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ioveartfilm · 1 month

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BEYOND THE GRAVE

Summary When he first dreamed about you, Satoru knew deep down you must be wandering somewhere in the world out of his reach. However, he never thought you were lying six feet underground.

Genre Romance, Drama, Historical, Thriller.

Additional Content Mature Content, Dark Themes, Murder, One Shot, Victorian Era.

Pairing Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

Playlist ┊ Masterlist

Author’s Note Here’s the corpse bride AU fic I promised, enjoy!!

Satoru’s hand moved effortlessly while sketching the figure of a woman that rested in his mind. Capturing every detail of hers. Being a presence he had portrayed on countless occasions. Her features linger vividly in his memories, using her as a subject to relieve his turmoils. As his gaze remains, his lingering desires do too. A yearning for her to come to life. How does a woman attain such resplendent beauty and by what mystic grace did her presence weave its way into his thoughts? His wish for her to enlighten him about her purposes, passions, and dreams persisted. Eager to learn how she landed into his deepest dreams. Why his? His nonchalant mind of his, with no creativity whatsoever.

All his drawings are composed of her presence along with the illustrations of Morpho menelaus, species of the subfamily Morphinae. A striking butterfly species with a resplendent blue that brightens through the night with its vibrant colors. The beautiful butterflies that grace his window daily, he’s lucky to witness. Satoru was the age of eighteen when he first encountered her in his dreams. He remembers the moment vividly. For an inexplicable reason, she was dressed in bridal attire, highlighting her gorgeous collarbone while gracefully embracing her form, complemented by dainty ivory gloves. A bride. Perhaps someone else’s bride. He can’t tell why that thought pains him.

“This boy, engaging in artistic endeavors like a fool.” His mother entered his chamber with an air suffused with disapprobation. “Desist from your current occupation and prepare yourself. We cannot afford to be tardy!”

Oh, that's right. He's going to finally meet his fiance today.

“Ah, my beautiful and only son. Possessing a visage of such resplendence yet lingering in an unmarried state. What an anguish! It is our poverty that people look down on us. But again, If your father haven’t went bankrupt, we wouldn’t be in this situation! Now I’m stuck with a son that wastes his days, selling books, sketching nonsense and recite poems to no one.” Throughout the entirety of their carriage ride to their destination, his mother lamented their circumstances. Regrettably, his family lacks the riches to sustain themselves after his father’s death. However, his forthcoming matrimonial alliance holds the promise of a brighter future. “Now we find ourselves lucky! The Winchester Family finally grant us a chance!”

“Mother,” Satoru called with a furrow forming on his brow. "Shouldn't Miss Winchester be marrying a Lord instead of a common man like me?" He expressed his concerns, his words tinged with uncertainty. “Don't you find it a little odd?” Is he the only who find it suspicious about The Winchester family sudden interest in them?

His mother scowled, using her fan to deliver a smack to her son’s head. “Quiet boy! Don’t pry, and be grateful for what you have.” Satoru exhaled deeply at his mother’s words, sinking back into his seat as a whirlwind of thoughts spun through his mind, there’s no use talking to his mother about this matter. He may as well let it be.

“Adelaide, I implore you to ensure our son enters into wedlock for love, not merely for monetary gain. Guide him onto the right path.”

“Oh, Octavius don’t be ridiculous! Our son’s survival is paramount. Love alone cannot sustain him; it is a whimsical fantasy.”

Satoru recalled the moment he overheard his father’s dying wish for him. Octavius had fervently wished for his son to pursue love in marriage, unencumbered by material considerations. However, Henrietta held a contrary belief. Satoru lacks personal experience with romantic affection, so he cannot voice an opinion on that matter. Opting for a marriage driven by financial considerations is the most pragmatic choice for him at present. His artistic talents and poetic inclinations offered little sustenance for his practical needs. Resigning himself he now embraces the predetermined path laid out before him.

“Pay heed,” His mother's voice resounded with a sense of urgency, her eyes drilling into Satoru with a steely resolve. “Do your utmost to appease them. Whatever you do, do not falter! This is our last opportunity to escape the perpetual hardship we face daily. We cannot afford to let this chance slip through our grasp, do you comprehend?”

