidus, who control the capitol city, who tell the Ruidians the designs they must follow and kill those who dissent. It's unclear whether the Weave-Mind came when the Emperium did, but it's likely.

Predathos is also known as "the beating heart," "the dream-keeper," "the one who sleeps," and other names, but no one is allowed to speak its true name aloud. It is said to sleep in the heart of Ruidus.

These outposts were once sovereign villages that were overtaken by the Emperium and now produce materials for them.

The reilorans are another native people of Ruidus, and have been here for as long as their history tells. There are many other people who live throughout the varying layers of Ruidus -- and it is a layered place, with people living in its crust. That's where most of the food comes from: subterranean fungal networks and mushroom farming. The only available entrances to the network are in the capitol; others were collapsed by the Emperium.

The Dominion of Cruth is the military division of the Emperium, and many reilorans are trained there. It has its own governance structure.

Basically everything around here has Emperial guard on watch, and escorts are required when traveling through the city. Anyone caught trespassing is thrown into prison or worse.

Ever since Ruidus got tethered to Exandria, all the weird stuff these guys have noticed involves things or people being brought through the beam. Also, Exandria ("the Blue Promise") has stopped turning. But that's....... it. And all this does is raise more questions for me about how and why and whence the absolute FUCK Ruidus' planet-equivalent gravity comes from.

Out on the plains, bane-worms are a problem.

The Weave-Mind sent the Will-master Admuda to exert their influence over this village; she's essentially a reiloran captain of the guard, and works in the Dominion of Cruth. They did this because the Weave-Mind is gearing up for some kind of big event, and they needed the villages to start tripling their output of food, supplies, armor, and materials.

They also did it to suppress the Volition: a generational resistance force that's fighting against the Emperium, who have been more frequently launching attacks on and under the capitol. Barthi gives them the name of a reformed shrike, Zesh, who works with the resistance, who should be passing through soon hidden within an Emperium caravan.

Barthi has seen Ludinus and Otohan, but hasn't talked to them; they came through during the initial wave of dreamers who came through, when the beam first appeared. He hasn't seen Ira, though.

Bormodos see Catha as a silver twin to Ruidus -- some see it as where the good dreams go to live, others as where the bad dreams turn to dust, and others as what might happen if they stray too far.

Ruidian flares are considered "beats" of the heart of the One Who Sleeps. The entire landscape alights with a blinding red hue, and a euphoric dream washes over everyone there: it's not experiential, but spiritual. Like connection, all loneliness cast away for a moment. Not connection to a specific thing or person, just connection as a concept -- connection as a delusion.

Confirmed: bormodos do indeed have sex.

They do not, however, communicate with the gods. They've seen the symbols and such in dreams, but to them, "[Exandrian] interpretation of miracles is beautiful" -- Exandrian religion is the mythology of the dreamers.

As one gets closer to the Weave-Mind, who are based in the capitol, it gets "more difficult to deceive."

Bormodos don't have innate psychic abilities, which creates a massive power imbalance between them and an authoritarian government that does have innate them. the implications of being ruled by an oppressive government that has psychic powers while you yourself can do nothing to prevent or avoid that psychic link is, frankly, a terrifying thought and I will be chewing on it for a while

Just as the Bells Hells are debating whether or not to join the caravan or take off into the plains, said caravan (of Emperium dragging materials from the bridge landing site to the capitol, which contains Zesh the Volition Spy) arrives at the outskirts of the village.

HEY! sending works on the moon! Imogen sends a message to Zesh, and because they are beyond the leylines, it works. "I do not know who you are, or what you want with Barthi. I'm just here to do some business."

Shortly afterward, Will-master Admuda arrives at the door-- and to break!

They try to stealth and miserably fail. Chetney found the door to the basement, but Admuda does notice them, and -- on a successful save against FCG's fast friends spell -- we enter initiative.

"I didn't ask how close they were, I said I cast fireball!" Uh oh

After the fireball from Laudna, some of the Ruby Vanguard members attacking them run away -- but one, young, no more than 16 years old, becomes exalted in the middle of this battle.

Laudna: "did I do a bad?" everyone, simultaneously: "noooo!" the fucking hypocrisy--

As the boy (because he is. he is a boy. he is sixteen.) becomes exalted and casts telekinesis. Both Fearne and Imogen feel his exaltation, and feels that he "comes online" in this network of Ruidisborn.

Ashton update: As a reaction, Ashton can use erratic revenge, causing a random (1d4) effect to occur when they take damage. One of these things is space run, which reduces the amount of damage they take. Another of these things is presumably the thing that causes the attacker to make another attack against themself.

(possible Ashton update? Talisein mentioned "taking a defensive stance" at the end of Ashton's turn, when they hadn't used their bonus action yet. It's possible that path of chaos barbarians get the defense action as a bonus action like monks do.)

