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skulljackxiii · 3 years

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Total Dangan Island

Contestant No. 1.5: Izuru Kamukura

History: He came from an unremarkable home with unremarkable parents with a lifestyle that wasn’t either tragic or rewarding, therefore of course a child of this background would be nothing special. Early in his childhood the boy knew this, he knew what he could do and what other people saw him as, so he felt why bother striving for things higher if he was already expected to be average. Despite the boy's content with his life, his parents were quite the opposite, they wanted more from him. This goes beyond just parents wanting their child to have a better future out of love, rather there was more of an underlying sense of greed and envy behind their motive.

Just like their son, they were unremarkable people that came from an ordinary background, but rather accepting who they were, they wanted more. Both of them despised losing, and others even more that were gifted that could achieve things that they couldn’t. They craved acknowledgement and valor more than anything that would make them stand out and could be used to exploit their superiority onto others. But they were not deluded from reality, they knew that they didn't have the capabilities to be rewarded anything. So their next big plan was to have a child, by raising a special child that could accomplish their dreams and more, that would ultimately lead them achieving the biggest reward that any parent would want. In their minds, every parent wanted to have a child that was special or had a unique talent to them that could be used for their own benefits and almost as a desired object that most others could only ever dream of having. But their grand scheme was demolished as soon as their son was born which was just like them, unremarkable.

Years later, both parents refused to accept the truth and persistently forced the boy to practice, study, and train until they discovered what he was talented at. This was all the boy knew in his home; his face in books, exercising with various weights, and most noticeable of all was the disappointed faces of his parents who consistently berated him with lectures and complaints about him and all his flaws. This routine became so consistent that the boy became numb to it all and just saw it as part of his everyday life.

The boy always questioned why his parents were so desperate and acted the way they did, but he held no resentment towards them or anyone else. Though that didn’t mean that he wanted to uphold what they wanted or held himself in higher regards either. However, that was until he discovered this autobiography by an author that soon became this boy’s idol.

In the book it talks about how the author came from an ordinary and mundane household who was consistently underestimated and belittled by others due to his status and upbringings, but later became someone that could accomplish so much that most men could only dream of. It went onto further details that through his determination, hard work, and wit he was able to pass and overcome all challenges and diversities that came his way, thus discovering that he had innate talents that excelled in many categories. Then finally, it states that in his final moments he wanted to build an institution for young talents and give them opportunities that he was never given when he was younger. After finishing the book, the boy became infatuated with the author and adopted principles that reflected the author’s values. He soon treated the autobiography as his bible and uses it at times to help remind him of the tales of his hero that he wishes to be…”Izuru Kamukaura”.

With a fire lit in him and motivation driven to be like his idol, the boy sat down and seriously studied and trained in order to be the best. With days, weeks, and months pass by, the boy’s effort was unwavering and continued onward without stopping. His parents took notice of his change and their demeanor lightened after taking credit for their son’s sudden growth and change in attitude.

After his nonstop assault with his hard work, he finally saw results and was placed first in every academic category in his grade. Once he saw that, he felt completely different and was overwhelmed with joy after all his hard work paid off, but those feelings were nothing compared to the ones he felt once his parents found out about his results.

Despite knowing them his entire life and seeing them everyday, on that day the boy saw his parents as complete strangers to him once they knew of his achievements. Their mannerism and demeanor changed, and they showered him with praise and love for the first time in that boy’s life. The feeling was unreal to him, it was a warmth inside the boy’s chest that he never felt before in his whole life. As he continued watching his parents continue to embrace him with big bright smiles on their faces, the boy cried tears of joy and let it run down his face like a waterfall. That marked the moment when the boy knew that he wanted to preserve this feeling and maintain his parent’s affections.

As time moved forward and the boy continued his pace, his results remained in the top with no change in its order. Soon not only his parents, but teachers, relatives, and even other parents started showering the boy with praise like, “You’re amazing”, “Other kids should be like you”, “I wish my kid was like you”, and “You’re a role model”. But the praises that the boy would hear often and would stick by him the longest were “You’re so talented” and “You’re such a genius”. Those words struck the boy’s mind and filled him with such pride and confidence since those were the exact same lines used by others to describe his hero. Also the boy’s parents would often brag about their child towards everyone and explained that the boy’s exploits were only possible due to their superior parenting methods. Obviously, arrogant bragging like this would cause strain with other parents and relatives, but they had no room to interject since what they said wasn't entirely wrong. The boy had mixed feelings about what his parents were doing, but in the end he was still happy to see them so energetic and loving towards him.

Though his effort won him the affection of the adults, most of his young peers felt differently. It is because he tries so hard for results and the adults would often compare him to them, other children would feel irritated by his presence alone and start alienating him, even small acts of bullying would occur. But despite all that it didn’t affect the boy that much because he still had some friends left to play with, and his parents explained that those children were acting out due to how jealous they were since they weren’t “talented” or “special” like he was. The boy took all those words he received to heart and used them to help elevate his efforts in achieving his goal of becoming the next “Izuru Kamukura”.

But that wasn't meant to be as the phrase “all good things must come to an end”, rang in the boy’s head once he entered middle school. As soon as the boy set foot in that new school, all his previous achievements and efforts were meaningless once the boy met with real “geniuses” and “talent”, the true elites. His grades and performance kept on falling and falling until he was placed in remedial classes to help him from flunking all his subjects. Just as the boy’s performance dropped, so did everyone’s expectations of him as well. From stares of admiration to glares of disappointment, more and more people started mocking the boy for his wasted effort and even more so towards the parents after years of them bragging of how superior they were for raising such a “talented” son. Once the mockery occurred, the boy’s parents reverted immediately back to the state when the boy was small and younger; cold, disappointed, and full of dismissive complaints. Shocked by the setback, the boy refused to give up and sacrificed any means to get back what he lost. The boy discarded his remaining friends, destroyed his social life, and got rid of any meaningless free-time, all in order to use those remaining times to better himself. Alas nothing changed, the boy’s effort was wasted and not a thing has improved.

Now the boy is back where he started...no, he was in a much worse state than he was before. It’s true that his parents and everyone else around are back to thinking very little of him, but now he was completely alone and he even thinks very little of himself now. After experiencing that warmth from his parents and others, and following the footsteps of someone he admired, the boy can’t help but to feel empty and hatred for himself for not being special or talented. He would start questioning his own worth and see very little value in his own existence. There were times when the boy even thought of ending it all, but he would stop every time when he got these sudden flashes of “Izuru Kamukura” and thought about all the hardships he went through before he could achieve anything. He thanked “Izuru” every time for saving him from himself and giving him the strength to keep it together, but there was this other thought in the back of his mind if it was really right to compare himself to someone like “Izuru Kamukura”. Though he did have to overcome many difficulties, in the end he was actually talented, whereas the boy was not and was just ordinary.

A few years have passed and the boy is now of high school age, he was just another face in the background that had no one by his side. Though the boy didn’t stand out or got in anyone’s way, disdain and mockery still lingered towards him as his old peers still retells the stories about him and his past. With not much to do, all the boy did was get through it all and head straight home. At the end of the day, to no surprise there was no one there, the boy just bolted to his room and got started with his homework. His mind constantly wandered off and dreaded memories of his past, thinking up scenarios of his life where he stood out as “talented” and how content he would be with his life.

One day when the boy was reliving his past, he stumbled upon an online ad that advertised recruitment tryouts for a spinoff show of the infamous series “Total Drama” called “Total Dangan Island”. At first the boy wasn’t interested in the show or the prize since he knew of the show’s predecessor and its dangerous reputation, but there was something that caught the boy’s interest. In the ad it stated that only the top 16 most talented and capable youths of the World would be selected to participate in the contest. At that moment the boy had a sudden flash of realization, if he were to enter and win then everyone in the World, and especially to himself, would have to acknowledge that he truly is talented and special enough in order to beat the best of the best.

Once he finished recording and sending his tape audition, he went on and explained his plan to his parents. Despite the resolve he had for entering the show before, in his mind he was still scared since this show’s predecessor is known to be life threatening and is willing to endanger its participants for ratings by any means. So a part of him was hoping his parents would stop him or warn him that it was too dangerous to go out of concern for him. However they were ecstatic and were ready to pack all his things up, even though he was yet to be even nominated. The chances of him being accepted was between nonexistent to miniscule, the boy begged all his might to be let in.

After months passed by, the boy noticed a strange black and white envelope in his mailbox and tore it open. Upon reading the letter, the boy jumped in celebration as it was a congratulation letter from the show for being a following contestant. After telling the news, the boy’s parents quickly got his things together and was at the door ready to send him off. The boy was overwhelmed with various emotions clashing with one another; from joy, excitement, nervousness, terror, etc., and right before he took another step forward out the door his parents stopped him to say some final words. In the boy’s mind he was hoping to hear the words “We’re so proud of you”, “We love you so much”, or even a “Stay safe”, but all he got was “Make sure you win and get the prize.” After hearing those words, the boy’s emotions calmed down and silently nodded back at his parents in response. The boy then turned forward and walked away, at that point the boy was determined to win at any cost so he could finally put to rest all his fears and doubts and prove to everyone, especially himself, that he is worth at least something.

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Bio/Extra Info: (Read Previous Bio) Early on in the competition during one of the first Challenges, Hajime and the rest of his team lost one of its members. They all agreed to scatter to go look for her, but there was no luck. It became hopeless until Hajime finally spotted her in the deepest parts of the island. As he went after and finally caught up to her, he noticed that they were at a strange location that was like a gravesite for dangerous and decaying machinery.

It was the Dump Pit, a junkyard area where all Monokuma's prototypes and rejected ideas were all discarded to rot away (obviously this was all done without Monomi's knowing). As he was about to reach out to her, the ledge that they both stood on crumbled. Once they fell and got closer to the site, they landed on this strangely-colored puddle that was leaking from something that looked like a large battery, some in particular landed on Hajime’s eye, and they were covered by this terrible chemical smell that almost seemed like it devoured any clean air surrounding the area. In a panic, both team members quickly got out of the site and escaped from the forest together without any visible harm done to them. After thoroughly inspecting themselves they found nothing that was wrong, at first.

After a course of a few weeks, Hajime’s eye continuously got worse as it became more bloodshot red and throbbing profusely, in which he could receive massive headaches that would cause him to collapse onto the ground. In that state, all his fears and doubts would loop in his head constantly, then during that he would hear a faint voice telling him something. He could never make out what the voice said and at times when he was about to decipher it, the headaches would stop and so would the voice alongside it.

Then one morning when he woke up, he noticed that all the pain was gone though was surprised when he got to a mirror to check his eye. He saw that the pupil of his left eye had completely turned red, upon the mirror he saw a figure standing behind him in the mirror. In a scared panic, he quickly turned around and asked who the stranger was, but as the stranger answered Hajime instantly recognized the voice as the same one in his head from his headaches. The stranger answered that he was Izuru Kamukura, but Hajime had a hard time believing that since Izuru was long dead and that he looked nothing like him. In fact the stranger actually resembled Hajime who dressed up ruggedly as Izuru Kamukura.

Hajime cautiously reached out to this Izuru, but he phased through him and immediately jumped back away from him. When Hajime asked what he was, Izuru took a pause and thought deeply about that question. After a couple seconds, after analyzing all the clues and data from Hajime’s memories, he concluded that he was a separate persona that was conjured by his psyche. As Hajime was dumbstruck to the possibility, Izuru continued theorizing that after being exposed to all that chemical waste has created this strainful chemical imbalance in his brain. The area that was mostly affected was amygdala, which controls fear and anxieties, thus causing all those serious headaches he had up until now.

In order to answer and compensate for all his doubts and anxiety, his psyche has created a whole new personality that embodied all his desires and wishes, thus creating this Izuru Kamukura that stood in front of him. After the explanation, Hajime was taken aback and shocked by what he heard. After that’s been done and over, now all that’s left is for Hajime to decide what he’s going to do with his whole new roommate in his head.

(Hajime’s) Goal: (Read Previous Goal) Same as before.

(Izuru’s) Goal: He is indifferent, he doesn’t care about the game, prize, or anything of that matter. He only acts or takes control over the body only when Hajime requests his help or allows it. Izuru could process images in an instant, has access to 100 percent of his brain, and was in complete control of every single strand of tissue that composed his body. Until Hajime calls for him, he’ll just stand on the side and watch him go through huddles and other challenges. Since Izuru views himself as a perfect being that could do no wrong, which makes his existence boring and meaningless, he finds watching others struggle to achieve their goals, despite their flaws and imperfections, a bit intriguing and entertaining.

