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#one of the worlds greatest undefeated warriors is a woman
wraith-caller · 4 months
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Never been a fan of people trying to shape the Golden Order into conservative Christianity. Reading fics where they talk about women needing to be "traditional" or seen but not heard, when the figurehead of the Order is a woman who has waged loads of wars, had two husbands, makes a point of examining her faith rather than submissively accepting it. Seeing posts that seem to say the GO is villainizing the use of sorcery, a way of deriding the carians, when one of the greatest champions of the Order himself studied sorcery of his own volition, and married perhaps the greatest sorceress ever known. There's nothing to indicate the GO ever had a beef with the practice of sorcery, and it's not like they shuttered Raya Lucaria after the union of the Moon and Erdtree. Cringing every time someone describes Fundamentalism as the "thoughtless extremist" wing of the Order when it's supposed to be about taking a scholarly approach to the examination of the laws of causality and regression.
Idk. It's just, there's so many reasons to be skeeved out by the GO, and it exists within a fantasy with a totally distinct history from our own world. While there are obviously influences from a wide variety of real-world sources on the mythology and world of the game, it's not a direct copy of reality. It's lame to see sth so full of opportunity for interesting world building from fans just turned into a watered down copy of what they despise in reality.
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dragonbanexxi · 2 years
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The Dragon Queen
*Not Canon Compliant!!!*
Jaehaera Targaryen x Aegon III Targaryen
Chapter 4: Jaehaera
“You should rest your grace” the gruff voice of Ser Robert Oakheart interrupting her reading.
He was right of course, the hour of owl was upon them. Not that her body cared. The want of sleep had fleeted her body earlier in the night. So instead of laying down and staring at the canopy; the girl opted to read.
“I’m afraid sleep has evaded me once more Ser Robert. Besides this novel is to good to put down.”
The Knight smiled gently at her. Ser Robert looked very handsome when smiled. When he did, Jaehaera caught flashes of the man he was in his prime. No doubt this man had turned many noble ladies heads at court.
A lot of times the girl felt guilty of the life Ser Robert was now living. Before he whisked her away from Westeros, Ser Robert was a respected Kings Guard; serving with purpose. Now in Essos he was no one. Just a protector of a strange little girl who had no where to drop dead.
The Knight didn’t seem to notice Jaehaera’s internal conflict. Thank the Seven. A selfish part of her wanted the man to be by her side forever.
“What story enraptured you tonight your grace?”
The book she was reading was a collection of legends that were all basically the same story. The legend of Azor Ahai. In this instance she was reading the iteration of the Prince who was promised from YiTi.
“I’m reading the tale of an Amethyst Empress who was betrayed and slayed by her brother; for her crown.”
Funny while reading the story she never once thought about Rhaenyra and her father. Rhaenyra and the Amethyst Empress had something common she mused.
“He was later known as the Bloodstone Emperor. The Emperor married a Tiger-woman and did vile acts of worship for a black stone. His actions displeased his Gods so greatly that they created an army of mystical beings set on cleansing the realm.”
Her finger trailing the spine of the book.
“A warrior of the name Yin Tar ended the eternal darkness by sacrificing the greatest love he’d ever known.”
Ser Robert rubbed his chin in thought. “Sounds like the story of the Prince who was Promised to me.” Jaehaera nodded in agreement.
“This book is a collection of different versions of the Azor Ahai legend.” Setting the book aside, stretching her arms up in the air Jaehaera said “Stories parents tell their children to frighten them into obedience.”
The both laugh heartily. “Your grace.” The knight sounding serious asked “You can’t seriously believe these stories are just stories now?”
Jaehaera’s visage hid her emotions. Honestly since hatching her dragons the princess didn’t know what to think.
“Why do you ask Robert?” She leans back into her chair.
The man in front of her seeming to properly plan his words. “Your grace the story of the prince who was promised, the hero was reborn amidst salt and smoke.”
His eyes never leaving hers. “A great many saw you walk into the pyre to save your eggs and a great many witnessed you walk out the pyre with three baby dragons.”
And it was true. That night the Khal Amargo and his wife the Khaleesi Barha were planning on having a warlock sacrifice Jeena on the mother of mountains. Jeena being the daughter of the Khal’s sworn enemy. The warlock had promised that by sacrificing Jeena; Khal Amargo would be undefeated and known as the Stallion Who Mounts The World.
The Green Princess could not stand back and let her friend be murdered for nothing. Jaehaera acted quickly with the help of Ser Robert and she drugged the wines of the three perpetrators. Tying them to the posts of her tent. Jaehaera began the flames and stood next to Jeena. Her friend threw her tan arms around her saviors neck sobbing thank yous of relief. The leaders of the hoard and the skinny warlock’s screams will forever be ingrained in Jaehaera’s head. The feeling of regret however never weighed heavy in heart. How many more people would the Khal have sacrificed for his own glory?
Once the flames engulfed the entirety of her tent; it was then that Jaehaera remembered her dragon eggs.
“YOUR GRACE!!!! “ was all she heard as she rushed through the roaring auburn flames to retrieve her eggs. The flames licked her skin and to her surprise, it didn’t burn.
Her dragons came into the world screeching their tiny lungs out and quickly embracing their mother.
Jaehaera hadn’t meant to hatch her eggs, having been under the impression that they had calcified. Though looking back, it seems that the Green Princess had in fact made an accidental blood sacrifice to the Mother of Mountains.
“I’d be a liar if I said haven’t imagined myself being the one to bring the dawn.” She sighs raggedly “Yet I can’t help but think that bad things happen when we begin to believe we are part of something greater than ourselves.”
Ser Robert said nothing as he stood up to serve himself and Jaehaera a cup wine. It was from the Great Moraq, a soft white wine that Jaehaera grew to love. Though she knew the older man preferred red wine himself.
“I think that if the Seven blessed you with three dragons; your meant to go forth and do great deeds your grace.”
He handed her the cup of wine.
“Even if you don’t acknowledge it, the Dothraki who decided to stay have already begun to refer to you as Khaleesi.”
That made her belly flip. She wasn’t a Khaleesi. She was never married to Khal. She’s done nothing to deserve the title.
“If I’m a Khaleesi, I must have the smallest hoard in history.” She jokes trying to calm her nerves.
Only 100 people of the hoard stayed with her. Mostly being women and children. Only 23 Dothraki men stayed. Stating that her walking through the flaming pyre unburnt made her the Great Stallion.
“At the moment I don’t care for prophecy. If these people ever tire of me they are free to leave. Until then all I want is to find a secure place to call home.”
They sat there sipping their wine at a good pace.
“We need to go to Astapor to get supplies Khaleesi.” Jaehaera glaring at his smirk. Knowing he’d start calling her Khaleesi just to tease her.
“It’s the nearest city.”
“We don’t have money to buy anything.” She grumbled.
“I guess we must raid the Dothraki way no?” Ser Robert said.
Thinking it was joke Jaehaera laughed until she saw her companion’s straight face.
“You can’t be serious…”
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I want to clear up that, yes Jaehaera’s time in Essos is LOOSELY based on Daenaerys. A lot will be similar but not the same. Jaehaera’s motive is to never return to Westeros while Dany’s was to take back the Seven Kingdoms. Though Jaehaera will have to return eventually. Hope that clears up something’s! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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sukirichi · 4 years
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home from war | sukuna x reader
Home from War | sukuna x reader
featuring: sukuna x reader (historical au) with small moments of megumi x reader
warnings: very mild suggestive content, mentions of manslaughter and slight yandere tendencies + a toxic sukuna + angst + not proofread :D
part two!
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How does one soothe their lover who’s come from war?
You ponder about this carefully, eyes dark as you let your gaze travel from the opening door. Sukuna comes in, bare chest littered with cuts caked in mud, blood, and dirt, and you see the way the grip around his katana falters just a little bit. The room is dark – it is late at night, after all, and you had stirred awake in your accidental slumber from waiting too long for him to return home – but you see him under the darkness clearly. Way too clearly.
Those markings on his face you so dearly love don’t even seem threatening. You seriously question your sanity at this point because he is the Ryomen Sukuna; King of Curses. It’s no secret that he does as he pleases, taking someone’s life as if it was second nature to him, claiming territories, wealth, and even people as if they were his own.
You should be scared, and in a way, you are.
But not in that way.
You’re scared because his shoulders slump, those once burning red eyes fluttering close as he drops to his knees on the floor. Without wasting another second, you leap off the bed, your arms wrapping around his figure. He reeks of death, and before you know it, you wash his exhaustion away by peppering his face with the pads of your lips.
Sukuna hums, pulling you closer to him until there is no space between skin, his neck nuzzling in your face. “I’m home,” his lips brush the bare skin of your neck, his breath warm and ticklish. “I made it home to you, my love. Safely like you asked.”
Your heart clenches at his words. Immediately, you bite down your tongue and blink back the tears that threaten to fall. Safely? You want to snap back, your nails almost raking down his back. This is hardly considered “safely” when his knees wobble as you guide him inside the bath, nearly unable to keep his eyes open as you wipe away his cuts and the other remnants of war present on his body.