“Mother you expect too much from me. I haven't even spoken to Miss Winchester before, how will I know how to please her?”

“Ah, nonsense! Women aren't as complicated as you make them out to be. Just prioritize making a favorable impression on Mr. and Mrs. Winchester.”

Mr. and Mrs. Winchester proved to be not only reserved but rather, intimidating. Satoru stood still in the middle of the room with their discerning gazes lingering on him, scrutinizing every aspect of his presence, leaving him with a growing sense of discomfort. Mrs. Winchester emitted a satisfied hum as she began to circle his form treating him like an exhibit with her head held high.

“You possess striking height and distinctive features: white hair and blue eyes. Yes, these are splendid attributes for our future grandchildren,” Mrs. Winchester commented in a stern tone. “Yet, physical appearance alone is not what we seek. We seek discipline and determination above all else, a husband who is committed to providing for his family. Do you believe you possess such traits, Mr. Gojo?”

Satoru stood proudly, suppressing any doubts that lingered within him, meeting Mrs. Winchester’s gaze with composure. “Yes, ma’am. I assure you that I possess the qualities you seek. I am committed to meeting your expectations.”

The room descended into a profound silence as their eyes locked, seemingly exchanging unspoken words. Mrs. Winchester arched an eyebrow before nodding in approval. “Good. That’s precisely the response I was hoping for. Come along, let us delve deeper into our discussion over a cup of tea.”

As Mrs. Winchester led the way deeper into their sprawling mansion, Satoru’s attention was ensnared by the sight of a magnificent piano, standing behind until the voices of his mother, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester gradually faded away. His eyes were drawn to the instrument, finding himself seated on the bench, his gaze fixated on the keys as memories flooded his mind. He recalled the days of his youth, witnessing his father play with awe and admiration. While Satoru could play the piano, he knew he could never quite replicate his father’s talent. As he sat there before the instrument, memories of his father’s music enveloped him, stirring both nostalgia and longing in his heart. Oh, how he missed the irreplaceable bond they shared through the language of music. One evening, Octavius found young Satoru ensconced in the solitude of the gardens with tears cascading down his cheeks, as he grappled with the weight of his mother’s perceived disappointment in him. Unable to further witness his son’s anguish, Octavius led him to his musical sanctuary where he sat at the grand piano. He began to play with ease a melody he composed with each note a testament to the depth of his love for his son.

“You are kind, strong, and brave.” Octavius spoke with words of reassurance and wisdom. “Allow yourself to feel and express your emotions freely. It does not diminish your worth as a man.”

For years, Satoru devoted himself to the pursuit of replicating the melody his father once played. His fingers dancing upon the keys of the piano with practiced ease. As he closed his eyes, he surrendered himself to the echoes of the past in a bittersweet embrace.

“Mr. Gojo?” The sudden intrusion of feminine voice brought Satoru’s performance to an abrupt halt, his fingers freezing upon the keys as he turned to behold the unexpected visitor. Before him, a radiant apparition graced his sight—a maiden in the prime of her twenties, adorned with cascades of chestnut tresses and eyes of a rich, earthly hue. Her figure was adorned in a breathtaking violet gown along with a delicate necklace gracing her necklace adding a touch of refinement. Satoru then began to distancing himself from the instrument, standing before her. Is she really the woman he must marry? She’s absolutely gorgeous.

“Forgive me.” He speaks flickering his gaze between the woman in front of him and the piano, feeling slightly unease under her curious gaze. “I’ve used your piano without proper permission.”

She emitted a soft chuckle and shook her head with a serene smile. “That’s quite alright. Hardly anyone ever uses it anyway.”

“Really? Such beauty should be cherished and appreciated, not left idle.”

“I agree. Lamentably, my mother holds the belief that a lady like myself should not indulge in musical pursuits.”

"How so?" Satoru couldn't help but inquire.

"My mother believes playing the piano isn't suitable for a lady," Catherine explained with a hint of resignation, "and insists that I redirect my focus towards more socially acceptable pursuits."

"That's a shame," Satoru stated sympathetically.

"It truly is."