#tdi #total drama #total drama island #danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa 2 #dr2 goodbye despair #DR #fanart #au #izuru #izuru kamukura #kamukura project #hajime hinata #hajime #hinata

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 4 years

Text

His Prophet

BTS

Kim Taehyung/Reader [F]

Genre: God AU, romance, fantasy, protective Taehyung, arranged marriage vibes (kinda), kingdoms and castles, and medieval aspects dotted around, royal au sorta

Words: 9.8k

Warning(s):(Y/n is pushed around in one scene, is that a warning?)

a/n: go ahead and blame the GDA for this (and I was listening to creepypastas during work and one particular story’s ending twist inspired me in a non-spooky way). Also, I’d like to say it took 20 minutes for me to find a photo that wasn’t rejected by my computer to make this godforsaken banner.

summary: The royal Sun God of Navern is a complete recluse; the polar opposite of what one would immediately assume of the God of the Sun should be. Being the only God in his kingdom, he stayed within his castle walls- or at least it is assumed. Staff and servants of the palace only see him occasionally in the halls or peering out into the gardens. It was the dreams of one certain townswoman who worked in a small library that he happens to run into one night that changes everything.

The Kingdom as Navern was a prosperous kingdom, even if smaller in comparison to other neighboring kingdoms. Of it’s few larger cities and small towns, the capital city and home of the Navern Palace was named Vicious. The city was home to all sorts- merchants, blacksmiths, traveling priests and devoted followers of the kingdoms single God; any occupation or profession one would think of, it would probably be found in Vicious.

However, what one thing masses defined as unordinary was a woman who could read and write and who was just as intelligent as a man living in a run-down, two-story library.

The bottom floor of the brick build and metal-framed building was filled with bookshelves upon bookshelves of books of all kinds. Fantasy and children books, adult novels of fiction and non, and documentation of the kingdom’s history. Encyclopedias and thick bricks books of words and information that- if it had the right reader- could suck them in with knowledge.

The top story was closed off from the public. Small living space was where the family of the library lived when the store was closed. A small living room with only two rooms and the kitchen was right off the far wall of the living room, not even a wall to separate the two. It was small, but cozy for the small family of three.

In the past, this small library with two small step stools for high shelves and one small ladder used to belong to an old man and his wife. They had a small child, a little girl when the couple was early into their middle-aged years. As that little girl grew up, her father taught her to read and write and would often raise her as if she were a son. She still wore the suffocating dresses and low heeled shoes of a child as a requirement of her mother. Her father had her help him with broken shelves and squeaky doors, learning a good chunk of labor in her early years.

On the other hand, her mother still pampered her and grew her into a proper young lady. Manners and ideals of a woman and one-day future housewife. Cooking, cleaning, chores, shopping, sewing and all the factors that lead to proper womanhood. Oddly enough, that little girl didn’t mind all the things she was taught.

All her talents in both ladylike behavior and otherwise was an opportunity to learn. And if the girl had anything it was craving for knowledge. She greatly enjoyed reading on the downtime she had and would often recommend books to the boys in her grade school- something she would regret as it lead to years of ridicule. She was simply too smart for a girl.

At the age of 13, this little girl lost her mother to sickness. Catching a cold was all it was, but she just got worse and worse and her father couldn’t keep up with doctor bills. Eventually, the sickness claimed the girl’s mother and it was just her father and her in the apartment and the library. 5 years later, when the girl is 18, she loses her father next.

He had been called to help damper out a raging fire in the Nothern part of the city. Some criminals had started a fire in the small prison to try and mask his escape.

The older man never came back to the library, only a messager did to tell the girl that her father had been killed pursuing the escapee. Leaving the 18-year-old young lady, leaving you, to inherit the library fully.

Things from then got painfully stressful for the better part of half a year. Managing the library and your personal life. Trying to get accustomed to running everything by yourself and not letting the snarky remarks of young men behind your back as you hammered loose bricks back into the outside bricks. Working day in and day out and also having to run errands for families in need for extra money kept you busy and balancing your schedule wore you out.

There were many times you thought about giving up the library, no matter how much you loved it. You came close so many times to that decision, but the memories of you and your family always made you rethink and keep the building in your possession. Many men had come along and tried to buy it from you to wreck it down and rebuild something else where it stood- you always declined.

Years went by and as time passed, things slid into a certain pace of ease and you were finally able to live comfortably. You were 24 years old now. Still managing your library and keeping your home in shape, you also stood as an independent woman. No man or person of romantic interest simply because you had no interest or time for a partner at the moment. Besides, the men in the city, or at least your part of it, had no interest in a woman who threatened to be smarter than him. Bruised egos are a lethal attack to men it seemed.

However, there were a handful of women who respected you a great deal with your knowledge and ability to disregard the judgemental stares and comments from others. It wasn’t just men who sneered, but the women who were a bit too rich in both money and unrealism gave you stink eyes. Sometimes the rich women were even more threatened than the men were even when they couldn’t count anything other than bills.

You were busy restacking the shelves with books that had been returned that morning from mostly children and a few older generations. Your dress wrapped around your torso as you wore your corset, looser than a lady should, and the skirt hitting your ankles. You dusted your hands off with each finished task on the white apron tied around your waist. Small, brown, worn-out flats covering your feet. Working all day with heels just would not suffice. Your hair wrapped around your head in tied upbraids. Uncomfortable, but out of the way.

You were more tired than the day before from the dream you had last night. The dream wasn’t frightful per se, but something about it made you jolt awake. Each time you went back to sleep, the same dream came back and the same dream woke you up. It was hours before dawn when you decided to forget any further sleep and just get up. An early start to the day wouldn’t be so bad. It gave you time to take books off shelves and clean them only to restock them- a task tedious but long overdue.

The dream was one set in your city, the city of Vicious. In fact, in each dream you were outside, just walking around running some sort of errand for the local older woman or fetching medicine for the bedridden old gentleman for a small bit of money. And in each new errand and each new dream, you kept seeing the same people and the same faces you had grown up knowing. However, it’s one person’s stature that always caught you off guard.

The wore a brown, long robe with the hood always flipped up. Masking their face and hiding their body, just walking down the path like every other citizen of Vicious. You would always unconsciously think of them as a traveling beggar from some other town in Navern. It was when the hooded figure moved to seemingly lift their head to look towards you when you always jolted awake. Perhaps it was your brain trying to tell you that you woke up because whatever person that hooded figure was, wasn’t someone you had seen before. Without a proper face to register, you just woke up to avoid it altogether.

You never got a fearful or unsettling feeling in your dreams or afterward, so you didn’t think too much of it. However, it wasn’t just that night you had that dream. It was present the night after and further on. Night after night it was all sorts of different dreams with different errands and different people, but that one cloaked beggar always was present. Still not giving you a feeling of discomfort, but the reoccurrence of this dream made you halfway convince yourself to spend some saved up money on a doctor’s trip.

It’s that night when you contemplate medical aid that you had a dream set in a doctor’s den. Sat in his dinky little office, but instead of a face, the doctor had a long mask on. In fact, the whole doctor wasn’t even human, but a giant, humanoid raven with black feathers and dressed in a tailcoat of the most wealthy bank owner. Waking from that dream with a shiver and a line of sweat down your spine, you might actually consider that one a nightmare.

You decided at nearly midnight to go out and clear your head with a walk. It was a late and dangerous time for a woman to be out, but the idea of sleep made you shiver. Maybe some time to clear your head in the quiet nighttime would help ease you.

Changing from one of your father’s old shirts that you wore to bed every night into your least flattering skirt and small poet’s blouse, you threw a shawl over your shoulders. Not even bothering to tie your hair back. It wouldn’t be a long stroll, just one to breathe in the clean air and take in the silence. When you looked out your window, you smiled as you saw the moon shining brightly overhead- even though it was only halfway through the new moon cycle. It would light your path along with the small patterns set outside homes for those who had late-night workers as part of their family.

Inside Navern Palace dwelled the Sun God of Navern, Luos. Luos was a God who was revered and respected, even as a shut-in God. He ruled and took care of his kingdom from the comfort of his palace walls. Any word he needed to hear of, he’d turn to his Water Mirror, a vase with a wide mouth and filled with water. A few taps of Luos’s fingertips against the water, causing ripples and he could see to the furthest reach of his precious kingdom.

He did love him home. Navern was were he grew up as a human with a different, human name when the kingdom was first birthed. His devoting to his home was what caught another God’s eye- the supreme God of all that was known. When he died as a young man due to his efforts in fighting in a long war, the Ruler God revived him as something far greater than human and giving him the new name of Luos and the insignia of a butterfly. Thought, he never forgot his original name- and he refused to abandon it altogether. It would be like throwing the long memories of his deceased parents away and he absolutely would not do that. His original name stayed solely with him as he lived as Luos.

Luos was not always a shut-in, in fact, he used to be rather outgoing and always spoke and hopped around from town to town among his kingdom. But, many years ago, something changed and all of a sudden he closed his doors for good. He wouldn’t set foot outside palace walls and on some days his palace servants couldn’t even get him to go out into the gardens full of sunflowers he so much loved.

He’d been this way for nearly 20 years now. Only the oldest in Vicious have a vague memory of their royal God walking the streets.

It was never announced as to why Luos locked himself away into his own prison. There had been no wars, no famine. Crime had been on the lower side of the scale and he had no negative reputation with his people that was noted. However, he still made the ironclad decision and his people could do nothing to change his mind.

However, it was nearly two weeks ago that he started to question his seclusion. He had grown quite accustomed to his reclusive past couple of decades, but for the past couple weeks, he’s had this feeling gnawing at the back of his mind. He’d stand at one of his many grand windows just staring over the castle’s main gates to the rooftops of town across the thin, brick bridge that connected the castle to town over the clear watered mote surrounding his palace.

It had been a long time since he had the urge to go out and see his capital again, however recently it had been the hardest urge to suppress in his day to day, reclusive life. The Sun God himself had changed vastly from when he had first started his Godly duties. The thin, childlike innocent he used to hold in his face had matured out into a sculpted jaw and eyes that had seen many things and consumed more knowledge than humans could take in.

“Perhaps I should select a prophet,” was his constant reoccurring thought recently. The thought poured into his head one night when sleep had been actively avoiding him. He had heard in an old wise tale that when one cannot sleep, it is because someone else is dreaming of them. He questioned the truth behind that because he had not set foot outside in so long, no one had the reason to dream of him at all. He was even more confused as to why he suddenly had the compelling idea to suddenly rope in someone to be a chosen prophet.

Even when he thought about the suggestion, he could never think of a face or name that would fit the title. He felt a nagging in his chest and with each possible candidate he could choose to help spread his word and ideals, the nagging would worsen. It was as if his subconsciousness was rejecting each person he knew within the castle- almost pressuring him to go outside the palace. Perhaps he truly should. Perhaps he should go and venture out into his capital and try to see if a single one person could cure this nagging that had begun to irritate him.

So, late at night when the castle was quiet, he dressed in slacks, shirt, and cloak before he left. Walking out of his room and throw the abandoned halls to the back gates of the palace, rounding around the entire castle to avoid as many guards as possible. If he were seen leaving, the guards would most definitely make a fuss about it and the gossip would spread from Navern’s farthest board lined town before dawn. As far as anyone else was concerned, he still hadn’t stepped foot outside the palace perimeter.

The moment his feet hit the loose dirt from across the mote’s bridge, he took a sharp breath. It was like his soul had missed this feeling of his cities roads. He felt at home already, even after all this time. He flipped up his hood, hiding his pitch-black hair and smiled as he stepped onward once more, a joyous hop in his step. The moon named Selene, guiding his way forward. He looked up at her bright surface and smiled a silent thanks for invisible guidance. The moon was always motherly towards him.

Selene says she doesn’t play favorites, but Luos was definitely a favorite- even if she denies it.

Your stroll outside was a quick as you wished it to be. You walked to the wishing well of stone of ice-cold water in the center of Vicious as you sat on the thick stone of it. The sounds of the water calmed you and the area chilled your skin even beneath your shawl enough to raise your skin in gooseflesh. The wind blew slightly in small wisps, making you unattractively breathe in strands of your hair.

Fed up with it, you took the loose tied around your wrist you carried with you everywhere and began to sloppily tie your hair back at the low of your neck. Not very tight, but enough to keep it from entering your mouth and causing you to gag or choke again.

It was very bright out for it being the middle of the night. Part of you regretting now bring a book out with you. You could easily read a chapter or two with the moon’s brightness this night. You half contemplated going back home only to come back to the fountain and do just that when a small gasp sounded behind you.

Jumping to your feet and whipping around, you were met with a cloaked figure with their hood flipped up. You gasped lightly yourself. It was just like your dreams and now you half expected yourself to bolt awake at home in bed. You clenched your eyes shut, expected your mattress to be pushed against your back any moment, but nothing happened. You still breathed the fresh air, still heard the fountain’s water, and still felt the chilly air of the nighttime.

You squinted your eyes open just a sliver, still seeing that cloaked figure across the fountain. You squeezed your eyes closed against and reached under your shawl to your shoulder and pinched your skin. The top trick in the books, if you want to wake up from a dream, pinch yourself.