On the Will-master's turn, his eyes turn white, and every resident of the village's eyes do the same.

Ashton rage build update: When the gravity build is active, Ashton can't be pushed, pulled, or moved by force.

When hit with an attack, Amuda can use a reaction to use the "human shield" ability to cause one of the villagers around him to take the hit instead. This should tell you everything you need to know about how the Emperium operates. (It's not a reaction; as long as there are "human shields" within range of Athuda, he can roll against a DC, and if he succeeds they will take the blow for him.)

Orym's eyes go a deep, deep green color, almost like druidcraft, and he casts hex on Amuda -- which confirms that he did indeed get 2 feats from the latest levelup, and took the fey-touched feat. However, Orym is dealing nonlethal damage, so when Amuda uses another human shield that nonlethal damage applies to them.

Some Vanguard members also have the mind blur ability, which causes them to vanish from the sight of an attacker.

Ashton is a full-on Street Fighter protagonist as they knock Amuda unconscious and away 15 feet.

Possible thralls of the Will-master: *confused now that their leader is unconscious.* Imogen, immediately: "Kill them!"

When Fearne's fire emperor shard is active, she gets some amount of fire damage added to all damage she deals.

FCG update: FCG has a secondary spellcasting method, which uses a different ability score than WIS to cast. (??)

The commotion caused a stampede among the herd animals, and Ashton picks up a handful of locals and uses themself as a literal fucking meat shield (Talisein literally said this) to prevent villagers from getting hurt in the fray.

But Fearne is out here sniping the fleeing Vanguard members.

(For the record, Imogen has been completely out of commission for this entire fight. As a cloud, she sees that there are people running toward the village, trying to either join or report on the skirmish.)

FCG, alongside another reiloran figure from whom they may have just garnered loyalty, uses stone shape to conjure a ramp to shield both themself and the dude from the stampede. Orym does something similar, to knock another opponent unconscious -- and combat ends.

Everyone in danger is either situated in a safe space or is out of the way. The cattle rush through, but everyone dodges out of the way as they run through.

This is still a very intense moment, as they're waiting for something to happen. Barthi asks what they need to do to help clean up -- Fearne starts dragging bodies into the basement, into a hidey-hole -- they agree that the chaos was caused not by them but by a stampede. They pull the bodies back into the domain of the Elder, and we end the episode.

#critical role #note watches c3 #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog #long post

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imakemywings · 9 months

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Analysis of Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth

The Athrabeth is one of those things which spawns endless fandom discussion, but a lot of it seems to misunderstand what's going on in Andreth and Finrod's discussion, which is understandable. There's a lot going on and the language can be difficult. Athrabeth serves two purposes: 1) on a meta level, it is Tolkien exploring the differing fates and beliefs of the peoples of Middle-earth; and 2) on a textual level, Finrod is both having a cultural exchange with and seeking to comfort Andreth about the loss of Aegnor, his brother whom she loved. The two discussions are necessarily tied together, because Andreth's bitterness and anger over the mortal fate of Men (which she believes to be unnatural, imposed on them by Melkor) is tied into her feelings about losing Aegnor.

I want to focus on the relationship we're shown between Andreth and Finrod.

The Cultural Exchange

Finrod first engages Andreth, a wise woman among her people, in a conversation about the beliefs and mythologies of the Beorians. I have often seen Finrod criticized for being condescending here, and while I suppose you could read that attitude into it, I don't. When Andreth accuses the Elves of condescension, of considering Men beneath them, Finrod agrees with her:

"Alas, you speak near the truth," said Finrod. "At least of many of my people; but not of all, and certainly not of me."

He freely admits many Elves wouldn't bother with Men because they do consider them "creatures of less worth." But Finrod is among Men, asking questions about their culture and their belief system, because it interests him. From the very beginning, the story tells us Finrod's interest in Men and their culture is genuine, whether or not Andreth believes that.

Finrod (son of Finarfin, son of Finwë) was the wisest of the exiled Noldor, being more concerned than all others with matters of thought...and he was eager moreover to discover all that he could concerning Mankind.

And he seems to respect Andreth as a keeper of her people's knowledge, even if he doesn't always agree with it. The story very much sets them up both as respected individuals among their peoples, with even the Elves acknowledging Andreth's intelligence and knowledge:

[Andreth] was wise in thought, and learned in the lore of Men and their histories; for which reason the Eldar called her Saelind, 'Wise-heart'.

This exchange between them has always come off as one of deep respect on both sides, to me. It is precipitated by Finrod's grief for the death of Boron, a lord of the Beorians, and his struggle with the seemingly short lives of Men. He and Andreth compare the views of the world of their respective species and share beliefs that each side has in the nature of the world.