“I’m sorry,” his voice echoes in the confined walls. You don’t even realize the tears had fallen until his rough, calloused hands brush a tear away. He tilts your chin upwards to look him in the eye, lips trembling when those devilish eyes soften – reserved for you and only for you – and Sukuna sighs through his nose. “I wish I could stop the war, but — ”
“It’s not possible,” you finish for him, forcing a smile to help ease his worries. At this point, you’re conflicted between wanting to scold him to not leave the temple anymore and just stay with you, but you also know why Sukuna doesn’t do that.
It’s because he wants to keep you safe. As long as you were around, Sukuna would go the moon and back just to keep coming back home to you. Perhaps that was the most painful part – the fact that you knew he wouldn’t have done this if he hadn’t met you. Sukuna was the fearsome King of Curses, powerful and undefeated even after a thousand years, but he wasn’t omnipotent. Hundreds of jujutsu sorcerers have lost their lives trying to defeat them, and it took about a hundred more deaths before they backed off at the realization he couldn’t be defeated or exorcised.
Until you came.
You were Sukuna’s weakness, the chink in his armour, his Achilles heel.
The moment it was known that Sukuna kept a lover, they just kept coming. The war begun.  Soon enough, your days of rolling around in bed with him, trapped under his arms and weekends spent in whines of each other’s names disappeared.
Sukuna has a temple to defend. A lover to protect. A woman to cherish. A soul to treasure.
It was all because of you, and you know better than anyone else that he was tired. But he’d never tell you that. He would still scoop you in his arms; pull you closer by the hip so he could lay his ears on your chest, eventually falling asleep with the sensation of your fingers massaging his scalp while you hum to soothe him. The sound of your heartbeat has Sukuna exhaling rhythmically minutes later.
The notorious King of Curses, bundled up in the arms of his lover, completely relaxes in the privacy of his shared bedroom with the woman he loves most. It was as if the war didn’t happen at all. He sleeps with a small smile on his face, sleepily mumbling your name and reaching up to kiss your smooth skin every now and then.
It was perfect. It was heaven.
But that wasn’t you.
Because you are not her; you are not even human. You listen to all this on the other side of the temple. If you were anyone else, someone like her, then Sukuna’s intimate moments with his lover would be private – something that would be kept and cherished only between the two of them. But you aren’t human.
You are a curse born from people’s heartbreak and grief. You don’t even remember how you came to life; your first memory hazy of nothing but endless pain and so much anger you lost yourself. Until he came.
Ryomen Sukuna; the King of Curses – he adored you.
Finally, he met his equal. A curse equally as powerful and blinded by darkness, hatred, and bloodlust – you were one of the rare curses whose presence he enjoyed, and it didn’t take long before he invited you to his temple and offered a seat next to him.
You are Ryomen Sukuna’s right hand warrior, his greatest partner when it comes to battle. If he was powerful before, people feared you both even more when you joined powers. He didn’t go to war without you. For days on end, you and Sukuna would traverse villages and slaughter kingdoms to fill the emptiness gaping in your hearts, but he changed when he met her.
That fragile, meak, little human that loved him and changed him.
Because of her, even you are forced to join this war against jujutsu sorcerers. It’s been a long war – consisting of ten days and waning red moons. You and Sukuna barely came out unscathed this time, the Gojo clan seems to have something else under their sleeves, and your yukata had been ripped open in pieces while blood washed over your body like water.
You and Sukuna came back tired, weak, almost defeated.
You lay your back flat against the wall, teeth attacking your bottom lip while you pour potions over your cuts. At the other side of the temple, Sukuna is already fast asleep, safe in the arms of his lover. And you? You couldn’t even let out a small noise of whimper. Sukuna’s heightened senses would pick up on it, mistake that it would be his precious little woman in his sleepy daze, and you don’t want him to be further agitated.
Besides, once he realizes that it was just you, he would only go back to sleep.
Because he knew you didn’t need him, not in that way. You were the Curse born from Heartbreak, possibly the only ever person who would know pain and suffering the same way he did, but that isn’t true. Sukuna wouldn’t understand that this is your suffering – to have him within grasp but out of reach, to know that he was always with you, that he loves you just the same, but not in the way you want him to, not in the way you need him to.
To him, you are his beloved friend and partner in crime.
You are not the one who soothes him when he comes from war. You are not the one that gets to feel his harsh tongue soften at the first contact of your lips, to have the privilege of having rough hands that easily tortured others to be gentle as he dips his hands in the dips and curves of your body. You are not the one who gets to see him when he wakes up and he smiles half-lidded. You are not the one who gets to kiss his pain and wounds away, to wipe his tears from his cheeks because looking at you makes him wonder how lucky he is to have you.
Instead, you are the one he brings to war with. You are the one he trusts to keep her safe, to watch his back and guard all possible blind spots during war. You are the one who jumps in front of him when a blast of fire is on his way, and you are the one who heals his wounds in the battlefield when he grows too weak. You are the one he laughs with when you’ve both decapitated the enemy, growing only stronger with each passing day under the belief maybe both of you could rule the world someday.
But does any of it matter?
You always believed that you were okay with it, that having him trust you with his whole life, enough to have you sleeping under the same roof as him, was everything you needed. But after she came, you watched him fall in love, and you felt pathetic.
You could never have him.
You could never have what they have.
Sometimes you wonder, what if you just said it? In those nights where nothing but the moonlight illuminated both of your blood-stained faces, chests rising up and down as it both rumbled with laughter, discarded glasses of alcohol thrown on the ground – it would’ve been the perfect moment, wouldn’t it?
Though deep down, you knew the answer.
Sukuna wouldn’t love you, couldn’t love you. He wanted someone to protect, not someone to fight wars with. He wanted someone to come home to, not someone he wrecked homes with. He wanted to listen to someone’s dreams and passions – all of the things you didn’t have because you were born out of pain, living in pain, and Sukuna was the only thing that soothed you for a bit.
Your breaths came out raspy as your wounds began to close up. The stench of blood remained on your body, the red liquid drying up.
Sukuna wouldn’t want an impure woman like you. It makes sense he loved her. She was as bright as the sky while you were as dark as day, and when she laughed, she lit up the whole room. You don’t laugh, you don’t even smile. The only times you ever got to feel that sort of happiness was when you were still a fresh-born curse, a wild Sukuna more than glad to teach you of his ways.
It’s okay, you lie to yourself, crawling back to your bed while ridding yourself of your clothes. You would shower later; sleep needed to come first. Curses like you don’t really need, but you were too exhausted – inside and outside – that for once, you want to submit to healing.
As you close your eyes, you hear Sukuna stir in their room again. The sounds of faint lip-locking echo in your ears, making you slap your palms on the sides of your head, but you hear it, you hear it, you hear it, you hear it.
“How is Y/N?” she asks worriedly, her dainty, small, and innocent fingers that could never harm a fly brushing against his skin. Warm.
“She’s fine,” Sukuna rasps tiredly, “She’s a little beaten up, but she’s in a better state than I am,” you hear him kiss her on the forehead, a contended sigh leaving her lips. “She’ll be fine, my love. You know Y/N. She is fierce, brave, and courageous. This war is nothing to her.”
“I still feel bad she joined the war just so both of you could protect me.”
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
“She knows I love you,” Sukuna mumbles on top of her head, his hands tracing patterns on her back. Tears flowed out your eyes, your body trembling as you bit your fist, drool flowing down. You couldn’t stop the way you felt your heart torn to pieces. Really, it shouldn’t be anything new to you. You are a curse manifested from heartbreak, after all, but why did it hurt so much this time? “Y/N is a long time friend and ally of mine. She cherishes everything I cherish.”
“But still...aren’t you going to check up on her? I couldn’t even welcome her back. I haven’t seen you both in days and I...”
“Shhh,” Sukuna lulls her worries. “I’ll check up on her right now, although I don’t think she needs it. She’s a strong warrior, after all.”
“Sukuna,” her voice was laced with warning this time, but it later softens, as it always does. “Even the strongest have their weak moments, like how you are with me. Just because someone is capable of enduring the pain, doesn’t mean they won’t appreciate an act of kindness. Y/N has been loyal to you far longer than I have, but you really need to show your gratitude more to her,” she sighs, “Go check on her, my love. See if she’s doing well. If she’s fully recovered by tomorrow, I’ll head out to the market and prepare you both a lovely meal. It’s the least I could do.”
Sukuna chuckles, “My love, we don’t need to eat.”
“No matter. She likes miso soup, doesn’t she?”
By now, you’re frozen in bed. The blood and dirt and your skin have stained your sheets, and your hair is knotted in tangles from endless fighting. Maybe this is the reason why you hated yourself more than you hate her – because deep down, she isn’t really someone you could hate.
It makes sense Sukuna loves her.
Unlike you, she is kind, caring, gentle and full of love. What did you have? Pent up anger, bloodlust, temperamental tendencies and a hobby of withdrawing as a form of isolation because you couldn’t cope with the heartbreak – this is your gift. Your curse.