“Why are you hurting yourself?” You gasped as your eyes shot open. You had been so preoccupied with yourself that you didn’t even hear this cloaked stranger walk over to stand in front of you. Their deep voice had a silky tone to it and it was most definitely a male’s voice. He stood so close to you, nearly toe to toe and yet you still could not see him under his hood. Just like the dreams, his cloaked figure had no fae you could see. However, you’d never heard them speak before, so perhaps this was some sort of lucid dream? “Miss?” He spoke again.

“I, um, I’m trying to wake up,” you dumbly replied. A reply which made his shoulders shift- the only physical thing you could see as a response to your words. You then heard a small, low chuckle from beneath his hood.

“Are you trying to say that you’re sleepwalking?”

“Perhaps, I’ve been known to do remarkable things before,” you unconsciously spoke back in a teasing manner. You then remembered that to most, and almost all, you weren’t supposed to speak to men so highly. You were a woman of independence and held your head high despite your differences of other women, but the lessons of manners from your mother flooded back into your head. You quickly took a step backward, leaning back and away from the stranger and covered your mouth with your fingertips. “I apologize for my tone!”

The stranger quickly lifted his hand to his chest, palm towards you. His cloak opened to show what seemed like black pants and a white shirt beneath it. Boots tucked into his trousers. You partial hoped he wouldn’t raise his hand higher and demand more respect like many, entitled men would without hesitation.

“There is no need to apologize!” He quickly dismissed. He lowered his hand back down, his cloak closing back again at his front. His pushed forward chest straightened back down as he saw you relaxed slowly but surely. “Why are you running about the city so late at night, Miss?”

You bit back the urge to ask him the same thing in return but knew better than to avoid your basic ladylike manners again. You cleared your voice, straightening back up.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping for a while now. I thought that perhaps the night air would help clear my mind.” You didn’t hear the small gasp he took in.

“Trouble… sleeping?” You nodded towards him, brow raised at his curious tone. He cleared his throat. “When did your trouble begin? Perhaps if you talk about it, it would help.” You contemplated his offer. A listening ear of a stranger who offered willingly was far easier and cheaper than visiting a local doctor. You just looked up at him, head tuning in curiosity.

“Are you truly willing to listen to my late-night woes? Me, a stranger.”

The strange man turned around, backing up to the edge of the fountain and took a seat. He just looked up at you with his hidden face and offered you to take a seat beside him. You relented and even though you didn’t know who this man was and you didn’t recognize the voice as anyone you may have met before, you felt oddly calm. You sat next to him before speaking.

“I suppose it started at the beginning of the month’s moon cycle. When the moon was dark and unseen, that’s when it all began. So, a couple of weeks ago.” You fiddled with your fingers, looking at your lap instead of up at his hidden features. You missed the man’s chin drop as he suppressed the urge to push his palm against his mouth in shock. He just remained still and rotated his hand to silently tell you to continue, not trusting his voice. You sighed. “I normally sit and read before trying to sleep again, but the dreams just keep reappearing over and over again.”

“You can read?” He asked inquisitively. It wasn’t said in a disgusted tone, not even condescending. He was genuinely curious.

“I… can. My father taught me when I was young and it would be odd if a librarian lacked the skill to read her own books.” He could tell by the way he put his hands together in his lap and pushed his legs up to his toes and back down that he wanted to know more. “My father’s library in town was passed to me when he passed. My mother had already died so I had to learn to manage it on my own, but that was nearly 5 years ago now. I’ve put it behind me and it isn’t so bad as it seemed at the time.”

“I apologize for your losses,” the strange offered his condolences. “However, I’ve not known many women to read and write efficiently. Are you ridiculed for it?” He asked lightly as if trying to avoid any conversational landmines. He smiled lightly with a small huff and looked down at your hands.

“I am, very often honestly. Truth be told, I seem to provoke men and the wealthy women of the city because of my skills. I’ve tried teaching children, but their parents berate me. I’ve become deaf to their insults now, however.”

“You’re a respectable woman,” the strange told you. The compliment seemed so truthful it sent you into a small recoil. He chuckled as your reaction. “A strong, intelligent woman shouldn’t be deemed unordinary, but revered as a genius. You all weren’t’ just made for family expansion and chores. Or so, I believe.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter. You pushed your hand over your mouth, knowing it was late and if you were to wake anyone, they’d stalk into the city center with a stick or ladle, shooing the noisemaker away. You missed the small smile the stranger hid under his hood.

“I apologize,” you forced between stifled laughs. He shook his head.

“No need, I think your laugh is beautiful.”

You calmed down as you took a breath to regained your breathing. “I’m not sure where you come from, stranger, but you are vastly different from any other man I’ve met.” He was silent for a moment.

“Believe it or not, I’ve lived in Navern for many years. I’m a bit of a recluse and don’t get out much. I work from home, in a sense.”

“Is that right?” You asked, a teasing hint of skepticism.

“I swear to Luos himself,” He said, cringing at his words. You nodded. You both continued to sit and talk for a while longer before the moon had moved drastically in the sky. The stranger was soon standing, taking your hand gently to help you to your feet. His fingers seemed to linger on your skin as he let your hand go. “It’s getting far too late for a lady to be out. I’ll walk you home,” he offered with no room for rejection.

When you both stood outside your home, the stranger looked through the dark windows. The outlines of filled shelves sketching over his vision. Looking up, he saw a window, probably to your room away from your shop. You removed the thick, cooper key from around your neck that was on a rope of leather before slotting it into the door. Turning it to click it open. You turned back to the stranger.

“Thank you for your company tonight. I really did appreciate being able to speak and be myself without being sneered.” Your voice was soft and filled with genuine happiness.

“I can guarantee that your company and conversation pleased me far more than you. It has been far too long since I spoke to someone.” His voice was soft and calm, you could hear the smile on his face. “Next time, let’s talk inside and in the daylight instead of sitting outside in the cold.”

“You would come to visit me, wouldn’t you?” You teased lightly. You were shocked when he nodded immediately. “Well, if that’s the case, could I see your face?” You gently asked, not wanting to pressure him. He was still a stranger, but you felt so calm and easy about him. You just wanted to see him just once- but perhaps he would decline your request. He had his hood up this whole time without movement to lower it.

“I don’t usually show my face outside of my home,” he started and your face started to fall, “however, I think I can make this exception.” Your fae jumped back up as you bit back a smile of victory. He lifted his hands to open his cloak and grip the sides of his hood. Pushing the fabric back, your smile fell into the face of awe.

He was gorgeous. Long, black hair that brushed passed his eyes. His eyes dark but light reflected off them in specs of the most wondrous color. His hair was curled with waves and framed his face well. His jaw is wide and sharp. His voice seemed to fit his face a far better than you couldn’t have ever imagined. He chuckled at your reaction to his face. He put his hands on either side of his neck before dropping them.

“For the first time tonight, it seems you do not have any words left,” he jested.

You just licked your dry lips and hid your face, trying not to let your cheek heat too much. “May I ask one more request?”

“I suppose,” he drawled. You picked at your fingers, nails tapping together.

“May I ask your name if I offer mine back?” You gingerly looked up at him, eyes looking up first before your head lifted in follow. You could see a small jolt of hesitation at your question. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’d recognize you anywhere even without your name.” He took that as a compliment of compelling looks.

He faltered in his step as he moved to take your hand, raising it to push the back of your knuckles to his lips. His eyes closed gently as he kissed your hand, your mouth opening and your cheek flaring in the cold night breeze. He opened his eyes as you noticed that one eye had a monolid while the other was double eye lidded. He smiled widely, the purest and cutest smile you’d ever seen.

“Call me Taehyung,” he cheered lightly. He dropped your hand, as you offered your name back with a small flustered stutter. Y/n was a wonderful name and fit you perfectly. He watched you go inside and even saw your shadow trot up the back staircase to your apartment. He looked at the top window and saw a dim light of a lantern you had just lit before he smiled.

He did feel a bit guilty for not telling you the name he went by now was Luos, but Taehyung was the only name he felt he should give you. His original name was much less intimidating than the Sun God Recluse, Luos. He flipped his hood back up and made quick work of his way back to the castle. Already impatient to see you again and without him really noticing, the nagging in his chest had subsided.

It was two weeks ago when your dream started to subside. That night you spent talking with Taehyung for so long seemed to take your dreams away. You were shocked when he showed up at dusk, knowing at your library door the very next night. He claimed he couldn’t wait to see you again, so here he was. You immediately let him inside without a hassle.

You’ve been talking with Taehyung for two weeks and you greatly enjoyed everything about him. His attitude was uplifting and even when he spoke about topics that angered him, his anger was justice and the points to support his rage were solid. He was knowledgable and well versed in many things. The conversation never died with him.

You were comfortable with him, especially since he always marveled at your abilities. He watched with awe as you caught you repaired a shelf once, and nearly ate enough for four men when you cooked for him the first time. He could read well but preferred hearing you read to him, claiming to love hearing your voice.

It was no mystery how fast you were falling for Taehyung. The romance was something you didn’t think was optional for you, but Taehyung waltzed into your life at night and wasn’t a creepy serial killer. Taehyung had seriously raised your bar of men’s standards and he probably had no idea how you inside turned into mush when he showed up at your home with his giant, wide smile.

Taehyung also always only visited you when night was falling and always cloak. However, it was early in the morning once when he decided he couldn’t wait another long day to see you again. Sneaking out of the castle was harder in the morning, but possible. Still cloaked and hooded, he hid his small smile from the sun’s shadow. His smile wilted when he saw the corner of your library-home come into view.

You had just unlocked the library door and moved to put the hanging ‘open’ sign you had painted and decorated with Taehyung one night to symbolize for people to come and go as they please. He wanted to smile at the idea of you using it, but the young men around your age coming towards you made his teeth grind.

You had just hung your sign on the front window of the door on the small nail you had put on the door a few nights ago when you felt a small shove on your shoulder. Your dress today hit the ground and you nearly toppled over by stepping on the fabric. Your corset of white pushed the dress against your stomach, pushing your chest up, and your torso felt pain as you nearly bent over in the course that was tight.

You regained balance with a small huff as you adjusted your apron on your front. The two men were two fellow rude boys you had grown up with. They had yet to outgrow their childish bullying, and you doubt they were would. You figured they should just marry each other at this point. With rotten, toxic attitudes like theirs, there is no way they’d find wives.

One man, a small sprout of bone was Lix. The other was a bit broader, but no looker for sure; he was named Horan. Lix was more a verbal fighter, not having much strength when it came to fist to fist confrontation. Horan was the opposite. He was dead stupid, but his power balanced out what Lix didn’t have. It was a poetically stupid match made in some twisted heave.

Lix turned to your sign before taking it off the door and looking it over. A small frown on his face as he’s eyes squinted.

“What awful handwriting!” He crowed, even if your handwriting was a perfect script. “I knew it, women should stick to cleaning and looking after little rugrats,” he spits before he threw your sign with a flick to his right. The wooden plack spun as it descended and hit the road with a puff of dirt. You gasped lightly before you ran towards it.

Kneeling in the dirt, you picked it up, the road sticking to your fingertips and filtering under your nails in grounded, small pieces. Dirt would be pushed into your apron and you’re sure you’d have to dust it and wash it all out later. When you looked at the sign in your lap as you knelt on your knees, you recalled how happy Taehyung looked when it as down. Your eyes began to tear.

There was a small murmur of on-lookers who watched the two men push at you. You knew you had no authority to act out, even if you wanted so badly to shout at them. You’d have no ally if you did, no one stood in your corner. You were alone and the fact that everyone watching and gossiping you get pushed around didn’t move to help you, only proved your point.

You could only stamp your feet and curl your fingers around the wooden, painted ‘open’ sign as you held your tears back. Lix started marching up behind you, you could tell from the dainty footsteps he took. Horan’s was much more heavy in terms of his weight. You could feel his presence right behind you, the looming feeling of this man looking down on you. He kicked dirt at your back, debris mixing into your hair and rolling down your dresses back from the collar as you shivered at the sensation.

You felt pathetic as you just let it happen. You could feel him step closer and the shadow you saw from your side showed him reaching out towards you. You expected him to grab your hair and pull you to sit straight. You just shut your eyes in a panic to avoid anyone seeing your unshed tears.

Lix’s nasty grip never came. Instead, a near set of steps rushed from in front of you and came to halt. A shadow of someone blocking the sun from you clouded your shut eyes as you peeked them open. A pair of black boots were in front of your down casted vision. You could vague hear Lix squawking in pain before the new arriver stepped around you and shoved Lix back. You heard his ass his dirt as he whined. Horan was soon stomping to defend his attacked friend, but soon the stomping stopped.

You lifted your head, turning to your back to see who had interfered. You didn’t know of any townsfolk would who defend you. A woman who was so vastly different from others. Your mouth opened to a quivered form as your tears fell. That familiar cloak a blessing to your eyes.