A number of things Andreth says Finrod knows are false, because he grew up in Aman, he's met the Valar. But even where he challenges her assertions--such as her belief that Men were not always mortal, but were made so by Morgoth--it isn't done with some effort to triumphantly prove her wrong, but rather advising caution or offering a different perspective.

"Beware of the chaff with your corn, Andreth! For it may be deadly: lies of the Enemy that out of envy will breed hate. Not all the voices that come out of the darkness speak truth to those minds that listen for strange news."

And there is a deep bitterness and resentment that arises around the notion that Morgoth robbed Men of their rightful immortality. It absolutely comes through in Andreth's tone throughout Athrabeth. It must be very easy for mortals to perseverate on this rather than taking mortality as the natural state of being and processing it through that lens. Andreth resents that she is mortal, and she sees her mortality (imposed on her by Melkor) as the reason she could not have Aegnor.

Andreth and Finrod like and respect each other enough to have a discussion/debate like this and still consider each other a friend at the end. Further along, Finrod even suggests Andreth may not be entirely wrong, but is deeply troubled by the notion that Morgoth could be powerful enough to do such a thing. In short, he is listening to Andreth, and while her assertions may not immediately make sense to him, he considers them and how they might impact a person's view of the world.

Andreth too, allows for some flexibility in belief:

"You speak strange words, Finrod," said Andreth, "which I have not heard before. Yet my heart is stirred as if by some truth that it recognizes even if it does not understand it."

While each of them already has their own ideas about the world and their species' relationship with each other and with death and hope, they listen to one another. They aren't simply arguing to prove themselves right--they are having a genuine discussion (which necessitates being willing to oppose each other on some things). Amid the discussion on mortality and the nature of death for Elves and Men, she says this:

"Hope, that is another matter, of which even the Wise seldom speak." Then her voice grew more gentle. "Yet, Lord Finrod of the House of [Finarfin], of the high and puissant Elves, perhaps we may speak of it anon, you and I."

There is some culture clash between them, as some of their views and beliefs are mutually exclusive, but although their discussion gets emotional at some points, it never, to me, feels mean or disrespectful. Here was a clear spot for Andreth to cut off the conversation if she felt talked down to, or upset, but instead she encourages it to continue. They may occasionally get intense with their discussions (Andreth does shed tears at a few points)--and Athrabeth implies in my view that this is not the first of these cultural discussions they've had--but they still like each other.

And that is part of the key to the Athrabeth for me--they are friends.

In the days of the peace before Melkor broke the Siege of Angband, Finrod would often visit Andreth, whom he loved in great friendship...

He comes to her in friendship, and goes out of his way to speak with her about the end of her relationship (whatever it was--the text isn't clear on that) with Aegnor. He opens this talk by asking her about things Andreth is known to be knowledgeable about--paying respect to her wisdom, and regarding her intellect highly enough to even have such a debate. He wants to understand her perspective on the world, and it does shape her reaction to her relationship with Aegnor.

Finally, Andreth, for her part, seems like she would be more than willing to tell Finrod to fuck off if she didn't like him or didn't want to talk or felt like he was being an ass. This is not a soft-spoken person; she is very upfront with Finrod when she wants to be. The fact that she continues to engage him both in the discussion about Mannish beliefs and about Aegnor suggests to me that she also considers him a friend, or at least that she feels generally amiable towards him

Explaining Aegnor's Choice

The other big criticism of Finrod that seems to come out of Athrabeth stems from this effort, which often seems to be a misunderstanding that Finrod is making an argument that Aegnor made the right choice, which is not at all how I read this discussion.

However, before that, I do want to say: Aegnor was not wrong to leave Andreth. There is, to me, an uncomfortable fandom attitude that Aegnor was obliged to stay with Andreth because she loved him, or that he somehow wronged her by choosing not to be in a relationship with her. No one is obliged to be in a romantic relationship they don't want, no matter what the reasons are. That Aegnor loved Andreth does not mean he was forced to be with her. There were other considerations in his life and I don't think it was invalid of him to place those first. Neither is it invalid of Andreth to be bitter about it--especially considering where she starts this discussion.

Andreth, early on, still believes that the reason Aegnor left her is because she isn't an Elf--that she isn't immortal. She talks about how she wouldn't have made herself a burden to him in her old age, how she would have only given him her youth, etc. She is 48 at the time of Athrabeth.

"I was young and I looked on his flame, and now I am old and lost. He was young and his flame leaped towards me, but he turned away, and he is young still. Do candles pity moths?"

You can see here her anguish over her own mortality, which ties irrevocably into her anguish over losing the love of her life. What Finrod tries to tell her is that it was nothing about Andreth that ended it. Aegnor's decisions were not based on his feelings about Andreth or her mortality, but on various cultural factors among the Elves (such as their disinclination to marry during wartime) and his obligations, in his mind, towards the war against Morgoth. Finrod tells her that "if his heart ruled" Aegnor would have run off with Andreth, but that he chose to put his duty above his desire for her.