She is a blessing.
You hear the bed dip feet away, and whispers of, “Be safe, I’ll wait for you,” before a door slides close. Sukuna’s footsteps pad nearer in your hallway, in a place that he had his servants build just for you years ago when you proved your loyalty to him. Back then, you were over the moon when you saw him telling his people he wanted you to have your own room, but now it was like a huge slap on your face that Sukuna cared for you, but he didn’t want you close to him in the way she was.
Your room was on the other side of the temple, at the back, to be specific. While she stays with him in his own chambers, he used his magic to build her a beautiful garden filled with her favourite flowers, while you were somewhat locked away behind it all.
A bitter smile makes it way to your face. Sukuna was coming, not because he wanted to, but because she asked him to.
You want to laugh. Instead, you run out the room in such speed that the sheets fly away from your bed, and the floorboards crack under the force of your movements. When Sukuna raps his knuckles on your door, asks if he could come in (as if he needed permission for that), and you don’t answer, he takes it upon himself to intrude.
He isn’t surprised at your discarded clothes, or how your room remains dark and empty, as if you’d never been there at all. This isn’t the first time you ran away, and this would not be the first time he ran after you either.
He knows you’ll come home.
After all, it was him you kept coming back to – although he didn’t know that.
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Breakfast the next day wasn’t any better. She invited you to join them, fretting over the cuts on your cheeks and dabbing at them with a wet towel. She feels like a doting mother who wouldn’t stop worrying about her child who tripped, and again, you realize why he loves her.
The food was good. Like she promised, miso soup is placed in a bowl you painted years ago, and she beams at you expectantly while Sukuna caressed her thighs under the table. Your lips tremble as you take a spoonful of it, letting the warm soup soothe your exhausted body with a sigh. Sukuna peers at you in the same curiosity, head tilted to the side ever so slightly as if waiting how you’ll react.
It’s no secret you don’t open yourself up to anyone other than him. The moment she came to live with you both, he could tell you locked yourself up in your room and even disappeared for weeks under the lie that you were parading in the districts to “look for some fun.”
Sukuna knows you better than you know yourself. He knows it’s a lie, that you’re not someone who “looks for fun” and that you probably just stayed up in the mountains watching the sunrise. He knows you’re uncomfortable with her displays of affection, of how she easily adored you or how she cared for you like you were her sister or even a friend, but he doesn’t say anything about it.
If anything, he only hopes you would treat her the same way.
You don’t finish your bowl. It’s extremely difficult to enjoy the food when Sukuna compliments her on her cooking skills and she turns beet red beside him, nervously giggling that she just wanted to make you feel better. Sukuna bends down to steal a peck from her lips, teasing her that she was his “sweet angel” who had a heart of gold.
They don’t even eat.
They’re just giggling, laughing, kissing, and you understand – you really do. It isn’t every day that Sukuna gets to indulge in the presence of his beloved. But only you are there with him. It’s either he trusts you enough to let his guard down, or you’re unimportant enough that he doesn’t care if you see him completely baby her and spoil her rotten with how he grabs her onto his lap and starts kissing her nose and then her eyelids.
Their cheerful laughter is a great contrast to the sound of your heart shattering into pieces. They don’t notice that you’ve excused yourself, heading out the room and into the back part of the house, passing the servants on the way.
Similar to how they treat Sukuna, they quiver and bow before you, making sure to keep their eyes on the floor in fear you’d slice their heads off. You fight back a sigh. You wouldn’t do that – not when they welcomed you so warmly (or rather, fearfully) and accepted you as their master. You realize that they don’t act this way around Sukuna’s lover. In fact, they light up when she’s around and talk to her freely; everyone was just comfortable in her presence.
You know you’re not her.
You could never be her.
She was a human, and you’re nothing but a lonely, heartbroken curse.
Hours pass by, and no one looks for you. You dare not enter the garden Sukuna made for her even if you also like the flowers, simply because you don’t want Sukuna to be appalled at the thought that someone like you – a Curse who’d killed people and tortured others – would also be enamoured with something as innocent as daisies.
The lake is peaceful that night. It’s painful to bathe back at the temple because the servants won’t leave you alone. They insist on washing your body for you and that you should lay back, but you refuse to be coddled. The lake is on the other side of the mountain, deep in the forest with smaller curses lurking, so no one would find you here.
The moon shines down bright on you, and for the first time since you’d gotten home, you smile.
It looks so beautiful. So big and bright, yet so haunting and peaceful with secrets you could never uncover. You stare at it as you take off your robes layer by layer, feet dipping into the cold water before submerging completely. The ripples on the lake illuminated by the moonlight makes it even more soul-stirring.
You cup the water and wash your hair, finally getting rid of the invisible stains from the war. You felt clean, refreshed – but your heart still rumbled with hatred and darkness. Hatred that you couldn’t be good enough, hatred that you’re destined to be lonely and unloved.
One of the good things about bathing at midnight is that no one gets to see your tears when it mixes in with the water, and you throw your head back in laughter with your arms extended to the sky. This is who you are – a Curse with no future and no past.
Later, you choke as a sob begins, your fist clenching above your heart. It hurt everywhere.
You wanted Sukuna – so much that you felt like you were going to go insane.
If it wasn’t for him, you’d be trapped in an endless nightmare. But he saved you, cared for you, made you his equal. So why couldn’t he love you? You’ve always been there for him. When people turned against him or plotted a rebellion, you were the one who snuck into clan houses and slit their throats, making their descendants and followers witness the consequence of disrespecting Sukuna.
When he was nearly exorcised by an overpowered jujutsu sorcerer, you summoned an army of thousand lost souls to defeat them, nearly ending up with you losing your head in the aftermath. It was always you – you were always there from him since the beginning, so why didn’t he love you?
You cupped your eyes with your palms, unable to stop the tears from coming now. Your whole body shook with sobs, turning number and number at the cold water. Nothing mattered, nothing mattered, nothing did if you couldn’t have Sukuna.
“Sukuna,” you cried out, pushing your hair back as the ripples blurred in your tear-stained view. “Sukuna, help me, please...” Put an end to my suffering, you inwardly begged. Death is a better option than watching him fall deeper and deeper for her, knowing that could never be you. He’d never look at you that way. He’d never touch you that way. He would never be your lover, and your sobs grew more desperate because you know you are his lover.
God, you loved him so much more than you hated yourself.
This sort of madness had you gasping for air. Death – death is a better option. It is a much more peaceful way to go than to suffer each waking day to have what you want be explicitly stated to be reserved for anyone else but you.
You froze when a pair of arms encircled your waist, his grip strong and vice-like. He turned you around, his large hand coming at the small of your neck to bring you down to his shoulder where you could hide your tears. Until now, he knows you better than you know yourself, and he knows it would shatter you even more if he saw you crying.
“Y/N,” Sukuna begins, and your eyes widen when you see he’s still wearing his robe. He must’ve jumped in the water. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What’s wrong?”
Your lips turned blue from the cold. Unable to help the shiver that ran down your spine, your teeth chattered, and Sukuna pulled you closer to the heat of his skin. He sighed worriedly. “You need to tell me what’s wrong, otherwise, I can’t help you.”
“I” You falter. Your heart drums loudly in your chest. He would reject you, break your heart into pieces all over again but – so what if he did? It almost made you laugh. You’re the Curse of Heartbroken Souls. It wouldn’t make a difference if he hurt you now. Instantly, you weaken in his hold, and Sukuna’s hands grip your waist to keep you upright.
“Fuck, Y/N, what’s wrong —”
“Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Kiss me,” you repeat, more confidently this time. You pull away from him in the slightest bit, eyes blown wide as you peer up at his appalled ones. His hands squeeze your waist subconsciously, his sharp nails piercing through your skin until it draws blood. It makes you gasp a little, but you’re used to the pain. Right now, you want to be selfish and free yourself from this pain. “I want you to kiss me, Sukuna.”
His eyebrows pinch together. “What the fuck are you saying? I love someone else, you know I won’t —”
“Won’t do what?” You challenge, eyes burning from the intensity and ferocity of each nerve humming to life. “This isn’t who you are, Sukuna. You’re the King of Curses. Or have you already forgotten those days you would accept those female offerings and you’d fuck them until they’re out of their mind, then discard them as if they were nothing but dirty laundry? You were strong back then, majestic, but now you’re fucking weak,” You spat out. You know you’re spurning him on and pushing all his buttons, but somehow saying those words gave you great relief.
Now, it was time to see his patience snap, which shouldn’t take long since his grip had turned bruising on your hips, and he growled under his breath. “Don’t do this, Y/N.”
“You’re the one who shouldn’t do this,” you growl back, “You haven’t been the same ever since that pathetic excuse of a woman came. Don’t you remember that she left her husband and children just because she was a whore for you? Because you pleased her better than her human spouse?” You push him away with enough force that it sends him a few feet back, and Sukuna scowls. “She doesn’t love you! She only stays by your side because she was nothing but a filthy rat before and now you treat her like a queen! She’s nothing but a lowly human who —”
“Enough!”