“Taehyung,” you whimpered. You weren’t shocked to see him, you were just relieved to see you had someone to help you. You cried further when you realized you finally had someone in your corner. Taehyung protected you and he had flipped down his hood. His hair was even more beautiful shining off the sun. You wanted to see his eyes in this light- it was probably more breathtaking than seeing them in the candlelight of lanterns.

Horan remained still, frozen mid-charge. Taehyung glared at him and it was blood-chilling enough to freeze the unintelligent giant in his tracks and even silence the gossip of others. Some even moved to remain their work, trying to play coy as if they hadn’t witnessed the assault without assistance. Lix had picked himself off the ground, not sure where to move to, Taehyung eyes burning them into place.

“Make yourself scarce,” was all he seethed. A threat underlined in his words. Lix and Horan were quick to flee. Taehyung’s shoulders slackened as he turned to you, sitting in the dirt and holding the sign in your arms to your chest, hugging it as if it were some precious treasure. His eyebrows dipped, sad to see your tears. He moved to you, kneeling to rub his palm against your wet cheek and push his fingertips into your hair, combing out bits of dirt.

He raised his eyes over you, looking at the people still cocky enough to keep starring. He glared again. “Return to your duties and mind your business!” He yelled, everyone obeying without hesitation and soon all eyes were off you. Taehyung looked softly back at you before he gently picked you off the ground.

Walking you into your store, he took the sign and set it gently on the window sill. He locked the door once you both were inside. He rubbed your arm softly as you palmed at your eyes, trying to dry them. Taehyung moved to stand in front of you, grabbing your cheeks and bending to look into your glasses, red eyes. He rubbed your skin with his thumb, his large hand holding your head.

“Let’s not open up right now,” he whispered so softly to you. You nodded, not able to trust your voice yet. “He gently pushed his lips on your forehead, his brows crunching as he held his lips against your skin for several seconds, feeling pain in his chest from seeing your own pain. H epulled from your forehead before he grabbed your hand. “Let’s go upstairs. You have tea? I’ll make you some” You just nodded again, following him upstairs.

Taehyung spent that day with you. He cleaned your face and wiped your tears. He reassured you and made you speak your frustrations. He took care of you in a way you didn’t think a man ever would. He made you change out of your corset and set your apron in the wash bin to soak the dirt stains out. He brushed your hair out before he sloppily pinned it up. He stayed by you all day and far into the night. When you fell asleep that night, you shocked to wake up the next morning without a single dream to plague you. Even more shocking, you gasped lightly when Taehyung was sleeping in front of you, eyes shut easy and arm under his head as a pillow.

He never left your side. All that previous and all night, he was there. You cupped your mouth as a wae of resh tears spilled over the side of your face. You pushed your face into Taehyung’s neck, startling him awake as he rubbed your back.

“What’s wrong/ Tell me? Did you have a nightmare?” You just shoo your head as you hiccup. “Y/n?” You cried tears of relief and realization as you finally attempted to yourself that you were in love with Taehyung. So very much in love with him.

He left the night of day two he had been with you. He wanted to stay longer, stay forever if he could, but he knew he had to get back to the palace. One day without his appearance wasn’t odd, many assumed he was probably locke din his room. However, any longer and he feared someone would grow nosey.

He left you that night as you flushed at the kiss he pushed on your forehead. He held your hand softly before he flipped his hood up and ran off. You went back upstairs, suddenly exhausted and fell into sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the murmur outside. You rubbed your eyes, going to your window and opening it. There were people whispering with cupped hands as they pointed to your library. You assumed they were still talking about the debacle two days prior with Lix and Horan. It wasn’t until you came downstairs when you saw two people standing with their backs to the front windows of your library.

Unlocking the door and opening it, the two people turned to you. They were both men and dressed in guard uniforms. They were from the palace and part of your blood froze. Why were castle guards standing at your storefront? You swallowed as you greeted them.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greeted trying to remain calm. One stood forward, holding a spear in his arms as the tip pointed high to the sky. He seemed to be the higher rank of the duo.

“Fine morning, Miss. I do not wish to alarm you, but we have immediate orders to escort you into Navern Palace.”

“What?” You choked. You took the time to look around again. You noticed that instead of all judgmental eyes, some gazes were envious or even respectable. They looked at you like you were some higher being or had some power over them. You crunched your brow.

You were ready to talk to the guards when you felt someone run into your back, knocking you forward a step. You turned around and saw Lix, Horan in front of him his arms stretched out. The bigger man had pushed the smaller and the look Lix gave you when he saw it was you he rammed into was one of almost terror. He straightened out as he stood beside Horan, both bowing deeply towards you.

“We’re sorry!” He cried as they ran off like scared children. Your brows flicked up higher. What in the world was that? Were they scared Taehyung would show up again? You momentarily forgot about the guards until one cleared their throat to gain your attention back. The one who spoke to you scolded his underling.

“Do not force her attention by force in such a rude manner!” He shouted as you quickly hushed him.

“No! It’s fine! I’m not offended or anything.” You sighed when the higher-ranked guards only bowed to you and offered his thanks, the younger mirroring his actions. “So, I’m to go to the palace?” You asked, trying to restart the original conversation. The guards stood right up again.

“Yes, Miss. Luos has asked for you.” YOu gasped lightly.

“God Luos asked to see me?!” The guards nodded. Your mouth grew dry as you swallowed to try and find saliva. You licked your dry lips. “I- okay.” You relented. If the God of your kingdom really did request you there, you had to go. You hoped he didn’t mind librarian clothes and a slightly stained apron. You had no time to change and get ready as the guards had begun to usher you off after you locked your library door.

As you walked with the two men, you watched some children smile and wave you. Some women stared in awe at you as if they knew something you didn’t. Men looked at you in caution as if they were committing a crime if you met their gaze. What possibly could’ve happened overnight to get gazes on you in a totally different light?

The moment you crossed the brick bridge across the mote and stood at the giant gates of the palace, you looked in open-mouthed awe. The castle was a gargantuan wonder up close. It took your breath away. The sides of it were as beautiful as the Sun God it housed you were sure. The idea of you probably meeting the God of the Sun, Luos made your stomach turn. He had been silent for so long, what did he suddenly pop back into the public gossip for? And to summon you of all people in Navern?

You were lead to a wide, open, beautiful throne room. The throe at the back of the room at the end of the long, golden rug and up 4 steps of marble was empty. No God was there. You stood walking closer to the throne and taking in the fabric, patterns, and creation of it. Itw as a wonderfully beautiful chair. You gasped with enough force to knock the breath out of you when the heavy, tall doors of the throne room wheezed open again and a voice echoed behind you.

“Would you like to have a seat on my throne?” The voice so scarily familiar and you hesitated to turn around. Surely your mind was playing tricks on you. There was no way. You heard the echoing steps come closer to you as your back remained towards him. Luos was behind you, that you knew for sure- he addressed this throne you stared wide-eyed at as his after all. You felt him stop behind you, his loom presence burning at your back. “Will you not turn to look at me?” His voice was lower, quieter. You gripped your have stained apron as you took one step forward, putting distance between you and he as you then slowly stepped around to face him.

Your eyes were focused at his feet. He walked barefoot. Golden anklets around his skin. His trousers were black as they were rolled at his shins. Following his pant legs up, his white shirt was long and loose on his body. Following it up higher, you saw a golden robe of printed suns adorn his shoulders and you could vaguely see bracelets of gold wrap up his forearms like guards. A thick golden collar of jews around his neck and a crown of golden spikes sat on the crown of his head. Dramatic and much like the rays of the sun.

This was Luos and as you looked into his eyes at his face, you gasped. This was Taehyung.

“I hope the sudden call to my home wasn’t too alarming, Y/n,” he told you softly. He could see the confusion in your eyes, but you weren’t screaming yet so he considered it progress. You just stood there, gaping at him in silence. He reached out and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, making you flinch, but not back away from him. He smiled softly. “Is who I am truly that shocking?”

You didn’t know how to politely say ‘yes it fucking is shocking’, because the man you’ve been visiting with the past two weeks was a God. You gasped, taking another step backward. He rose his brow in confusion as his hand hovered in the air now. You had let the God of Navern into your rackety all home. You gazed at him in starstruck gazes for hours before. You had told him so many personal events and facts about yourself and you began to flush.

Luos, God of Navern’s Sun had picked your pushed and bullies body off the dirt road just two days ago and had stayed at your home with you alone for over 24 hours. Your cheeks grew darker.

You had fallen in love with Luos and you didn’t even know it.

Was that wrong? You started to inwardly panic. Was it against some scared law of Gods for a human woman who was clearly outcasted from her city to fall for a God? Even if it was unknown to you in the time you were falling, would it be punishable by some degree? Was that why he called you here?! Had he seen through your obvious red faces and stuttering and brought you heard to punish you for your feelings that you should or should’ve been feeling?

Taehyung stepped forward, seeing your mind start to flip. He grabbed your shoulders and pushed his lips against your forehead. Just as he had before. He closed his eyes, hoping and praying that you wouldn’t change just because of who he was. He was guilty of hiding the ruth from you, but what choice did he have? He was a shut-in God only a couple of weeks ago, but now he was determined to change it all. And he’d need the help of a prophet for that.

“Calm down, dear,” he soothed. His warm hands pushed against your covered shoulders and you did start to calm. Trying to ignore your warming ears at the endearing name. He felt you slacken after some time and moved to look at you again, stepping just a bit away from you. “Are you alright now?” You nodded. He took his hand and pushed your hair from your face to see you clearly. He smiled at your flushed cheeks. “Red is a color that suits you,” he teased.

You were silent as you looked at your feet. Biting back a ‘shut up’ because in all honesty, how do you talk to him now? Wasn’t it rude to be so direct to a Sun God. A royal God who lived in the royal palace of his own kingdom. You had to watch what you say and say it all respectfully. Taehyugn seemed to know your thoughts as you felt his thumb rub beneath your ear, his hands dipping under your jaw to lift your head up to meet his gaze.

“Do not change yourself because you see me as Luos. My name truly is Taehyung and everything I’ve told you about myself these past weeks is all truthful. I’ve never once lied and I never once will.” He dipped his eyelids, his eyes pleading with you to believe him. “I don’t want to appear different to you now, so don’t treat me any differently.”

You raised your hand to push over his that held your jaw the other staying fisted loosely around your apron. Taehyung smiled at your palm’s warmth. He watched you take a deep breath through your nose before pushing it out of your lips. You looked up at him warily.

“I won’t get punished for being blunt to a God?” You asked carefully. You were blunt, yes; but you were always careful of your words towards him. He smiled.

“Of course not. Why would you be punished if the God you’re speaking to gave you pardon?” You finally smiled a small bit. One that made Taehyung break out into a smile so large he nearly let out a small giggle at you. The way he held your jaw and squished your cheek combined with your small smile, he almost pushed dimples into your cheeks.

You both stood in silence for a while before Taehyung dropped his hands from your jaw and moved to hold your hands in his. Threading his fingers with yours. He was affectionate before, sure. He would often plop his head into your lap as you read to him and of course he slept beside you that one night he decided not to leave your side. However, his laced fingers with your brought warmth to your chest.

“Do you remember when you talked to me about your dreams that first night we met?” You nodded. “You remember when you explained that the hooded figure would always appear and you’d wake up?” You nodded again, not sure where he was going with this. “Well, I think that actually was me.” You lightly breathed in an air of confusion. “Sometimes,” he began, “humans are born with something close to supernatural powers. Some can move objects without physical touch, some can see pasts and futures of people, others can even control the mind of others. Then, there are some like you, who are shown prophetic dreams of things to come.”

“Come to think,” you started with a raising brow, “my dreams did stop after that first night we met. I just thought it was because I finally talked about them. However, you’re saying-”

“I believe you were meant to have those dreams and you were meant to meet me that night. That night I felt like I met someone I was always destined to. Prior to that, I had this nagging in my chest,” he lifted his hand to push against his torso, “and it compelled me to go out into town. It cannot be coincidental that I met you that and the nagging abandoned me.”

Taehyung stopped his talking before he looked over your shoulder. He took your intertwined hands and moved to drag you towards his throne. Helping you to not trip up the marble steps, he soon stood with you at his throne of gold. He held your hands tightly.

“Navern is my precious kingdom I care so much for. I’ve had my time of being reclused and I need to go back into my kingdom and reclaim it with new eyes. I cannot do that on my own. I need someone to help me and to help keep me balanced and straight. They will also help keep my words strong to my people who believe in me and my Sun.” He took a deep breath before he removed on hand from yours and took to his pocket, pulling a scarlet red sash from his trousers that had a hair comb wrapped inside of it.