"Adaneth, I tell thee, Aikanar the Sharp-flame loved thee. For thy sake he will never take the hand of any bride of his own kindred, but will live alone to the end, remembering the morning in the hills of Dorthonion."

He isn't trying to say "Aegnor made the right choice" or "Elves shouldn't marry mortals" but he is trying to give her context for a decision that's already been made. Aegnor is already gone; Finrod is trying to relieve Andreth of feeling that it was somehow her fault, or that she didn't live up to Aegnor's expectations.

"Then why did he turn away? Why leave me while I had still a few good years to spend?"

"Alas!" said Finrod. "I fear the truth will not satisfy thee..."

Here, he gives the explanation about customs of the Eldar and marriage, and about Elves and memory (specifically about how Aegnor, as an Elf, may prefer to dwell in the happiness of their memories rather than proceed to a grim future). Andreth does not seem especially comforted by this. It's understandable. Andreth is very bitter, and not unfairly: She's bitter that her people are mortal while Finrod's are not; she's bitter that this mortality (in her mind) cost her the man she loved; she's bitter that Aegnor left her. Andreth's life has been hard: it's very understandable that she's angry about it. So it makes sense that Finrod's words don't really reach her where she is now. She isn't ready for that; she's still dealing with all of these other feelings. But I do believe that someday, this conversation will mean something to her. Someday, when Andreth is older and has more distance, I think it will mean something to her that Aegnor loved her, and that it was duty, not contempt, that kept him from her.

Finrod does express belief that marriage between Men and Elves is destined to be sorrowful, but this isn't an illogical position from the half of the equation doomed to live on without their partner, or from one of a species who may literally die from grief. Naturally Andreth thinks of how she could have spent her youth with him at least, while Finrod thinks of how much pain Aegnor would have been in as Andreth grew old and neared death.

"I would not have troubled him, when my short youth was spent. I would not have hobbled as a hag after his bright feet, when I could no longer run beside him!"

"Maybe not," said Finrod. "So you feel now. But do you think of him? He would not have run before thee. He would have stayed at thy side to uphold thee. Then pity thou wouldst have had in every hour, pity inescapable. He would not have had thee so shamed."

It is also relevant that they both speak, on this matter, in ignorance. Neither of them has experienced or even seen a marriage of mortals and Elves (none occurs before Finrod's death in Tol-in-Gaurhoth). They are both speaking only from the heart, from what they feel would be true about it. It's also relevant to remember the decision has been made. Finrod is perhaps trying to explain how hard the marriage would have been in part to make Andreth feel better about its nonexistence, because he knows Aegnor will not go back on his choice.

And on some level, Finrod sees that he isn't going to radically change her view on this one visit, and that's when he backs off.

"And what shall I remember?" said she. "And when I go to what halls shall I come? To a darkness in which even the memory of the sharp flame has been quenched? Even the memory of rejection. That at least."

Finrod sighed and stood up. "The Eldar have no healing words for such thoughts, adaneth," he said... He took her hand in the light of the fire. "Wither will you go?" she said.

Athrabeth ends on such a tender note, it has always in my mind contributed to seeing the conversation as an overall positive: that Finrod looks forward to seeing Andreth after death, that he places himself--almost tentatively (and what is the meaning of that em-dash, Tolkien?)!--alongside Aegnor in her future. He knows her time on Arda is short, compared to his own, but he doesn't want this to be the only time their souls have together. It ends with his holding her hand in her grief and giving her this blessing:

"Wither you go may you find light. Await us there: my brother--and me."

This is why I've always seen Athrabeth as such an intimate conversation which speaks to a deep level of friendship and respect between Andreth and Finrod. It deals with a lot of emotionally volatile things, which I think makes people inclined to see either of them (Andreth especially) as upset by the conversation, rather than the issues that they are discussing in it. But to me, again, that they were willing to have such a raw, open discussion with each other speaks volumes about how positively they see each other. They are so clearly trying to reach out to one another from two very different places in the world.

"Yes, Wise-woman, maybe it was ordained that we Quendi, and ye Atani, ere the world grows old, should meet and bring news to one another...indeed, that you and I, Andreth, should sit here and speak together, across the gulf that divides our kindreds..."

"Across the gulf that divides our kindreds!" said Andreth. "Is there no bridge but mere words?" And then again she wept.

They don't always make it, and sometimes they wound, but they are trying. And that counts for something.

#Finrod #Andreth #The Silmarillion #meta #mine #okay I did it #this is really only concerned with the relationship between Andreth and Finrod #not an analysis of their actual beliefs #tolkien tag

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