“ —made you believe you’re someone she could love! Don’t you get it, Sukuna? We’re Curses, she’s a human! She will never understand us! You’re lying to yourself if you believe she doesn’t cry herself to sleep at the thought she’s next to a monster —”
“I said, that’s enough!” In a flash, Sukuna was in front of you, clawed hands wrapped around your neck. It would be so easy for him to break you and kill you right then and there, your feet already above ground and your exposed breasts just within his sight. Nevertheless, you only laugh cruelly at his agitation. “You know nothing,” he squeezed your neck tighter, “about what it’s like to love someone. How dare you say that she does not love me?”
“I know, because if you let me, I could love you a lot more,” you choked out, clawing at his arm, but he is unfazed by your efforts.
Sukuna lets go of you. You drop in the water as you gasp and breathe for air, but Sukuna’s wide eyes bring you back to reality. It’s that face, the one that tells you he’s been unaware this whole time, and the sudden confession drops on him like a cannonball.
Like a switch has been flipped off, you revert back to your normal self. Using your arms to shield your body, you run away from him, about to make it to the bank when his voice stops you. “Do you truly mean it? Do you love me?”
You close your eyes. “Yes. I always have.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You wouldn’t have believed me,” you pull your hair to the side, squeezing the water out. “You barely believe me now, so why believe me if I said it earlier? It wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“Then why were you calling for me? I heard you crying. You said you wanted me to help you.”
You whip around, tears furiously flowing down. “I’m going to the jujutsu sorcerers myself tomorrow and let them exorcise me. There’s no point to my existence, Sukuna. I’m tired of all the wars. I’m tired of fighting for someone I don’t even care about. I’m tired of loving you and watching you look at her instead of me, when I’m the one who’s always been there for you. I’m tired of —” you hiccup, embarrassed that he was now watching you break down in front of him. You were a powerful curse, dammit, you shouldn’t even be crying about this. “—I’m tired of not being the one you love.”
Sukuna stands there gaping. You don’t give him another chance to speak as you walk away, seemingly a new habit of yours now. You haven’t always been this way. Patience was never one of your strongest points, but being around Sukuna for the past years taught you a thing or two. That all shatters now that you’ve grown tired, the shame of patheticness crawling between your legs as you retrieve your robes, not bothering to dry up.
He exhales through his nose, claws balled into a fist to restrain his anger. Now he wants to be gentle with you the way he is with her?
Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic – you keep chanting to yourself. You’re not there yet, but there have already been rumours that you’re the Queen of Curses, the only one who ever managed to be Sukuna’s equal. Although men feared you, they also lusted after you.
How could they not? You were a sexual prowess, and a fearsome figure in the battlefield. Men are confused whether they want to be with you, or if the mere utter of your name had them fainting. Sukuna, on the other hand? He didn’t care. He didn’t notice you. You’re nothing but a war tool to him, his friend and companion during his dark days when he grew bored and would randomly slaughter homes and enslave people.
He’s not the same anymore. The Sukuna you once knew was gone, and you turned back away from him bitterly, the blue flames licking up your skin as a symbol of anger, hatred, but most of all, humiliation.
That night, you didn’t go back to the temple.
And a small, quiet village who’d been loyal to both you and Sukuna had become the victims of your frustration.
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The next day, silence echoes in the hallways of the temple. You couldn’t hear even the soft breathings or whispers of the servants. Your ears perk up once you cross the threshold, dropping your bloody katana and releasing your hair from its red tie. The temple servants must’ve already heard that their relatives died the night before – all thanks to your inability to handle your feelings.
It’s okay, you tell yourself, you’ve done this a thousand times before with Sukuna: killing people, enjoying their screams, basking in their surrender and painting the image of hope fading from their eyes into the back of your school.
You’ve done this a thousand times before with Sukuna, but this is the first time you’ve done it alone. You only ever took their lives because Sukuna asked you. Because he assured it was a way to keep gaining strength and to make a name for yourself; that being a powerful Curse was the best feeling in the world and no amount of woman or alcohol felt greater than power.
Sukuna lied.
To him, his heaven was in her arms.
And you? Utterly lost. Broken. With nowhere else to go. As you enter your room, you’re greeted by the sight of a made up bed and cleaned sheets. Even after slaughtering families, your servants still cleaned your room out of fear, and the previous blood from the other day had been wiped away with bleach.
Then, you see yourself from the floor length mirror. White yukata that might as well have been red from the amount of absorbed into the cloth draped over your curves, and your eyes lost what little light it once held. Blood drips from your fingertips and you swipe your thumb over your lip, a small gasp falling to your lips as you recall a little girl, barely five or six winters old, with the exact same lips trembling as she begs you not to kill her parents.
It’s the splitting image of you when you were younger, when you ran around cities unintentionally wreaking havoc out of confusion over your powers. You have no parents. No past. No memory. You just came into existence because of mankind’s grief, and it only made sense you carried that burden more than anyone else.
But you’re not this. You are not a killer. You didn’t enjoy it. You never enjoyed it. Even when Sukuna convinced you that you did, there was no forgetting the fact that you cried yourself to sleep when you were younger at the thought you grew more powerful because you added to the heartbreak of people.
The word heartbreak lights up a bulb in your head. That’s right...you’re the Curse of Heartbreaks – of pain, of grief, of mourning, of suffering.
If you couldn’t have what you want, then why should he? Isn’t it already written in your fate that your destiny is to carry those pain, inflict it onto others, and make them realize they’re wasting their lives believing a lie that love prevails all? That love prevails even someone as irredeemable as Sukuna?
You won’t allow it.
Without wasting another second, you dash to her room. Sukuna’s out to deal with some clan leaders for whatever ritual he wants to perform or out to get more healing potions. The girl never went anywhere else outside the temple because both jujutsu sorcerers and curses are always ready to prance, and she’s smart to not put herself in harm’s way.
But you are harm’s way.
You run so fast through the hallways that you keep bumping into corners, denting the wooden boards and the floor cracking beneath you. You don’t stop until you reach their room, swiping the doors open, and sliding on the doorframe when you see she’s still asleep.
She and Sukuna must’ve stayed up all night performing...activities. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been this weak. She’s a lively and bubbly girl, she wouldn’t have – you freeze in your spot.
Tentatively, you reach over to where she softly snored, tilting her to face you by grabbing her shoulder. She only groans in her slumber before burying herself under the covers. “Sukuna...” her brows furrow as she twitches, probably dreaming about something, and she kicks the covers off with a whine. That’s when you see it. And then you see everything.
A small – barely there – bump on her tummy is half concealed by her lace gown that reveals her skin free from scars, a sign that she’d never really been in battle. But she’s carrying his child, and even though you’re not the one pregnant, you feel bile rise up in your throat.
Your knees wobble and you fall beside their bed, your palms shaky as you place it over her belly. First, you hear a baby cry, and then, a man’s scream.
Sukuna carries his daughter’s form, the little thing bundled up safely in towels while her father coos at her. She’s so small, vulnerable and exposed to the horrors of the world, but she didn’t need to worry about that. Sukuna would protect her, and so would you.
You stand outside the room, a small smile on your face with your arms crossed on your chest. Well, you’ll be damned. You’re not a fan of children and babies in general, but you do admit the infant’s cries sound like music to your ears. It means she’s alive and healthy, and even though her existence is nearly impossible considering her father is a curse, the girl was born perfectly fine and well.
Suddenly, a dark, ominous presence looms over the room. You stand on guard, hands drawing your blade to prepare for whatever or whoever attacked you. You’re not a fan of the kid and or her mother regardless, but Sukuna is left open and vulnerable for attack in this state. He’s too busy fawning over his kid to sense any incoming assault.
However, something doesn’t feel right with this one. That dark, suffocating feeling doesn’t travel. Instead, it’s stagnant and somewhat docile, as if it has no intention to attack, but its threat still remains. It doesn’t even seem like it came from anywhere or it’s about to arrive. Rather...it’s like it was always there to begin with.
Your eyes widen at the realization.
What would happen if a curse...fathered someone else? Would it be human? Or would it be something worse?
You slam the doors open, and everything happens in slow motion. The baby’s mother reaches out to a nearly sobbing Sukuna, eager to see her child, but just as her small, grubby hands wrap around her mother’s pointer finger, it falls. She stops breathing, her arm falling limp, and Sukuna stops cooing. The baby’s cries cease, staring up at her father and extending her small arms to cup his face.
It seems he realized it too, but it was too late.
“Sukuna, don’t!”
The child giggles, her knuckles brushing against her father’s jaw, and the King of Curses lose his grip on her. You watch as they both fall, a garbled scream leaving your lips. The midwife runs to save the child before she’s crushed under Sukuna’s weight, but she too has fallen victim the moment her skin made contact with the baby’s.
No...it’s not even a child or an infant. It’s not even human.
It’s the Curse of Death.
And at her birth, the world would grow dark, darker than what you and Sukuna have already caused the world to be. Her words would sound like a fork scraping against a plate; torturous, excruciatingly painful, and enough to have you begging for death. The simple brush of skin upon skin takes away the energy, power, and life even of the most powerful beings. After all, what is stronger than Death? It was the only absolute truth in the world – which all things must come to an end.