It was a beautiful piece. A golden frame with solid, silver teeth with gaps made to avoid severe tugging of the hair. You slowly reached out with the hand not held by Taehyung as you ran your fingers over its heavy glory.

“It’s beautiful,” you told him as he smiled.

“I know. It belonged to my mother. A long, long time ago.” You looked up at him with a bit of sadness in your eyes. You knew how he loved his parents, he had told you all about them one night and got a bit more emotional than he’d like to admit recalling so many memories. “I want you to have this now.”

“What?” You breathed.

“Y/n,” he put the comb and it’s scarlet fabric in your open palm before he brought your other hand up to sandwich the comb in your hands. His hands around your own before he lifted them to his forehead. “I want you to help me regain the social regime I have let die. I want you to wake up in this palace day by day with me. I want you to stay here and use this comb as you stay with me as my chosen Prophet.” His voice cracked like he was going to cry admitting it all. “I’ve never-,” he took a breath, “I’ve never been in love before. I died too young so long ago I never experienced it. However, I know now I’m positive that I’m falling in love with you.”

Your breath was sucked out of your lungs like a vacuum because of his words. “Do,” you started small, gaining his attention as he looked at you, lowering your hands back down, still holding them tightly. The comb’s cold material warming in your palms. “Do you really mean all of that?” You squeaked.

He nodded so quickly as he took a step closer. His nose was inches from you as he looked down at you. His feet stood between your shoes as he looked back and forth between your eyes. He truly was a beautiful man. “Yes. I swear, I-I mean everything.” He was so fearful you’d say no to him. What would he do if you left this palace and didn’t take his words with you? Would he still be able to visit you in town at the library? Would you avoid him? Shun him? He was scared of the negatives.

“What would happen to the library?” You asked softly. He knew it was important to you. Rundown and aged, yes, but it’s the place you spent your life with your family before they were gone. Taehyung wouldn’t let anything happen to that small, cramped home of yours. He loved it just as much as you. It’s where he spent so much time with you and learned so much about you. Where he ate with you and comforted you and slept beside you.

Taehyung loved that library.

“I’d keep it safe. I don’t want anything to happen to that library or your apartment you claim. It’s so precious to me now. I’d make sure no one got inside it to vandalize or. Nothing would happen to it and I’d keep it safe from ruin. If something is weak, I’d work to rebuild and fix it.”

“You’d do that for a small library when you have such a grand castle?”

“In a heartbeat. That’s the place I got to spend so many memories with you,” he softly admitted out loud. “You don’t need to agree to my request,” he told you, heartbreak in his voice. He wouldn’t force his wishes on you, no- never would he do that.

You slowly pulled your hands from his, opening your palms to see the golden comb in all it’s beauty again. You then handed it to Taehyung, having him hold it as you unraveled your messy, braided hair. Holding locks of it ver your shoulder, you looked at him and smiled.

“Can such a comb even brush such messy hair?” Taehyung’s face nearly split in two at the smile that erupted into his face. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, lifting you off your feet and toes to hold you so tightly. YOu felt his chest breathe heave, relieved sighs. He set you back down on your feet.

He moved to kiss you again, but not on the forehead. No, this time his lips fell beneath your eye. He kissed you and when he pulled his lips from your skin a small mark had begun to outline onto your skin. Shining with golden light before forming the shape of a butterfly, his insignia animal. He smiled again as he moved to sit you down into his throne.

He then moved to kneel in front of you, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles much like the night he first met you when he left you for the first time. He kissed your knuckles before he smiled up at you with his innocent, childlike smile.

“We’ll have to get you accustomed to the castle, my dear,” he giggled. He began to lead you to a room of seamstress servants to exchange your ordinary librarian clothes with fine, silk robes of the Sun’s golden glow.

The only thing he kept secret from you now, was the fact that not only were you his Prophet, he also may have told the townspeople that if they mess with his fiance and future wife again, he, the God Luos would not be pleased. Of course, you didn’t have to know you were engaged quite yet.

a/n pt.2 - Tell me all what you think! I spent 5 hours writing this in one sitting and I’m pretty proud of it ngl. So lmk!!

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ratingtheframe · 3 years

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Lights, camera, lockdown! All the films I watched at home this November.

Last month, the UK went on a one month down lockdown, causing cinemas to shut and new releases to be put on hold.

In fact, Christopher Nolan’s Tenet was the only multi million dollar film to be released this year. It’s painful to think that Dune was supposed to be released almost two weeks from now and that we have to wait several months to see the sci fi film hit screens. Despite the post poned releases and closing of cinema chains, there are still some great films I hadn’t seen and used last month as an opportunity to look into them. Even though I didn’t see as much as I did in October, the quality of the films I managed to see this month is high.

His House (2020) as seen on Netflix

Starting off reasonably well with this horror brought to you by Netflix that centers the life around two immigrants and a spirit haunting the new lives they’re trying to build in the UK. It’s certainly a new perspective that I haven’t seen in horror and definitely isn’t a film for the fainted hearted for some of the scenes in this are genuinely terrifying. The overall message was thought provoking and poignant as it sort of spoke for those who’ve lost their lives attempting to seek asylum and those whoa are still struggling to find a new home.

His House is available to watch on Netflix. Score: 9/10

Nobody Sleeps in the Woods Tonight (2020) as seen on Netflix

Definitely one of the most surprisingly good films I watched this month, Nobody Sleeps in the Woods Tonight is a classic Netflix horror from Poland. The film follows a group of Polish teenagers addicted to social media who are sent to a camp to curb their addiction. However, when on a hike through the woods, one of the teens goes missing and without a phone to call for help, the kids are forced to face two grotesque monsters feeding upon humans. From start to finish, this film was highly entertaining and had a good structure to it. There were no gimmicks or cliches and it’s definitely a film I’d recommend to just about anyone.

Nobody Sleeps in the Woods Tonight is available to watch on Netflix.

Score: 10/10

The Ring (2002) as seen on BBC iPlayer

Gore Verbinski’s (A Cure for Wellness, Pirates of the Caribbean) infamous horror is a cult classic and must watch for scary movie fans. Usually horror films can be too gimmicky and borderline cringey without an ounce of substance to them. However, The Ring is surprisingly good in that it possesses a deep narrative with three dimensional characters, good acting and wonderful direction. When a journalist’s (Naomi Watts) niece dies in unknown circumstances, she embarks on a journey to discover a horrifying tape that if watched, kills you in a week’s time. The box office sales for this film speaks for itself seeing as the film made nearly $130 million when it was released back in 2002. The Ring is certainly not for the faint hearted, so if horror isn’t your thing, I’d advise you stay well away from it.

Score: 9/10

Misery (1990) as seen on Netflix

Stephen King’s Misery is turned into an unsettling thriller starring Kathy Bates and James Caan. Author Paul Sheldon (James Caan) ends up getting caught in a snow storm, that seems his car veer off the road, leaving him in a critical state. However, a seemingly caring and selfless woman, Annie (Kathy Bates) takes him in, using her work as a nurse to care for him. It turns out that Annie is a super fan of Paul’s work and the care she has for him soon turns nasty and sadistic, leaving Paul in a panicked state for he is in the middle of nowhere with a practical psychopath. I wouldn’t say Misery is one of best adaptations of King’s novels. There are better pieces of work by Stephen King that have been made into movies such as IT, The Green Mile and 1922. The pace was quite slow and the fact that it took place in only one settling detracted from the progression of the film. However, it’s entertaining, well cast and had a decent story to it.

Score: 7/10

Drive (2011) as seen on Amazon Prime

Drive is 1000% one of the best films I’ve seen this year, in my entire life in fact. It’s incredibly bold, ambitious, vivid, subtle and heart wrenching at moments. A stunt driver (Ryan Gosling) is torn between the world of crime he partakes in and the love he has for a young woman (Carey Mulligan) that lives in the apartment next door to his. The subtlety and sensitivity that both Gosling and Mulligan brought to this film was so pure and authentic to their characters, whilst bringing an underlying sadness to the entirety of the film. By the end of the film you want to cry but aren’t sure why and these sorts of films are rare to find. The sound track and SFX in this are unreal, again adding to the confirmation that this film is one of a kind.

Score: 12/10

Time (2020) as seen on Amazon Prime

I was delighted to see Amazon Prime had put this straight onto their service seeing as I’d missed out on Time during the London Film Festival two months ago. This is one of the most moving and deep pieces of work I’ve seen this year. Time is a documentary filmed over 20 years that details the life of a woman trying to seek justice for her husband who was put in prison for life for armed robbery. Not only is she fighting for her husband, but also her four sons, two of which weren’t even born when their father was put away in jail. Fox Rich lives in Louisiana, one of America’s toughest states when it comes to the criminal justice system. Sentences are of some of the highest in the entire country and are especially harsher to people of colour. Fox and her husband took the fatal and desperate decision to rob a bank in a bid to support their business and family. This drastic choice took Fox’s husband away from his family and for 2 decades, Fox spent time trying to get her husband out of jail. The thing that moved me the most about this documentary was her sons; four beautiful, smart and driven men who grew up without a father. It made me wonder how proud Fox must be of her kids and to see her fight for her husband and remain loyal to him is enough love to last two lifetimes.

Time is available to watch on Amazon Prime now.

Score: 10/10

The Departed (2006) as seen on DVD

Throughout this two and a half hour film I was wondering how they had managed to get Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, Alec Baldwin and Mark Wahlberg to do a film together. And the answer is that this epic and high profile movie was directed by the infamous Martin Scorsese. It’s a mystery why I hadn’t seen this film sooner, seeing as it was a huge hit during its release making a staggering $291 million worldwide during its release. This is definitely DiCaprio’s best film (next to Revolutionary Road and The Revenant) and his performance was incredibly punchy and strong throughout. Everyone in this film was top class and the dialogue fitted well with each character with a natural story progression throughout. A top notch, Hollywood, must watch film.

Score: 10/10

Murder by Numbers (2002) as seen on Amazon Prime

One of Ryan Gosling’s earliest films follows two high school students committing a sadistic murder simply to see just how it feels. Detective Cassie Mayweather (Sandra Bullock) is put on the case to solve the murder and quickly pieces the case together, leading her to Richard Haywood (Ryan Gosling) and Justin Pendleton (Michael Pitt) two students at the same high school. I wouldn’t say this film was bad, however the ending played a big part in the overall quality of the film. It had a good pace and characters, however the ending definitely let down the film for it was rushed and unaligned to the rest of the film. Ryan Gosling’s performance at the tender age of 22 was pretty decent and definitely stated to everyone else his ability as an actor for years to come.

Score: 7/10

All Good Things (2010) as seen on Amazon Prime

As you can tell by now, I went on a Ryan Gosling whip this month. All Good Things is the true story of David Marks (Ryan Gosling), whose wife Katie (Kirsten Dunst) disappears and still to this day, has never been found. Marks was the prime suspect in the disappearance case but was never found guilty and lives a free man. Even though the story was interesting and the performances good, the fact this is a Weinstein Company Film made it hard to watch, especially with the totally unnecessary nudity and sex scenes that put Kirsten Dunst at its forefront. The film lacked a clear resolution and was left completely open ended like the case of Katie Marks, which is understandable, however not when it comes to making a good film.

Score: 6/10

Borat (2006) as seen on Amazon Prime

After finding the second Borat film to be highly entertaining, I decided to watch the first one and was certainly not left disappointed. The first Borat film introduces us to Kazakstan reporter Borat Sagdiyev (Sacha Baron Cohen) and his first visit to America, whilst taking in all the americanisms to report back to his own country. Soon his pursuit turns to Pamela Anderson whose doing a book signing across in California. The comedy has many jaw dropping moments and sees Cohen above and beyond the boundaries of comedy to bring the character of Borat to life.

Score: 10/10

Boy Erased (2018) as seen on Sky Cinema

If there’s one film worth watching on this list, it’d be Joel Edgerton’s Boy Erased. This film is the product of a real understanding of film language and the ability to make a beautiful and heart felt story. Edgerton is a well known actor, but has taken time to go behind the camera as well as in front of it in this Golden Globe nominated picture starring the likes of Lucas Hedges, Russell Crowe, Nicole Kidman, Troye Sivan, Xavier Dolan and Joe Alwyn. Like HELLO if that cast isn’t making you immediately turn off this site right now to find Boy Erased, then I don’t know what will. The film based on a true story follows Jared Eamons (Lucas Hedges) and his time spent at a gay conversion centre with fellow homosexuals Gary (Troye Sivan) and Jon (Xavier Dolan). Jared’s father (Russell Crowe) is a pastor he and his wife (Nicole Kidman) take their religion rather seriously, which is why Jared has been forced to seek help for his sexuality. It’s a hard concept to swallow, especially in this day and age when most parents, religious or not, are starting to become more acceptable of their children’s sexuality. This film exposes the reality beyond that and how some parents feel their child is damaged by something completely normal and feel the need to seek help for it. Boy Erased is made with sensitivity and beautiful acting from an a class cast. All round, it’s a perfect film.