Now as both moved to be seated by side together at the piano bench, she cast a wistful smile in Satoru’s direction before speaking with a longing voice. “I’ve always imagined my wedding would be with someone I truly love.” She confessed. “Perhaps it’s an unrealistic wish, don’t you think? Nobody marry for love nowadays.”

“Yes, it is.” Satoru agrees immediately unaware he may have been a little blunt. “I mean! No, of course not. If it’s a dream you hold dearly, do not let go of it so easily.” Even though his hopes of marrying for love have dimmed, it doesn’t mean her hopes have to be.

She hums to herself with her gaze lowered. “I’ve matured and I have learned down the way I shouldn’t be swayed by a little girl’s dreams.” She then lifts up her eyes to meet Satoru’s. “However, that doesn’t mean we should treat each other as strangers. We will soon be husband and wife, the least we can do is treat each with familiarity.”

Satoru let out a relieved sigh upon hearing her words, feeling like he could breathe again. Yes, that’s something he needed to heard. “I will be pleased to do that, I’m not quite fond of formalities. Please reference me as Satoru from now on.”

“Satoru.” She pronounced his name like it was the sweetest flavor her tongue had encountered. “Call me, Catherine.”

“Catherine,” Satoru said with a warm smile, “perhaps after we are wed, I could impart upon you the art of playing the piano.”

“You will?” Catherine inquired, her eyes brightening with anticipation. “Will you teach me the previously melody you were playing?”

“Absolutely,” Satoru responded with a firm conviction agreeing immediately at her request, his demeanor exuding confidence as he reached out to intertwine his fingers with Catherine's, while their eyes locked into each other. Meanwhile, Catherine can’t hold that long her gaze feeling flustered under his clear eyes.

“What impropriety is this?” Mrs. Winchester's voice shattered the moment they shared, causing Satoru and Catherine to hastily pull away from each other. “You two cannot be seen alone before the wedding! I trust you are aware of that, Mr. Gojo.” Mrs. Winchester asserted, her tone carrying a hint of admonition as she reminded them of the proprieties expected before their impending nuptials.

Satoru rose from the bench, executing a polite bow as a gesture of contrition. “My apologies, Mrs. Winchester. It was imprudent of me.”

“I have taken a liking to you, Mr. Gojo. It would be disheartening to be disappointed so soon. Now, there's a few minutes before rehearsal. The priest will arrive soon, so come along, and let’s not waste any more time!”

It's only a few vows, Satoru thought to himself. He had recited numerous poems before; surely, this wouldn't be too challenging. Oh, but it was. Satoru realized with a sinking feeling in his chest. Despite his earlier confidence, the weight of the momentous occasion bore down on him, making the simple act of reciting vows feel daunting.

“Rehearsal in ruins as Mr. Gojo causes chaos!Wedding rumored to be delayed.” Bloody hell—

Satoru's frustration escaped in an audible groan, as the news of the disastrous rehearsal spread throughout the town, amplifying his embarrassment. Can his day get any worse? Now everyone knows what happened at the rehearsal pointing him like a fool. Wait.

Catherine. Oh, Catherine.

She may not want to hear from him after this. He could potentially be labeled as the worst groom in history. Perhaps he wasn't cut out for marriage after all. They were only simple vows—what had gotten into him today? It was completely out of his character! The words may have seemed clear in his thoughts, but as he spoke them aloud, they twisted and faltered, a stark contrast to the eloquence he had imagined.

“With this hand, I shall partake of your elixir.” No, that's not it. Think again.

How about, “With this hand, I shall elevate your candle.” Goodness, no that's not the correct sentence! Think again!

“Come now, Satoru,” he thought, "take a deep breath and orchestrate those vows into their rightful sequence. Do not be disheartened by mere vows. You wish to marry Catherine, do you not?” He does. He may not be initially in love with Catherine taking the fact he barely knows her. Though, that doesn’t mean he can’t learn how to. If you ask him, he’s a fast learner.

“With this hand, I shall lift the burden of your sorrows,” Satoru recited, his voice steady as he embraced the weight of his commitment. He raised his ring, pledging to alleviate Catherine's burdens and share in her joys. He strides further into the depths of the dim forest he had fled, his voice a steady cadence amid the eerie silence as he continues to recite his vows with unwavering determination.