You retract your hand from her body, sweat dripping on your hairline. That thing growing inside her body...it must not be born. Sukuna would die.
With a silent scream, you whip out the dagger and force it upon her stomach. Or at least, you would’ve, if not for the blade that had peaked out your chest and nearly poking Sukuna’s lover’s back. Blood stained the silver blade, leaking into your lap.
You drop your dagger.
“I trusted you,” Sukuna begins calmly, pulling out the sword from your body in one swift movement. He ignores the way you cough out blood, your head shaking as if to deny his words. His face remains expressionless as he wipes your blood on his thigh, dropping the potions to aid her pregnancy beside her on the bed. Sukuna crouches down to your level and pulls you by the hair until he’s close enough that you could see his two other eyes also glare at you. “Have I not made it clear she is to be untouched? Just because you’re unable to handle your petty jealousy, does not give you a goddamn right to kill what’s mine.”
“What grows in her is a monster,” you sneer, struggling against his grip. You’ve forgotten that his sword is imbued with his special curses that would immediately exorcise any weaker Curse, but because you’re on the same level as him, you die slowly, and a lot more painfully.
“That child is mine. It was created out of love.”
“It is not a child!” You argue, “It will be born as the Curse of Death, one that will kill both you and your little lover!”
“And if you’re lying?”
You grit your teeth. “I would never lie to you, Sukuna.”
His brow shots upwards, a smirk creasing his lips. “Is that so?” he shoves you until you slam against the wall. Sukuna treads to you dangerously, his tongue peeking out to swipe at his lips. You know that darkness in his eyes better than most – it’s the look he always wore when he decides to go for the kill.  “Then, since you’re always honest to me, tell me this: do you still love me?”
You don’t even think about it.
“Yes. That’s why I’m telling you to get rid of that thing before you and everyone else dies.”
“A concerned little lamb,” he hums in amusement. “That makes it clear then,” Before you could process what happens next, you take your last breath as Sukuna rips out your heart with his claws. It’s not an actual heart, but rather the core of your Curse manifestation and the gem-like object is crushed under his fists. “Queen of Curses, Curse of Heartbreak,” he drops the pieces of your heart into your lap, Sukuna growing more and more blurry in front of you. “Die the same way you came to life: with a terrible, terrible heartbreak.”
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Sometimes, you can’t help but feel like you’d been an awful person in your past life. It’s not that you’d ever done anything illegal or rebellious. Your parents are quite proud of your immaculately clean school record, and your grades are even above average. The school’s faculty absolutely adores you for your preppy personality, always volunteering to help others and taking the lead when no one wants to budge.
You suppose you’re quite a role model, but what no one understands is that maybe you’re always going out of your way to be kind with someone because deep down, you have a nagging feeling you’ve once been a terrible person.
Sighing, you wrap your arms around your legs as you hug it to yourself, whacking your forehead in your knees to get rid of those impending thoughts. There’s really no reason behind it, more like an intuition that you’ve forgotten about something important.
You’re pulled out of your trance when warm, soft hands push your hair back, and a pair of even softer lips land at your shoulders. Immediately, you smile, turning your head to peer at the dark-haired beauty that shyly peeks up at you under his long lashes. He keeps peppering kisses all the way up to your neck until you laugh from being ticklish, and it doesn’t take long before Megumi has you smiling again.
He knows you better than you know yourself.
“What’s wrong?” he mumbles on your shoulder, his warm hand drawing comforting circles on your lower back. Again, the simple gesture ignites something within you, something about oddly familiar even if you don’t feel like you’ve experienced it firsthand. “You’ve been deep in thought lately.”
“Lately?”
“Hmm,” he moves up your face, pressing a long, solid kiss at your forehead. It makes you relax and sigh happily, unable to help your urge to crawl into his lap and bury yourself in his arms. “Ever since Itadori enrolled here, you’ve always looked at him...quite weirdly. Is he bothering you? You know if he does something weird, I won’t hesitate to feed him to the Divine Dogs.”
That elicits a laugh from you. Now that you think about it, you’ve been awfully quite ever since Gojo sensei came back with that overly excited kid. You don’t know why, you don’t even realize his presence affects you, but you don’t want Megumi to worry about it when you can’t understand it yourself. So you hug him closer until the scent of fresh laundry wafts your senses, and you brush his scalp tenderly.
Megumi purrs.
“It’s nothing you should worry about, I’m sure I’m just tired from exams.” Unlike Megumi, you’re not a jujutsu sorcerer. You came from a totally human family that lived a totally mundane humane life, unaware that curses exist and people actually die from it. If it wasn’t for Megumi saving you that one time in school when you unknowingly stayed behind the same night the Occult Club did and ran into some freaky monsters, you would continue living without any idea of it.
It wasn’t always easy accepting Megumi’s true identity, but you loved him more than anyone else, and so hiding in his dorms while lying to your parents you were going to sleep over a friend’s house has become somewhat a daily occurrence. You’ve even made friends with the lovely Nobara and Maki senpai who welcomes you with open arms – although maybe it’s because you never fail to bring them food from the city and some fashionable items for Nobara.
Megumi senses your hesitance to talk about it, so he drops it and enjoys the feeling of your skin on him instead, your breaths falling in the same rhythm. Tonight, he and his classmates would go out on a mission again because the idiotic Gojo-sensei was away overseas, and as always, you’d stay up late in Megumi’s room, waiting for him to come back right after he promises you you’ll come back safely.
You close your eyes and wrap yourself around him like a koala, and Megumi laughs at how small you are. He doesn’t brush you off, though. He knows you fear for his life despite the fact you trust him with his abilities, but you can’t help it. It’s only natural to worry about your loved one, after all.
For now, he’ll have to keep cuddling and kissing you for as long as he could before he leaves.
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How does one soothe their lover who’s come from battles?
You scramble away from Megumi’s bed the moment you’re waken up by the sound of steady knocks. The first aid kit lays on his study desk, which you swipe with sleepy eyes as his baggy clothes crinkle in your smaller figure. It’s rare that Megumi lets you see his state during after battles, but today, tonight, he allowed you to stay even after his mission.
Your steps are nothing but hurried when you slide the door open, his name about to fall from your lips until you’re greeted by a young man with strawberry blonde hair and black marks on his face. It’s Itadori Yuuji, but at the same time, it’s not him...
His cheerfulness and airheaded self is gone, replaced with a much sinister entity residing within it. The man before you sighs, frowning in distaste at your clothes – your boyfriend’s clothes – before he invites himself in and shuts the door behind him.
Sukuna hums, pulling you closer to him until there is no space between your skin and his, his face nuzzling in your neck. “I’m home,” his lips brush the bare skin of your neck, his breath warm and ticklish. “I made it home to you, my Queen. Safely like you asked.”
“Wha-?”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers so quietly you wonder if you heard it at all. “For not believing you, for not seeing you. It took me thousands of years to realize where I fucked it all up, but I know the truth now. And you were right – you were always right. I hope in this life I no longer break your heart in the same way you soothe mine.”
 - - - - - 
A/N: Sounds like a pretty confusing ending, which it is, and I was gonna leave it at that but because I don’t want anyone to go “HUH?” after reading this, I’m just gonna explain :D Sukuna eventually realized how toxic he was to the reader in her past life, how he convinced her to be a bad person with him then emotionally abandoning her the moment he found his happiness. She was the Curse of Heartbreak, and her powers remained even after she was “exorcised.” 
She broke his heart by showing him how he lost everything after her exorcism and his lover’s death (because he also saw the future that the child was the Curse of Death) and all those years of suffering eventually made him realize that the power of heartbreak was the one that destroyed him. So in the present, when the reader was reincarnated as a human girl, he finally found her and tries to make up for his mistakes because she was actually his first love, he just didn’t realize it because both of them were somewhat barbaric and psychotic. Lmk what you think, I hope you liked it!
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wearetheblacklegion · 5 years
Text
Death of a World
@fuukonomiko (can you tag the other champions?)- based on her wrath ask
Callidia was a world of the Ecclesiarchy, an entire world dedicated to the worship of the God-Emperor and veneration of his Saints. At this time of year all were preparing for the annual Festival of Saint Callidia. The patron Saint of the world, the one hundred days of festivities and celebration mirrored the one hundred days in which the saint interrogated the xenos worshipping witch who came to corrupt loyal imperial hearts. Even to this day the remnants of the witches robes were on display beneath a glass case alongside the reliquary bones of Callidia. The festival would culminate in the ritual burning of effigies, symbolizing the witch being burned at the stake for her crimes. The Arch-Cardinal himself would preside over the ceremonies for the next hundred days. As a worldwide broadcast of the Cardinal’s opening sermon was interrupted by the darkening of the skies, awe turned to horror as they realized this darkness was man made. A massive fleet had entered orbit over the capital city, one comprised of countless variations of vessels both Imperial and xenos. The Arch-Cardinal’s broadcast fizzled and stuttered our, replaced by a new one. A feminine voice issued from every speaker on the world, one so laced with anger and venom that it froze the blood in the listeners veins. “You celebrate the torture of an innocent woman, memorialize her death, venerate her murderer. My sister came here seeking peace and sanctuary and you gifted her only with pain and blood. This gift I return to you now. Revel in it savages and know that I will feed every one of your miserable souls to the lowest of my servants!” The broadcast died and the sky began to burn.