Score: 11/10

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (2009) as seen on Amazon Prime

I was a little confused starting this film to see it in Swedish, as I thought I was watching the David Fincher film of the same title. However, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was original a book and the first adapation of it for film was directed by Niels Arden Oplev, two years before Fincher made his version, starring Rooney Mara and Daniel Craig. However, the fact that this version was in Swedish didn’t detract from the thrilling story spun onto screen. The three hour movie follows a journalist whose been hired to solve the mystery of a missing girl who is part of a high profile family. A young female hacker who once hacked the journalist and practically ruined his career, joins him along the way and the pair of them uncover a long string of untold secrets that see blood being split amongst numerous women. It’s one of the best thrillers I’ve ever seen and a must watch if you enjoyed Fincher’s version.

Score: 10/10

Still Alice (2014) as seen on DVD

A highly anticipated film on my part, Still Alice is an arresting and moving film about a mother struggling with on set Alzheimers. Julianne Moore scooped up a Best Actress Award at the Academy Awards in 2015, a Golden Globe and a BAFTA for her performance as Dr Alice Howland and her battle with Alzheimers at the age of 50. Kristen Stewart plays her daughter and Alec Baldwin her husband and their performances are equal to Julianne Moore’s. Overall, this was a touching piece that had soooo much depth to it and yet carried a satisfying simplicity throughout it.

Score: 10/10

Enemy (2013) as seen on DVD

I heard about Enemy’s synopsis via a YouTube video and was throughly excited to watch it on hearing it was directed by Denis Villeneuve, a master director when it comes to thrillers and sci fi films. Even though Enemy was difficult to fully interpret, I still enjoyed the story and performance Jake Gyllenhaal brought to the table as a man who meets another man that looks exactly like him. There’s some pure mind fuckery that plays throughout the film as you’re left questioning who is this other man or if there are even two men at all. If anything, it’s an exploration of a man having a double life, wrapped up in some sinister secrets and tied between two women. All of Denis Villeneuve’s work is exceptional and Enemy is no different. A must watch for thriller lovers.

Score: 10/10

A Star is Born (2018) as seen on DVD

Bradley Cooper’s A Star is Born certainly wins the award for making me cry the most this month. The last version I saw of this film starred Judy Garland and James Mason and was centred around a musical actress and the rocky relationship she had with her actor husband. That 1954 version possessed a lot of brilliance and it was easy to compare it to the more modern version starring Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga. Who would’ve thought these two could be such an authentic on screen couple? The songs, the lyrics and the acting that these two brought to this picture was on another level, it was incredible from start to finish. Obviously the fact that this film had been done 4 times before honed the quality of the film, however Bradley Cooper’s direction and ability to bring out the best in Lady Gaga definitely makes this version of A Star is Born the best one yet. This directorial debut was nominated for 8 Academy Awards including Best Picture and Lady Gaga was handed the award for Best Music for a motion picture. Warning: you will cry whilst watching this or at least afterwards.

Score: 12/10

Sorry to Bother You (2018) as seen on Netflix

Netflix certainly came through this month when it put Boots Riley’s fanatical dark comedy Sorry to Bother You on its streaming service. It’s honestly like nothing I’ve ever seen before and the innuendo and hidden messages within this film make it something that you can watch several times and never get bored of. Cassius Green (Lakeith Stanfield) gets a job as a telemarketer who gets promoted to a “power caller” and through pride and greed, ends up abandoning his ideologies and friends completely. The film speaks for the gentrification of Oakland, California and capitalistic society we live in today. There are many hidden messages amongst the film that at first are hard to decipher, but soon you realise these messages are as clear as day within our own society. Lakeith Stanfield stars alongside Tessa Thompson, Steve Yeun and Armie Hammer, not a cast you’d usually put together but one that certainly worked. Sorry to Bother You is highly entertaining and will definitely make you laugh out loud at points and have you questioning your laughter right after.

Score: 10/10

The Florida Project (2017) as seen on DVD

I’m starting to think that films made between 2017 and 2018 are some of the best ever made and the Florida Project falls into that. I heard about this film through one of my favourite actors and was glad for the recommendation as this film is one of the best I’ve seen all year. The colours and character dynamics are strong and vivid throughout, as we follow the lives of people living on an apartment complex whilst speaking for the child poverty that plagues American society today. Willem Dafoe, who plays the complex’s handy man and security guard, even earned himself a Best Supporting Actor Award at the 2018 Academy Awards.

Score: 10/10

Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind (2014) as seen on DVD

Usually I’d pass on a Charlie Kaufman film, seeing as they make no sense, however I felt that it was time I delved into this cult classic starring Kate Winslet, Jim Carrey, Kirsten Dunst, Mark Ruffalo and Elijah Wood. It’s a really well made film with a clear and distinct message to it that’s represented in some phenomenal filmmaking techniques. The plot line of this film follows a man trying to erase a past lover and his memories of her get wiped away physically before your eyes on screen. This film is certainly a conversation starter and one I’d recommend to just about anyone.

Score: 9/10

Moonrise Kingdom (2012) as seen on DVD

Wes Anderson’s wonderful mind is depicted in this endearing narrative about two children running away from home. This has to one of Wes Anderson’s most iconic films and next to The Grand Budapest Hotel, it’s definitely one of the films you think of when you think of Anderson’s work. His work is known for having well rounded stories, beautiful shots and A List casts, with Moonrise Kingdom being no expection as Anderson manages to squeeze Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, Bill Murray, Frances McDormand, Jason Schwartzman, Harvey Kietel and a young Lucas Hedges into this film. If you’ve seen any of Wes Anderson’s work and not Moonrise Kingdom, get on it now. No, seriously, now.

Score: 10/10

Jarhead (2005) as seen on DVD

Sam Mendes’ war film starring Jake Gyllenhaal and Jamie Foxx translates the lives of US soldiers in Iraq onto screen and the brain washing their government has done to boost the importance of the US military and the service soldiers are doing to their country. Jake Gyllenhaal’s execution in this film is a reflection of his ability as a great actor. He always has this patient and gritty approach to his work that makes him addicting to watch on screen. There’s an entire video on YouTube about Jake Gyllenhaal’s eyes and the way they communicate his emotions on screen. This is certainly present in Jarhead, as the anger, frustration, disappointment and despair is held within Jake Gyllenhaal’s eyes throughout. Jarhead was originally a memoir written by a US solider named Anthony Swofford. The only thing I wasn’t a fan of was the open ended resolution to the film and the stagnant progression of Jake Gyllenhaal’s character. He literally didn’t achieve anything, which I suppose is the point of the film and how the honour that soldiers who went to Iraq were supposed to feel, is more of a fantasy than a reality.

Score: 9/10

Silence (2016) as seen on BBC iPlayer

This film was truly summit else and a refreshing turn on genre from highly acclaimed filmmaker, Martin Scorsese. Silence certainly proved that he has the ability to be more sensitive with his films and can tells stories outside his usual New York mobster type movies. The film tracks the journey of two Portuguese missionaries (Andrew Garfield and Adam Driver) in the 17th Century who go to Japan looking for one of their mentors (Liam Neeson). However in this era, Christians faced persecution in Japan and were practically slaughtered for not following the country’s religion of Buddhism. The priests’ journey is perilous and heart rendering as they are forced to abandon their own religion in order to save their own lives and the lives of others. Despite the film being just over 160 minutes, it’s an inspiring story and one that is told in a tactful way. To believe this is a film is quite hard, as the accuracy of it makes it closer to reality than just a film itself.

Score: 8/10

Lynn + Lucy (2019) as seen on BBC iPlayer

This film recently came out in UK cinemas and was put onto BBC iPlayer due to lockdown. I found it to be interesting and enjoyed the new perspective it gave to quite a simple story. Lynn and Lucy have been friends for almost their entire lives, and when Lucy’s baby boy dies in unexplained circumstances, it drives a wedge between her relationship with Lynn, as people in their neighbourhood accuse her of being a child murderer. Eventually, Lynn stats to believe the rumours herself, leaving her best friend behind and favouring the opinions of those who hardly know her. A great debut and British film, Lynn + Lucy is profound story of friendship.

Score: 8/10

Revolutionary Road (2008) as seen on Netflix

Revolutionary Road has a metric score of 60% on Rotten Tomatoes, which I find quite offensive as the film nearly falls into the “thanks but no thanks” category of films. Directed by Sam Mendes and starring Kate Winslet alongside Leonardo DiCaprio, I don’t see what’s not to like. I only clocked halfway through the film why DiCaprio had been cast with Kate Winslet (Titanic, duh) and it made their on screen chemistry more prominent for me. I always say this about EVERY SINGLE Leonardo DiCaprio film I watch, but his performance in this was unreeeaaal. His character went somewhere intense and never returned, making the hardship on screen 10 times more powerful. There’s a scene where him and Winslet’s character are in a full blown argument and DiCaprio’s rage was on another level. Incredibly authentic and honest, Revolutionary Road showcases a wonderful example of when two masterful actors come together to make something great.

Score: 10/10

Hillbilly Elegy (2020) as seen on Netflix

Hillbilly Elegy recently got torn to shreds by critics as it was released on Netflix the other week, and I half agree with what most are saying about it, but also feel there’s unnecessary criticisms about this film. The film is based on a memoir of a Yale Law student, J.D Vance (Gabriel Basso) who comes from rough beginnings and ends up building the life he so desired from a young age. His mother (Amy Adams) is a destructive drug addict who’s moods change frequently so that she’s constantly at war with her own mother (Glenn Close) and two children (Haley Bennett and Gabriel Basso). The story follows J.D’s return to his home town to claim his mother from a hospital after she over dosed on heroin. The only problem is, he has an interview with a law firm from Washington the following morning and has to choose between taking care of his mother and landing his dream job. Sounds pretty intriguing, right? And it truly is. The film is laced with conflict and great performances from everyone, however critics have blasted this film with hate, saying that it doesn’t ring true to the entire American experience of living in poverty, without healthcare and enough money to bring food to the table. The fact that J.D made it to Harvard and now works for a successful enterprise somehow detracts from his struggle as a child, which I think is complete BS. I think this film should be taken for more face value than as a political story. It’s a straight talking, rags to riches tale that proves with hard work and dedication, you can transform your struggles into success. One critic had the audacity to say that “Selling out your origins is a kind of white trash cosplay because you were lucky enough to get out”. The irony of this is that the critic herself is white and it suggests had JD been a person of colour, it’d made a better film, which isn’t the kind of world where I want to live in when stories of people of colour are used as poverty porn rather than something to enjoy or learn from. My only criticism of this film would be the pace of conflict within the film and how things went from 0-100 waaay too quickly. This can happen in real life, but on screen it tends to look sloppy and rushed.

Score: 9/10

And that’s it! A rather short list for this month, but as the year draws to a close, I’m just really excited for the new films hopefully hitting screens next year. Seen you soon!

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cecilspeaks · 4 years

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167 - Echo

Spring reveals nature’s secret That death is reversible. Welcome to Night Vale.

The worst part is not the tall plumes of smoke. Nor the destroyed cars and buildings, nor the armed desert cult marching through the streets. It is the silence. The absence of sirens echoing across the valley. The absence of help. the absence of hope that help will happen. And now the absence even of screams.

The clan of passengers of Delta flight 18713 prowls the streets of our town, seeking those who hide, those who resist. They know there are few of us left who have not been subsumed by their leader’s commands. And those of us who do remain will be captured and eventually killed. They must know I am here, hiding, talking, resisting. They must see our radio antenna, our station sign, hear our broadcasts.

The pilot knows who I am, delights in having inhabited my mind a couple weeks go to speak his foul truth. He holds out some hope that he can re-enter my brain, squeeze it tight with his calm convincing voice. I remain alive because the pilot wants me in my job. Wants me on his side.

I hope for solution. I hope my own voice empowers those who are still free to rise up, to fight back, but so far – nothing. I no longer hope to find Amelia Anna Alfaro who was always the best at everything and who disappeared eight years ago to loo for Delta flight 18713. I no longer hope that Amelia Anna Alfaro will be found or that she will save us because she is found. She will not save us.

Amelia stands at the top step of the Night Vale City Hall. Behind her is the multi-headed, single-bodied entity that is City Council. Amelia and the City Council are both fully under the control of the pilot. Amelia Anna Alfaro found the missing passengers of flight 18713, and then was enjoined by the pilot to join them.

When the pilot makes contact with your brain, he does not speak to you at first. He does not begin with a plea, with a mission, with a request or command. He first forces you to hear the lives of his passengers, innocents who boarded Delta flight 18713 from Detroit to Albany on June 15, 2012. You hear a mother calming her child, you hear giggling teenage boys, you hear middle-aged men telling each other the same stories they have told each other for years on end. You hear about vacations and jobs and families and favorite books and unrealized dreams, you hear it all until you accept the mundane comfort and intimacy of community, until you are lulled into a willingness to hear anything – and then you hear the pilot. And you hear his message. The words of his message are about nature’s beauty. The words express loving respect that all nature is beautiful. But the message is not the words. It’s what’s encoded within them, the message is that all who are not beautiful are an affront to nature.

His power of unspoken oration, of invisible influence, allows his hatred to metastasize, to become an active assault rather than an idle grumble. It is difficult to stop his voice from entering your head. Nearly impossible. I am not able to do it on my own. Carlos sits with me still in my studio. When I talk to Carlos, I do not hear the voice of the pilot nor his passengers. Charles Rainier, the former warden of the Night Vale Asylum, went fishing to keep his mind clear. Tamika Flynn has taken to listening to the audio book of Emily St. John Mandel’s bestselling novel “Station 11”, which is narrated by Night Vale’s own Lee Marvin who, by the way, turns 32 next month. Happy early birthday, Lee, if you can hear me.

I have found that Carlos calms me, centers me, silences the echoes of 100 different people, 100 different thoughts in my head, none of which are my own. If you know what centers you, do that immediately.

The streets are quiet, Night Vale. I hope some of you can hear me. I hope some of you are staying out of sight, out of reach. If you can, come together, find each other. Perhaps we can overpower these invaders of our peace, but the pilot hides from any potential counterattack, and if we can’t stop him, can’t cut out the brain of his insurgency… I believe our hopes are lost. Our end is near.

The last hope I had stands on the top step of City Hall rallying her mindless clan on a ruthless scouring of our city. Amelia Anna Alfaro was always the best at everything, and the pilot knows that. It is why he chose her as his chief strategist, his general, his right hand.

They will push beyond Night Vale soon. To Red Mesa and Pine Cliff, and to the rest of the state, and beyond.

More people are brought to City Hall as I speak, and Amelia flanked by Doug Biondi delivers their sentence, their punishment for resistance. Their fate for lacking beauty in the eyes of a truly hateful man. Their sentence is to be tied together and held in the rock garden lining the outer lawn of City Hall. Once every person in Night Vale has been gathered in one place, the pilot will make one last attempt to overtake our minds as a group, to grow his army tenfold. He may succeed with some and the remainder – will be executed.

The pilot believes in his own specific definition of beauty. He believes those who fail to be good enough specimens of nature, of humanity, must be removed from the genetic pool. Every few hours, another group of prisoners crouches before Amelia, and another group receives immediate conviction.

As Amelia stands in judgment before the most recently indicted, she pauses. One of the captured is standing in defiance. In response to this rebellious act, Doug Biondi, still wearing his asylum-issued coveralls, raises a handmade curved blade, but Amelia stops him. The one standing is Yvette Alfaro. It is Amelia’s mother. She begs Amelia to recognize her own family and to have mercy. But Amelia’s eyes show no hint of relenting. Yvette tells Amelia she always loved her, was always proud of her, but that her motherly pride was sometimes a selfish price. “You were a story I wrote for myself to tell my friends,” Yvette says contritely. “I did not let you tell your own story. I should have been proud of you for what you achieved, for yourself. Happy for your happiness. But I saw you as a way to better me. I’m sorry, Amelia,” Yvette tells her only child, and then hands Amelia a note. “Please read this. It’s all I ask that you do for your mother. Read what I wrote,” Yvette says. Without even glancing at the paper, Amelia crumples it into a ball, her face reddens, and her eyes blacken, as she pushes her mother back down to her knees. With a nod of Amelia’s head, the brainwashed and ever growing clan of flight 18713 ties up the new prisoners and pushes them into the rock garden, until every remaining person in town has been drawn together for the pilot. And the last who resist his voice will be destroyed. A rotten harvest to be composted for a more promising crop.

If you can hear my voice, you are one of the last left. We cannot see the pilot, but he can see us, and it is not long until his minions are here with me, or there with you, Night Vale. We are the last to be reaped, the last to be gathered.

They stalk outside my studio now! Climbing the walls, smashing in windows, knocking down doors. I-I can hear them in the hallways behind me. Carlos is barring the door to the studio, but I know it will not hold! Carlos, do as you promised and run! I will stay focused, I will keep my head safe, I will take us all To the weather!

[“The Stolen Century” by Ellen Beizer: http://ellenclairebeizer.com]

I am captured, Night Vale. So is Carlos. I can’t see where they took him, so I keep my eyes closed and imagine Carlos’ face. I keep talking to this image of Carlos to protect my thoughts from the pilot’s voice. The ragged, empty-minded clan of flight 18713 pushes me into a larger group of captives. I still do not see Carlos, but I see the violent hungry faces of those under the pilot’s control. I see two teenage boys who are secretly mad for each other. I see a middle-aged man who either went to New Orleans or heard about New Orleans so much that he might as well have gone. I see the people who inhabited my mind. Whose voices were used to hypnotize me, to lay the psychological groundwork for the pilot. And I hear them. I hear their voices coming from their mouths, live, in real time. But I hear them in my head too! Separate from their bodies. And I think of Carlos again, trying to stop the echoes, [very quietly] return to silence and clarity.

They lead our group. I with my head down, eyes closed, quietly conversing with an imaginary Carlos, to the steps of City Hall. To the feet of the ruthless Amelia Anna Alfaro. Ohh, [quietly] but she’s not ruthless. She is compromised. I do not know how to convince her of this, if her own mother could not. Even still immediately we are denounced as resistors and tied up with the other uncooperative prisoners, wriggling uselessly in their bindings along the rock garden. The last of those who refused to join the 18713 have been gathered together. Amelia knows she has quickly and thoroughly sorted out entire town into the recruited and the renounced. She was always the best at everything.

At this moment, the pilot emerges from the front doors of City Hall. Amelia and the rest of the 18713 look on him with awe. And it occurs to me they have never seen him in person. Only heard his voice. The enormity of his legend is evidence in the gaping maw and sparkling dark eyes of Amelia Anna Alfaro. The pilot does not visibly speak, yet I can hear him in my head. Each of us can her a personalized appeal from him in our minds.

[deep creepy voice] “Cecillll,” he says to me. “You have a beautiful voice. Think of how much beauty we can share together. Think of your voice, carried miles through the air like dandelion seeds. Spreading our message of nature’s true beauty to everyone in the desert. To everyone beyonddd the desert. You are chosennn Cecillllll. Beeeeeee. My. Voiccccce.”

I think of Carlos’ face. I say aloud to my imagined Carlos: the first time you called me, I knew you liked me. Even though you avoided my flirting. I thought you were trying to be professional, Carlos, playing ignorant, but you weren’t. you were shy. You didn’t know how to ask. And I knew I loved you.

My mind remains clear as I talk, but I see several of the remainders sturgling to ignore the pilot’s voice permeating their every thought. A few lose the fight and join his clan. He is too far from me, too far from any o the rest of us to reach him, to subdue him, to kill him, to get back my mind, to get back my town, to get back my Carlos.

When the pilot’s final pleas and patience expire, he walks down the paved path and stands next to Amelia Anna Alfaro. Then he says, for the first time using his mouth: “None of them are beautiful! None of them are nature! None of them can live!” Amelia stares at him like a star struck fan in the presence of a Hollywood celebrity. Doug Biondi, next to her, holds up his crooked blade. The angel of death wears electric blue coveralls, and the 18713 raise their weapons too, glaring at the last of us tied up a the rock garden. I search in vain for Carlos one last time, battling the sick truth that we are born and we will die alone. And Amelia Anna Alfaro raises her hand. Inside her hand is a ball of paper. Seeming confused about how it got there, she unfurls it. Smoothing out the wrinkles with her fingers, she examines the paper. There is a long silence. “Should I do it or what? Amelia?” Doug Biondi asks, anxious to get to the killing part. I now see what Amelia sees. I cannot read what is written on the paper, but I know what is there. They’re words from her mother, written in code. In a puzzle. The one place Amelia’s mind can hide from the voices, from the voice of the pilot, is in puzzles. Amelia says: “It is my responsibility to destroy that which is not beautiful. Give me the blade, Doug.” Doug, reluctantly, does so. Still staring at the paper, she pulls the blade behind her shoulder and says: “You come from nowhere, and that is where you shall return.” She splashes the blade into the pilot’s throat. I see his hands clutch at his neck. I see Doug Biondi lunge for Amelia, to protect his beloved leader, but as his arms crash down onto her shoulders, he relents. Doug’s mind is free now too.

I see the pilot convulse one final time. I see the emancipated Amelia run toward her mother. Other members of the 18713 surrounding us drop their weapons, their eyes vacant and lips white. The rush of mental agency is blinding them, staggering them. One of them cuts the ropes from my hands. I help free the others, one by one, still searching for Carlos and then – I find him. He is in the very back, the last of the last of Night Vale. Those who are free are running or embracing or helping those who are still bound or drunk with confusion, and on the ground where Amelia stood moments before, I find the wrinkled note from mother to daughter. It is a series of numbers, not words. I show it to Carlos. “A cryptogram puzzle,” he says. “I love those.” I ask him if he can solve it. He screws up his face. “We should get out of here first,” he says. “Please,” I say. He looks at it for a couple of minutes, until finally he says: “It’s a basic alphanumeric code. It reads: Amelia, I am proud of you, no. matter. what.”

Carlos and I hold each other through the town. Passing two teenage boys dressed in scraps of airplane upholstery, gripping tightly each other’s faces. We help a lost toddler find his parents. We clear broken glass from streets. We walk home.

We shade our eyes from the setting sunset, which kindles through a hilltop cliff. We talk nonstop about today, about tomorrow, about yesterday, about every possible moment, just talking and talking, because we almost lost our talk forever. We do not hear the returning echo of sirens across the valley. We do not hear anything but ourselves.

Stay tuned. Next. For a silence that is all your own.

Good night, Night Vale … Good night.

Today’s proverb: Did you know the Germans have 31 different words for beer? Well they don’t, that’s wrong, you’re wrong

#welcome to night vale #wtnv #wtnv transcripts #episode 167 #echo #i apologize for the long delay #but i couldn't load the post form for some reason

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morkofday · 3 years

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I’m too embarrassed to say this off anon BUT U GOT ME INTO BTS FIC CAUSE I READ YOURS AND NOW I CANT STOPPPP so tell me about across and beyond pls pls pls

I am so incredibly happy that someone is interested in my bts stuff ;; I haven't talked about these fics to anyone in ages haha. also thank you, so, SO much for reading my fics ♥ you are amazing!

but to talk about across and beyond! I started it during last summer bc I had finished the king: eternal monarch (which I enjoyed very much? it was surprising when it has such a strong romance aspect and I usually avoid those). the idea of some kind of alternate universe plus time travel was so interesting to me that this created itself!

(sorry am placing this under the cut to spare other ppl of my rambling)

it’s a story about modern era young CEO Jungkook whose father testaments him this old flute with a request to solve a secret of his. Jungkook, who is more into painting and art in general than his father’s business, needs to solve the secret before he can give up his position as the CEO. so, he starts figuring out the flute and what it means, and then travels, first by accident, to this other universe that exists somewhere in a historical era.

and this is where men with sword came along! I watched the first season and part of the second one and it wasn’t phenomenal or anything but I loved some of the characters a lot! especially king jian bin and his bodyguard/advisor(/boyfriend) qi zhikan (played by yi bochen who now acts as chen yuzhi in killer and healer if you happen to watch that. also yang hao’s actor from sand sea, zhu jian, is in this! a very random combo). so I took some ideas from that world when I created the universe for Yoongi who Jungkook befriends (and well, obviously falls in love with). Yoongi is the deputy prime minister of his city and very exasperated by this young boy that just happens to appear in his mansion. Jungkook is, however, a fresh wind in the middle of his tiring duties as his kingdom is facing a war.

it was somehow very easy to assign roles for all the members in both universes (historical and modern) and figure out what Jungkook’s father’s secret would be and how it would all play out. I also liked all the pairings I chose: yoonkook, taejoon (obviously bc I adore them) and then 2seok in the modern world and jihope in the historical one. I wrote quite a chunk of this during that summer but then got stuck on the moment Yoongi finally gets to Jungkook’s world :’D I am excited to finish this at some point tho bc I love what I have planned for the ending (even if parts of it are very sad).

here’s a snippet for you to give you some feeling of this:

It was fine. He wasn’t even sure he could bring Yoongi through, unsure of the way his flute worked, of the way the worlds twisted around him. No one in his own world knew about the real purpose of his flute and he was afraid to tell.

He doubted they would take it as well as Yoongi. They lived in a modern world - magic didn’t fit in. And if anyone was ever trying to travel through the worlds with him, it would have to be Yoongi.