Talorax watched, amused slightly as the panicked masses rushed towards his defenses. The Iron Warrior had been meticulous, encircling the city in tight cordon of hastily dug trenches and weapon emplacements. Artillery opened up with booming thunder over the chatter of gunfire. Explosions ripped gaping holes in the mob even as they were torn apart by the massed fire. Quickly it became a charnel ground of exploded meat and viscera, forcing the survivors to choose between another suicidal rush or retreat back into the city. At his command the columns of Land Raiders and Rhinos began pushing forward, grinding corpses to meaty pulp beneath their treads. Talorax allowed himself a smile. There would not be two bricks left stacked upon each other when he was through.
Icarus impaled a screaming priest upon his blade, the power field charting flesh and bone. The man had a moment to scream before the weapon ripped up and out through his torso. Around him the forces of the goddess fought with the zeal of fanatics. To his right a warrior seized scrambling man and swung him bodily into a marble column till he burst like a forest piñata. To his left a tattoo covered cultist fell upon a scrambling pilgrim, dagger slashing and stabbing with a fury worthy of a khornate worshipper. One woman clad in the vestments of the clergy bravely rushed them with a candelabra only to be mobbed down and shredded by a chittering swarm of imps. Astartes, mortals, and daemon alike fought side by side with the wrath of their goddess fueling their limbs. This world would die, it had been commanded.
Drogan roared as he killed, daemonic strength pulsing within his flesh. His bone blades flashed out, punching through the vulnerable throat armor of a Celestian. The battle sister gurgled blood and clawed uselessly at him before he discarded her upon the floor. He heard a feral howl and saw a blur of storm gray rush past him, Hirvik leaping into the fray with chainsword screaming. Furio was not far behind, draped in newly acquired skins still bleeding, a ghastly resemblance to his long deceased gene-father. Only the maddest and most fanatical followed them, wielding archaic or warp forged weapons of terrible power. Astartes roaring battle hymns as they cut through Sororitas ranks, masses of crazed and mutated cultists going laughing to their deaths and pulling down sisters through sheer numbers, summoned daemons running amok. And through the center of it all strode the goddess in her war form. Fuuko was clad in sinuous armor of ebony and crimson, patting only for the eternally open eyes upon her chest and the fanged maw of her abdomen. Batlike wings folded tightly into her body as horns rose from her flowing mane of jet black hair. She moved with unhurried grace, an eye of calm amidst the madness, yet her very presence shook the material realm with barely restrained power. One sister broke through and rushed the goddess with a blade raised high, screaming praise to her Corpse-God. Her blow never made it as silvery steel intercepted and turned it aside. Vico was the greatest swordsman of the Vaults, unmatched and undefeated. With disarming ease his sword flickered our and took the martyr’s head clean off. None would ever get past his blade to reach his sovereign.
The Celestian Sisters fought with courage and righteous fury but it availed them none. The last one died still cursing them as Vico’s fangs tore out her throat. With the defenders slain it was only a few moments before two mortals dragged the crimson swathed obesity that was Arch-Cardinal Julianus. The man was dumped into a cowering, sobbing heap before Fuuko’s feet. There was only cold disdain in the goddess eyes. “I wonder if my sister begged the way you pitiful mortal did. Did she scream? Did she cry out for mercy? Would your kind even have listened. Scream for your Emperor little priest, scream like all the victims of your precious church.” The maw opened wide, slavering fangs stretching out in endless hunger. Julianus stared into the madness of oblivion and he screamed as it closed in on him.
For one hundred days a world burned. Their cities were reduced to rubble, their holy sites ruined and the earth salted. Pilgrims and clergy alike were hunted and slaughtered in an orgy of death and blood, none allowed to survive. When her earth was finally spent the forces of the Vault returned to orbit and virus bombed the world to barren rock. When the Imperial fleet did finally arrive all they would find was a planet-sized tombstone, a monument to the wrath of the divine.
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katycatking-blog · 5 years
Video
(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BGhgZekwCM)
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CONTENTS
Achilles: Early Life
Achilles: The Trojan War
Achilles: The Illiad
Achilles: The Fate of Achilles
The warrior Achilles is one of the great heroes of Greek mythology. According to legend, Achilles was extraordinarily strong, courageous and loyal, but he had one vulnerability–his “Achilles heel.” Homer’s epic poem The Iliad tells the story of his adventures during the last year of the Trojan War.
Achilles: Early Life
Like most mythological heroes, Achilles had a complicated family tree. His father was Peleus, the mortal king of the Myrmidons–a people who, according to legend, were extraordinarily fearless and skilled soldiers. His mother was Thetis, a Nereid.
Did you know? Today, we use the phrase “Achilles heel” to describe a powerful person’s fatal weakness.
According to myths and stories composed long after the Iliad, Thetis was extraordinarily concerned about her baby son’s mortality. She did everything she could to make him immortal: She burned him over a fire every night, then dressed his wounds with ambrosial ointment; and she dunked him into the River Styx, whose waters were said to confer the invulnerability of the gods. However, she gripped him tightly by the foot as she dipped him into the river–so tightly that the water never touched his heel. As a result, Achilles was invulnerable everywhere but there.
When he was 9 years old, a seer predicted that Achilles would die heroically in battle against the Trojans. When she heard about this, Thetis disguised him as a girl and sent him to live on the Aegean island of Skyros. To be a great warrior was Achilles’ fate, however, and he soon left Skyros and joined the Greek army. In a last-ditch effort to save her son’s life, Thetis asked the divine blacksmith Hephaestus to make a sword and shield that would keep him safe. The armor that Hephaestus produced for Achilles did not make him immortal, but it was distinctive enough to be recognized by friend and foe alike.
When Homer wrote the Iliad in about 720 BCE, however, readers and listeners would not have known any of this. They only knew that Achilles was a great hero, that he had superhuman strength and courage and that he was supremely handsome. Homer painted a more nuanced picture: In addition to these qualities, his Achilles was vengeful and quick to anger and could be petulant when he did not get his way. He was also deeply loyal and would sacrifice anything for his friends and family.
Achilles: The Trojan War
According to legend, the Trojan War began when the god-king Zeus decided to reduce Earth’s mortal population by arranging a war between the Greeks (Homer calls them the Achaeans) and the Trojans. He did this by meddling in their political and emotional affairs. At Achilles’ parents’ wedding banquet, Zeus invited the prince of Troy, a young man named Paris, to judge a beauty contest between the goddesses Hera, Athena and Aphrodite. Each of the goddesses offered Paris a bribe in exchange for his vote. Aphrodite’s was the most alluring: She promised to give the young prince the most beautiful wife in the world. Unfortunately, the wife in question–Helen, the daughter of Zeus–was already married to someone else: Menelaus, the king of Sparta. At Aphrodite’s urging, Paris went to Sparta, won Helen’s heart and took her (along with all of Menelaus’ money) back to Troy.
Menelaus vowed revenge. He assembled an army of Greece’s greatest warriors, including Achilles and his Myrmidons, and set off to conquer Troy and get his wife back. In Homer’s telling, this war lasted for 10 bloody years.
Achilles: The Illiad
When the Iliad begins, the Trojan War has been going on for nine years. Achilles, the poem’s protagonist, has led one battle after another. He has met with great success–in fact, he is undefeated in battle–but the war itself has reached a stalemate.
Homer’s story focuses on a different conflict, however: the internecine quarrel between his hero and Agamemnon, the leader of the Achaean armies and Menelaus’ brother. In a battle that took place before the poem begins, Agamemnon had taken as a concubine a young Trojan woman named Chryseis. Chryseis’ father, a priest of the god Apollo, tried to buy his daughter’s freedom, but Agamemnon mocked his entreaties and refused to release the girl.
Enraged, Apollo punished the Greek armies by sending a plague to kill the soldiers one by one. As his ranks thinned, Agamemnon finally agreed to allow Chryseis to return to her father. However, he demanded a replacement concubine in exchange: Achilles’ wife, the Trojan princess Breseis.
Achilles did as his commander asked and relinquished his bride. Then, he announced that he would no longer fight on Agamemnon’s behalf. He gathered his belongings, including the armor Hephaestus had made, and refused to come out of his tent.
With the Greeks’ greatest warrior off the battlefield, the tide began to turn in favor of the Trojans. The Greeks lost one battle after another. Eventually, Achilles’ best friend, the soldier Patroclus, was able to wrangle a compromise: Achilles would not fight, but he would let Patroclus use his powerful armor as a disguise. That way, the Trojans would think that Achilles had returned to battle and would retreat in fear.