He breathed in, slowly, softly. In the space between worlds there was no air but he tried still. Only his chest moved, nothing going in, nothing coming out. He did not need to breathe here because he did not exist in this space but he liked trying, liked proving the space wrong.

Yes, he was still alive in that space. Yes, he still had his body, could see familiar hands by his sides, could feel his toes when he wiggled them inside his shoes. He could hear his voice if he spoke and could touch the sandy ground under his very much real feet.

It was just that this space was not real. He took no space in the world while he was in here and that was the reason why being here twisted time, he believed. Time took no space in here either. It did not flow like it used to when he walked through.

There was no air, only sand and the steel gray sky. Doors were open everywhere, and then Jungkook walked through one.

“Wha- Where were you? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

Namjoon hurriedly stood up from the couch he’d been occupying, phone still lit in his hands. He was wearing a sharp, light gray suit to fit his gray dyed hair and fancy shoes that had obviously cost a fortune. His round glasses glimmered in the lowly lit up room, and Jungkook could see the worried lines around his dark eyes.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” he murmured and Namjoon’s eyes narrowed into slits.

“You were not in that kitchen a few minutes ago,” his vice president observed and Jungkook felt the dread in his stomach. He was about to face the modern world. He was about to tear it apart with his magic.

“No, hyung,” he answered softly, “I was traveling.”

the pov switches between Jungkook and Yoongi as they both of course know different things of their worlds and different ppl so here’s also a snippet of Yoongi’s pov too (bc I really do like this fic):

“Get him a change of clothes,” he told Seokjin who bowed and went on his way. Jungkook looked at him with wide, surprised eyes, and Yoongi could see more stars in them, could almost taste the excitement. He did not know if it was the boy’s or his own. If it was excitement at all, tilting slowly towards something daring.

“Don’t speak with anyone and stay by my side,” he instructed when they climbed into the carriage and started their way to the palace. Jungkook nodded, looking so very different in his new clothes. The robes he wore belonged to Seokjin, the two men sharing the same physique which guaranteed that the robes at least fit. All the layers of misty blue and shining gray made the boy look ethereal.

They had not been able to hide Jungkook’s short hair but Yoongi did not think it mattered. He could lie it was because of different customs, that Jungkook was his visitor from a faraway kingdom.

Technically, he was. If Yoongi believed in his stories - which he thought he might. There were too many details. The boy’s eyes were too telling.

“Wow,” Jungkook gasped as they arrived, fumbling a little bit with his long robes as he climbed out with Seokjin’s helping hand. Yoongi hummed, looking at the golden palace with the eyes of a stranger. The palace looked unreal, like it had descended from heaven. With all its details and decorations, it felt like it had been made with the hands of a god.

Was Namjoon, perhaps, from a heavenly bloodline after all?

Yoongi shook his head lightly and then gathered his robes to his hands, climbing down the small ladder that had been placed next to the carriage. He wore robes with more brown today. There were still green details in his outfit to show his assigned colors but the dark brown was dominating, bringing out the delicate golden threads that crisscrossed all over his outer robe. On his back, there was a picture of a golden swan.

“I’ll introduce you to people when needed. Remember to bow and speak respectfully,” Yoongi said once more and Jungkook smiled, nodding again. The boy had a tendency to forget his manners, and Yoongi really hoped they would not get into trouble because of a simple slip.

thank you for allowing this to me ♥ I hope you enjoyed all of my ramblings and these snippets ^^

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lisinfleur · 4 years

Text

Sin - Part II

Author’s Notes | I had this fiction before and I was about to make a continuation for it and so, you came with a request that fits perfectly! I hope you like it, my sweet sister, and welcome in our father’s arms once again! ᚺ ᚫ Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, Former Christian Nun! Reader, requested by @elysias-temple, part II for THIS fiction Words | 2034 ⁑ Warnings: Heathenry and religious conflict.

"I know the truth! I want my freedom back!"

Freedom.

That was a word you slowly learned you never really knew for real. What you thought you would have back by Ivar's side was nothing in face of what he gave to you!

Their army had moved forward and conquered the city of York from the hands of King Aethelwulf shoving the Christian armies as if there was nothing behind them but the shadow of a lie. More and more, your whole life of praying and gratitude was sounding stupid for you: where was God when those men were begging Ivar's mercy? Where was the mighty God when Hvitserk was trespassing his sheep as cattle to be slaughtered inside His own house?

Those men and women had no sin, right? They were praying and glorifying. Where was the God they could feel so present while praising in the times where his powerful help was so needed?

With time, you saw your former God was for them at the same place he was for you when your uncle stole your life from you and turned you into a sinful shame for your whole stupid family: Nowhere to be found.

Nowhere to be heard.

Nowhere to be seen.

Nowhere even to be felt!

However, you couldn't say the same about Ivar's gods, the ancient gods that somehow seemed to be so connected with what was barely explained by the bible you had long thrown in the fire to increase the warmth of the fire pit around which Ivar and his brothers were telling their stories.

You've heard the creation of the world and it didn't come from anything!

You've heard the sacrifices of Odin for the runes and how huge it was Yggdrasil! You've heard about the cycle of life, the cycle of the years, the feasts and celebrations, and how everything was connected to the natural course of life and how the environment around would change during the year.

The tributes that were paid to the earth made sense in your mind: it was pretty more intelligent to lay the last harvest for the gods on the field and have they fed and prepared to the next seed to come than to lay this harvest at the church to be eaten by the priests that would charge the hungry people to pray for forgiveness to the sins that turned the soil dry in the next year.

It made sense for you to celebrate the life and joy of Spring as much as reunite around the table and celebrate the union that could bring warmth in the cold Winter.

Their gods were there, everywhere! Not only in pages you sometimes couldn't read. Not only for the men that would be his sons. Not only in the skies, unreachable, untouchable, undefeatable...

Unreal.

Their gods bled, they fought, they died and would die, like any man or woman in this world. They were powerful, but not omnipotent. They were wise, but there was always more knowledge to be learned. They were everywhere, and yet, they would stand beside their people and find time to speak to each son of a memorable man that their father was dead, killed by serpents, and should be avenged.

There was a long time now since you left that monastery. And such as your God, none of your family seemed to have missed you. Ivar's men brought news the monastery was abandoned after the invasion where you went away with them and the nuns were taken whether to another monastery or to their families’ lairs. None had spoken about a kidnapped nun. None had spoken about a lost sheep.

None had noticed you.

Nor your family.

Nor your former god.

But Ivar's gods had eyes to see... And they saw you.

"There is a Seeress in our town," Hvitserk announced, entering the church Ivar was using as his great hall since Ubbe had departed back to their homelands.

"Something unusual for Christian lands," Ivar answered, supposing it could be a liar.

You were sitting beside him, used already to the Scandinavian clothes and to his way to hold your hand almost all the time the two of you were sitting together on those chairs like thrones for a king and his queen.

Your eyes became large when you saw the woman who came in and you got up, going down the stairs, running towards her with surprise and tears forming in your eyes.

"Elysia!" you called.

Your hands ready to touch that woman's face when she rose up her eyes to look at you and you retreated, shocked.

It was your little sister, you were sure of this, but her face was tattoed with runes and her eyes were fully black now, completely different from the orbs that were once so close to your y/e/c.

"Do you know this woman, my love?" Ivar asked, coming closer with his braces and crutch he was now using to walk beside you. "Who are you who comes here claiming to have the eyes of my gods in foreign lands?" he asked, almost hostile.

"She's my little sister... Elysia..." you mumbled, but Elysia looked straight into Ivar's eyes and, to your surprise, her appearance didn't shock him as it did to you.

Instead, he was suspicious, such as Hvitserk by her side, but her lips curled slowly in a smile and you could swear one of her eyes slowly went down into her skull, almost disappearing for your major shock, leaving your sister's expression defaced when she spoke to Ivar with such a strong voice.

"Don't you recognize your blood when it stands in front of you, son of Ragnar?" she asked, and so, Ivar's and Hvitserk's expressions became surprised, losing completely all the mistrust they had in their orbs.

In a blink of an eye, your sister's face was normal again, except for the two black eyes she turned towards you.

"Bring some mead! And serve the table. We have a special guest for this meal," Ivar ordered and Hvitserk smiled.

And so did your sister, almost mutely accepting his hospitality.

But her hand lifted up touching your face, caressing your cheek the way she used to do when the two of you were younger and it made the tears pour down through your face...

"I'm still here, Y/N. I'm me. And I'm not me. I'm theirs and yet, I'm mine more than I never was in our entire life," she answered the questions you didn't make as if she could read your soul and your mind.

Ivar smiled. For many times you had asked him how was it when his gods were speaking to him. Now, you knew... You could see...

"What... What happened?" You asked, holding her hand in your face, caressing it with your thumb.

"He came for me after what he did to you. As witches, our father abandoned us, accusing us of his crimes," she started, and you recognized your uncle in her words, sobbing with your face softly against her hand. "Two were lost to the fire, one gave herself to the hungry sea and I... I was embraced by a loving father who gave me a new life," she said.

Causing your tears to become thicker.

Your poor sisters, all lost. Despite she wasn't speaking, somehow, you could understand in your heart, know in your heart that two of your poor sisters were burned as witches and one delivered herself to the waves waiting her beloved blue sea could take her to a better place in the afterlife.

"He made my hands strong... He trained and taught me... And when the time came, I claimed the stained life and delivered myself to the services of the ones who granted us revenge."

You covered your mouth. Your uncle was dead. Killed by the most delicate hands among your sisters thickened by the sword mastery his actions forced her to learn. So, she was adopted by a Heathen. Trained in the ways of the sword and claimed your uncle's life as payment for what he had done to all of you.

You felt your heart weightless. He had paid his price.

The Norse Gods had brought you the justice the Christian God had denied you for so long.

"I see you understood, sweet sister of mine. You know now... I accept the gentle offer of your husband-to-be for food and mead, and I bless the child you carry in your belly as it starts his legacy. But do not weep for my brief departure, sweet Y/N. I came only to bring the embrace that's long waiting for your acceptance so long..."

Ivar looked at you, surprised. And you touched your belly, flat... The two of you had shared moments of love indeed, but a child of his? In your belly?

Your sister smiled and you saw her arms opened. You knew the meaning of that. The gods were offering you a place among their people. They were embracing you like you never felt embraced before. And waiting for your acceptance of the beautiful fate they had written for you...

"Long ago, sweet child..." your sister's voice spoke once again, reading your mind, completing your thoughts. "When the wolf was taken away from his path and the plague forbidden to enter your tent..."

Ivar smiled. His mother saved him when his father left him to the wolves as a baby - the path she could never do to find the unfindable in the middle of woods that should have swallowed his cries for help.

And you remembered the terrible fever that touched your village when Elysia wasn't born and you were nothing but a child. Not a single member of your family was touched by the plague and you were taught for years that God protected your tent...

Not God.

Definitely not him.

Someone different. Someone that made you feel safe to walk into your sister's arms and embrace the figure that would have scared you some years ago, but now, was making you feel so cozy, so loved.

Her arms were warm like Elysia's arms always were, but that was something more. You could feel the wind around you, the earth beneath your feet, the fire of the fireplace and drops of water in the air. Everything embracing you with the arms of your sister who brought you tight against her body that, for an instant, seemed to be bigger than yours, able to involve you whole.

"Welcome home, sweet child," she said, before breaking the hug leaving you with that sensation of wholeness into your chest as her fingers slid through your face before she kissed your forehead.

Elysia blinked her eyes and so, they weren't black anymore, but back were the orbs so similar to yours. But her smile was still the same, full of gentleness and wholeness and that welcoming sensation that was telling you were home.

You felt Ivar's hand softly touching your belly and you touched his hand smiling at him, seeing his blues shining as he touched his forehead to yours.

"I told you I would give back your dreams, my love," he smiled, and you smiled back at him.

"You told me you would give me what my heart wanted," you said, and he looked at your eyes. "What my heart wants is this... This fate. The beautiful fate by your side the gods wrote for me. I accept it, Ivar. I accept them."

"Then may we hail the gods with our toasts and celebrate my nephew to come!" Hvitserk said, bringing the cups, laughing with happiness. "Hail! Hail the gods! Hail Odin who broke the lies about you, my brother! Hail your child to come and the sister I earned today!!"

"Hail," Ivar said, raising the cup for the two of you, as you smiled to Elysia who drank from her cup and smiled back at you.

In her eyes, you could see the world. The fire and the air. The water and the sea. The earth and Yggdrasil.

In her eyes, you could see the gods smiling at you.

And so, you smiled back at them, knowing you would never be alone once again.

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#history vikings #imagine vikings #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader #ivar's heathen army #sister wives #shot #sin

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pinepickled-narutoblog · 4 years

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Fun Games Friday: Team Kurenai and Team Asuma including their teachers? Just had to do the counterpart to yours xD

😂😂 thank you! I hope you had fun with mine

First up is the man himself, Asuma Sarutobi