The plan was working until Apollo, still seething about Agamemnon’s treatment of Chryseis and her father, intervened on the Trojans’ behalf. He helped the Trojan prince Hector to find and kill Patroclus.
Furious, Achilles vowed to take revenge. He chased Hector back to Troy, slaughtering Trojans all the way. When they got to the city walls, Hector tried to reason with his pursuer, but Achilles was not interested. He stabbed Hector in the throat, killing him.
Hector had begged for an honorable burial in Troy, but Achilles was determined to humiliate his enemy even in death. He dragged Hector’s body behind his chariot all the way back to the Achaean camp and tossed it on the garbage heap. However, in the poem’s last section Achilles finally relents: He returns Hector’s body to his father for a proper burial.
Achilles: The Fate of Achilles
In his Iliad, Homer does not explain what happened to Achilles. According to later legends (and bits and pieces of Homer’s own Odyssey), the warrior returned to Troy after Hector’s funeral to exact further revenge for Patroclus’ death. However, the still-vengeful Apollo told Hector’s brother Paris that Achilles was coming. Paris, who was not a brave warrior, ambushed Achilles as he entered Troy. He shot his unsuspecting enemy with an arrow, which Apollo guided to the one place he knew Achilles was vulnerable: his heel, where his mother’s hand had kept the waters of the Styx from touching his skin. Achilles died on the spot, still undefeated in battle.
Citation Information
Article Title
Achilles
Author
History.com Editors
Website Name
HISTORY
URL
https://www.history.com/topics/ancient-history/achilles
Access Date
16 August 2019
Publisher
A&E Television Networks
Last Updated
June 7, 2019
Original Published Date
March 21, 2011
BY
HISTORY.COM EDITORS
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1 note · View note
diioonysus · 6 years
Note
what are the top ten most interesting people in history to you?
10. Catherine de’ Medici: said to be one of the most powerful woman in Europe
9. Charles V: the heir to three of Europe’s leading dynasties and his domains ranged for 4 million square miles
8. Richard lll of England: last king of York, and a mystery of whether he murdered his two nephews has never been solved
7. Henry VII of England: the first of the Tutors
6. Roman Emperor Tiberius: said to be one of the greatest Roman generals, but was known to be a dark ruler
5. Caligula: Tiberius’ heir, who was INSANE
4. Alexander The Great: one of the world’s most successful military commanders: undefeated in battle
3. Marco Polo: the first person to document their travels to Asia, and the Mongol leader refused to allow him to leave
2. Thutmose III: conquered 350 cities and was a military genius, and considered the greatest Egyptian warrior pharaohs that transformed Egypt into an international powerhouse 
1. Leonidas the legendary King of Sparta: who sacrificed himself and his 300 men to protect Greece from an invading Persian empire, famous words when asked by the persians to give up their weapons: “come and get them!” when seeing that they were surrounded; he commanded the remaining greeks to return and defend the city, 300 Spartans and 700 Thespians and himself stayed behind to protect the city and were killed in a trap.
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what films would you rec for a bollywood begginer?
Oh gosh. There are so many good ones, but let me see.
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Here are some films I would consider watching. 
Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge - When Raj and Simran first met on an inter-rail holiday in Europe, it wasn’t exactly love at first sight.
Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara - Three friends decide to turn their fantasy vacation into reality after one of their number becomes engaged.
Jab We Met - A depressed wealthy businessman finds his life changing after he meets a spunky and care-free young woman. 
Swades - A successful Indian scientist returns to an Indian village to take his nanny to America with him and in the process rediscovers his roots.
Dil Chanta Hai - Three inseparable childhood friends are just out of college. Nothing comes between them - until they each fall in love, and their wildly different approaches to relationships creates tension. 
Lagaan: Once Upon  Time in  India - The people of a small village in Victorian India stake their future on a game of cricket against their ruthless British rulers.
Highway - Right before her wedding, a young woman finds herself abducted and held for ransom. As the initial days pass, she begins to develop a strange bond with her kidnapper.
Kahaani - A pregnant woman’s search for her missing husband takes her from London to Kolkata, but everyone she questions denies having ever met him.
Kai Po Che -Three friends growing up in India at the turn of the millennium set out to open a training academy to produce the country’s next cricket stars. 
The Lunchbox - A mistaken delivery in Mumbai’s famously efficient lunchbox delivery system connects a young housewife to an older man in the dusk of his life as they build a fantasy world together through notes in the lunchbox. 
English Vinglish - A quiet, sweet tempered housewife endures small slights from her well-educated husband and daughter everyday because of her inability to speak and understand English. 
Lootera - An aristocrat’s daughter falls in love with a visiting archaeologist, but he holds a secret that could drive them apart.
Fitoor - Modern adaptation of Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations; a poor but talented boy falls in love with a girl from an affluent family.
Queen - A Delhi girl from a traditional family sets out on a solo honeymoon after her marriage gets canceled.
Rustom - In 1959, a decorated naval officer is accused of murdering his wife’s lover. 
Dangal - Former wrestler Mahavir Singh Phogat and his two wrestler daughters struggle towards glory at the Commonwealth Games in the face of societal oppression.
Pink - When three young women are implicated in a crime, a retired lawyer steps forward to help them clear their names. (Warning: rape/assault)
Hindi Medium - A couple from Chandni Chowk aspire to give their daughter the best education and thus be a part of and accepted by the elite of Delhi.
Trapped - A man gets stuck in an empty high rise without food, water or electricity.
Badrinath Ki Dulhania - Badrinath Bansal from Jhansi and Vaidehi Trivedi from Kota belong to small towns but have diametrically opposite opinions on everything. This leads to a clash of ideologies, despite both of them recognizing the goodness in each other. (Although I would caution watching due to sensitive topics discussed in the movie).
Dear Zindagi - Kaira is a budding cinematographer in search of a perfect life. Her encounter with Jug, an unconventional thinker, helps her gain a new perspective on life. She discovers that happiness is all about finding comfort in life’s imperfections.
Raees -Criticizing the prohibition of alcohol in Gujarat, this film unfolds the story of a clever bootlegger, whose business is challenged by a tough cop.
Lipstick Under My Burqa - Set in the crowded lanes of small town India, a burkha-clad college girl struggles with issues of cultural identity and her aspirations to be a pop singer. A young two-timing beautician, seeks to escape the claustrophobia of her small town. An oppressed housewife and mother of three, lives the alternate life of an enterprising saleswoman. And a 55 year old widow rediscovers her sexuality through a phone romance. Trapped in their worlds, they claim their desires through secret acts of rebellion.
Neerja - The story of the courageous Neerja Bhanot, who sacrificed her life while protecting the lives of 359 passengers on the Pan Am flight 73 in 1986. The flight was hijacked by a terrorist organization.
Namastey London - A man takes his thoroughly-British daughter to his home country, India. There, he arranges her marriage to someone she considers a fool. The daughter attempts to outwit them, but the groom quietly and patiently hatches his own plan.
Kapoor and Sons - A story revolving around a dysfunctional family of 2 brothers who visit their family and discover that their parents marriage is on the verge of collapse,the family is undergoing a financial crunch and much more as the drama unfolds.
Taare Zameen Paar - An eight-year-old boy is thought to be a lazy trouble-maker until the new art teacher has the patience and compassion to discover the real problem behind his struggles in school.
Piku - A quirky comedy about the relationship between a daughter and her aging father, whose eccentricities drive everyone crazy.
Barfi! - A charming deaf-mute prankster’s  bittersweet relationship with two women, one is autistic, turns his life upside-down. 
Omkara - A politically-minded enforcer’s misguided trust in his lieutenant leads him to suspect his wife of infidelity in this adaptation of Shakespeare’s ‘Othello’.
Wake Up SId - Sid Mehra (Ranbir Kapoor) is a young man living in Mumbai who benefits from the indulgence of his parents. After graduating from university, he makes a stab at working in his father’s business, but lasts only a week. He then meets Aisha (Konkona Sen Sharma), an aspiring writer from Calcutta. Sid helps her get settled in the city and then wants to take things further – but Aisha isn’t interested because of Sid’s slacker personality. Will her rejection serve as a wake-up call for Sid?
Jodhaa Akbar - Epic romance, set in 16th-century India, about the love story between Jalaluddin Mohammad Akbar, the Mughal Emperor of Hindustan, and Rajput princess Jodhaa. In order to extend his empire, Akbar agrees to a marriage of alliance to young and fiery Jodhaa but soon realizes he has to defend his choice of bride as his courtiers voice their displeasure at the idea of their Muslim Emperor marrying a Hindu.
Devdas - After his wealthy family prohibits him from marrying the woman he is in love with, Devdas Mukherjee’s life spirals further and further out of control as he takes up alcohol and a life of vice to numb the pain.
Bajirao Mastani - In 16th century India, undefeated warrior Bajirao was bestowed with the title of Prime Minister, and became the greatest weapon of his Empire. Bajirao recieves a rider with an urgent request to save a fort under siege by the Moguls, Bajirao’s greatest opponents. He refuses initially, but is mesmerized by the rider, a beautiful Rajput princess who rode for days to seek him out. Despite Bajirao’s best efforts, he cannot deny his love for Princess Mastani. She pursued him to Pune, where Bajirao’s family promptly sent her away. Bajirao faced great opposition from his family, his people, and his priests. Every attempt is made to separate them, but they always find their way to each other, finally paying the ultimate price in the name of love.
Kabhi Kushi Kabhi Gham - Rahul, the adoptive son of business magnate Yash Raichand, feels eternal gratitude to his father for rescuing him from a life of poverty. Yet, when Yash forbids his love of poor Anjali, Rahul marries her and moves to London with new wife and sister-in-law, Pooja, breaking the heart of his mother. Ten years later, Rahul’s younger brother comes to London intent on brokering peace between father and son.
Dil Se - The clash between love and ideology is portrayed in this love story between a radio executive and a beautiful revolutionary
Damini - The theme revolves around the character Damini who represents truth and innocence. After her marriage in renowned wealthy family, Damini happens to see a cruel act done by her brother-in-law. She wants the victim to get justice, but the family including her husband oppose her, which leads her to leave the house. Soon she is helped by a drunkard, an ex-advocate, who helps her in all respect to reach to her aim and therefore justice.
Mrityudand: The Death Sentence - Mrityudand is a film commentary on the social and the gender injustice. A woman (Madhuri Dixit), her sister-in-law (Shabana Azmi) a laborer (Om Puri) and others unite to stand up against a hard-nosed businessman.
Sadma (stars Sridevi) - One night, Sadma is in a car accident, which leaves her with amnesia. She runs away from the hospital but ends up in a brothel, where she meets a friendly schoolteacher.
Rangeela - A middle class young woman, who dreams of Bollywood fame, is caught in a love triangle between her childhood friend and a famous actor.
Ek Hasina The - A woman falls for a charming and mysterious businessman. The whirlwind romance turns sour when she is framed for his underworld crimes. Now, finally out of prison she is ready for sweet revenge.
Anand - The story of a terminally ill man who wishes to live life to the full before the inevitable occurs, as told by his best friend.
Mere Brother Ki Dulhan - A quirky rom-com where Kush finds the ideal Indian bride Dimple for his brother Luv and a series of comical and unpredictable events follow.
I know that the question is asking for Bollywood films, but I need to go ahead and include two of Indian Cinema’s post popular films ever released. 
Bahubali - In ancient India, an adventurous and daring man becomes involved in a decade’s old feud between two warring people.
Bahubali 2 - When Shiva, the son of Bahubali, learns about his heritage, he begins to look for answers. His story is juxtaposed with past events that unfolded in the Mahishmati Kingdom.
Not Bollywood films, but these are recommended by our followers:
Ok Kamani (Similar to Ok Jaanu) - Two young lovers are compatible in every way - they even agree that marriage is futile. However, their emotions are not so easily managed, especially when they witness the unconditional love of the older couple with whom they live.
Alaipayuthey - A computer expert and a crusading doctor marry in secret, then deal with death and trauma.
If you ever need more recommendations. Just shoot a message at our inbox. And I will update the list as they come.
- Sonia
944 notes · View notes
livebyfaithhopelove · 7 years
Text
DEAR BROTHERS AND SISTERS,
HE WAS AND HE IS AND HE WILL
I died every day, many times in many ways. I surrendered myself not for victory but because I can no longer stand. I can’t fight no more. I can’t find the light.
I walked the valley with no directions. Yes, I can see but I don’t know where to go. I called, I asked, I shout, I cried. Yet no one answered.
Where are you?
The one whom I trusted.
The one whom I loved.
The one whom I served.
The one whom I prayed to.
The one who called me HIS.
The one who poured out grace on me.
I shouted.
I cried.
The hopeful self, is in desperate need.
Help me.
 Darkness became me. But I’m still hopeful. I still have the hope. That one day, I will be found. That out of this world, he will still listen, he still cares.
Everyone was there for me but I felt empty.
Everyone was hugging me, but it just passes through me.
I know what’s wrong.
I know there is something that I need.
 What do you think is the answer?
 I was blinded.
I found hope
Happiness
Joy
Evrything that makes me feel lifted up.
I found it.
But it was different.
It only last for a day.
I think it is from the world’s.
But I loved it too.
I do.
But why it was like this?
Why do I still feel like I’m alone
After a day of happiness
At the end of a day
Why am I alone?
 I summoned you again.
The Almighty.
“where am I now?”
I asked.
The wind whispers at me.
The dark clouds felt me.
They cried too.
I was in shock
Because for again, my tears run from my eyes
This is incredible.
It’s been a long time since I cried
Since these tears showed up.
I felt you.
 I am all alone now.
Are you still there?
Can you still hear me out?
I had a lot of questions.
But all of it was answered.
YOU DID.
 It was my fault.
I turned back.
It was me who did it first.
When I get tired
I left you
That’s when I started to feel nothing
Because you were my everything.
And leaving you
Is making myself into nothing
I know.
And it hurts
But you were hurt too
I was too dumb
I left you. You didn’t
I was in miserable
In agony
In pain
In brokenness
It was my fault
Because I stopped loving you
But you didn’t.
 Cats and dogs were fighting that day
As so my tears fall
They were like a storm
Very likely to me
That destroyed me in a way
Devastated me
Yet created a new me
 I said earlier
That I’ve found out the answer
Yes I did
It is He.
It was Him
Who I left behind
Whom I served
whom I trusted.
whom I loved.
whom I served.
whom I prayed to.
who called me HIS.
who poured out grace on me.
GOD.
He was
He is
He will
And will always be
LOVE
He is Love.
 I left him
Because I no longer love him
And it made me nothing
Because He truly was everything
Leaving Him
Is not the best choice
Because it left in despair
And I was in a mess
 LOVE
He taught me this
Because he was this
He was love
Love that will never fail
Love that will never leave
He is the face of every goodness
Just
Peace
The one that I’ve been looking for
The one that brings me peace
He had it
And will always have it.
 Finally
I was able to survive
For once again
He did embrace me
Through the wind
Through the storm
Through the sun rays
Through the sky
Through his people
Through His ways
 Amazing he was
Amazing he will always be
 He forgave
He accepted again
He loves
He heals
He makes way
He fixes
He provides
He is the hope
He is the rock
He will stand
And will always will
 LOVE
That he is
True love
That gives meaning to the world
 This is the answer
He is the answer.
 He saves me.
Not the world
Not my friends
Not the church were I am attending to
Not my parents
Not my advisers
Not the priests or my churchmates
They were His ways
And I am grateful for them
 God has His ways
He did it on me
When I tend to forget
He never did stop loving
So I can never forget
How much he love me
My everything
 Too weird for other people
But this is the truth
That sets me free
That let me lives
 From a lost sheep
He found me
Beautiful, was it?
His spirit
Gave me life
From death
I was raised
And  I want to share it to the world
That he, will lift you again
Just like what he untiringly did
With some unworthy like me
With a scarred person like me
With a mud like me
 The trembling child in me
He wipes it
He comforted
He touches
 God thank you.
For saving me
From the mess that I’ve become.
 May your people
Be touched
Be saved
Be complete
In YOU
 Because only in you
Will us be SAVED.
 Declaring in His mighty Name.
In Jesus name
That From NOTHING
you will find everything NOW
Because HE will FULFILL THE EMPTINESS
HE will pave  the way
HE will do it again and again
 Feel His presence
Accept His love
His grace
His gift
It is Him
And he will save you
LOVE
LOVE
LOVE
Is GOD
GOD HIMSELF IS LOVE
And it is the only thing that never change
That makes sense
That will always be true.
 Be ready
For he will change you
In our heart
In our lives
Let Him control us
Let Him enter
Let us pray
Let us accept Him
Let us be Filled
 After reading this.
Can you pray with me?
 Lord Jesus Christ. You deserve all the praises
You are the Most High and we humbly ask for your forgiveness.
Help us find ourselves again, in your grace, in you love, in your arms.
We thank you so much for everything. Words are not enough yet we truly thank you.
Lord teach us to love like how you love us. It is only you who can do that for you yourself is LOVE that will never ever fade.
 Lord we are sincerely calling out for you. Help us, to make you as our savior and Lord.
We make you and accept you as the driver of our lives, as our Lord God, as our savior, the author of our my hope, my story and my life
Take control, my Father.
Live in me. Let me live in your purpose. Take me out from the world’s love and let me live in your LOVE.
I surrender now. Not in my coward being, but for your GREATEST NAME.
In Jesus name, AMEN.
 For victory that JESUS WON,
Let us not be afraid.
We are UNDEFEATED.
OVERCOMER
Let us live like what Christ did.
And let’s say to the world,
THIS IS LOVE, THIS IS TRUE LIVING.
MANIFEST HIS LOVE.
LET US BE THE SALT AND LOVE.
He has won it all.
Now let us continue HIS MISSION.
 Come’n, brothers and sisters.
Let us start the journey!
  Very truly yours,
HIS WOMAN, HIS SERVANT, HIS WARRIOR Sofaith
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