“Your cup shall never run dry, for I shall be your wine. With this candle, I shall illuminate your passage through the abyss. And with this ring, I beseech you to be mine.” With his vows flowing smoothly from his lips, Satoru breathed a sigh of relief, a satisfied smile adorning his face. Proud of his accomplishment in regaining his confidence, he stood poised and ready to embark on his homeward journey.

“Catherine,” he ruminated, a fervent resolve kindling within him, “I stand ready to entreat you to become mine.” Catherine after all, deserves the best. He pledges to himself he will be the best version of himself so he can make Catherine happy. That’s the least he can do as her future husband. If the wedding is still up, of course. What’s he gonna say once goes back? “I’m sorry I ruined away in the middle of rehearsal like an idiot?” Oh, no. What’s Mr. and Mrs. Winchester gonna think of him now? Everything felt so suffocating! But, can you really blame him? It’s almost like the universe was conspiring against him today.

The sudden cessation of the breeze arrested Satoru's steps, preventing him from moving further. However, that was not the only oddity that caught Satoru's attention. The wind picked up, its mournful wail creating a chilling symphony in the air. Simultaneously, the ground beneath him trembled. A sense of uneasiness crept into Satoru's heart. Feeling a shiver run down his spine, sensing the increasing tension in the forest. He made the choice to turn back before it was too late.

“I do.”

The sudden dulcet tones of a feminine voice brought Satoru to an abrupt halt. In that suspended interval, the passage of time seemed to yield to the captivating allure of the unknown speaker, prompting Satoru to turn with cautious deliberation, his senses keenly attuned to the mysterious presence that had disrupted the tranquil solitude of the forest. His gaze widened in astonishment at the vision of a woman adorned in bridal regalia, her face obscured by a flowing veil. Yet, upon closer inspection, he noted the disarray of her attire, with torn fabric and absent embellishments. What calamity had befallen this woman? Despite her initial distance, a sense of trepidation gripped Satoru as she drew nearer, prompting an instinctive step backward.

“Who are you? Do not approach further!” However, the woman paid no heed to his warning and continued to advance. Feeling a surge of panic, Satoru turned on his heels and bolted out of the forest, his heart pounding in his chest as he raced to escape whatever ominous presence lurked behind him. Was it his imagination? Was he really going paranoid? He must be! He sprinted tirelessly until his feet throbbed returning to the bridge he originally was before delving into the forest. After his run, he paused to catch his breath, his hand resting on his chest as he briefly looked back at the cityscape before him. What was that all about? Perhaps his mind is playing tricks on him due to the stress he’s enduring. Yes, that’s it. There’s no other explanation. When he turned to peer back at the forest, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest when his eyes met the sight of the previous woman standing perilously close eliciting a startled reaction that drove him to instinctively press his back against the stone walls of the bridge in a state of bewilderment. However, as soon as her fingers started to reveal her face, time itself stopped for him.

Satoru could only manage to stammer, "You—" No it cannot be. “This…this isn’t possible!” He muttered incredulously at the sight before him. Before him stood the woman he had been sketching since he turned eighteen. As she was close, he could now have a better approach to her appearance. Noticing how the bridal attire was even torn apart, patches of her skin missing on her arms and ankles, revealed exposed bones. Resembling…someone who may be dead. How is this possible? How can a dead person be walking among the living!

“I know you.” Despite her ghastly appearance, he was certain of her identity. He knew her face. How can he not? She has been all he ever draws. What happened to her? He always thought that the woman in his dreams was wandering on the world out of his reach, however, he never thought his ideal woman was lying six feet underground beneath him. A Corpse!

“Yes, it’s me!” She spoke as if she knew him, but how could that be? They never had actually met before at least not in real life—she existed only within the realm of his dreams.

“I have dreamed this day to come. At last, you've found the courage to seek my hand in marriage.” She whispered with a yearning evident in her tone, her words echoing in his troubled mind. She then approached him and cornered him with no room to evacuate. She raised her bony hands clad in tattered gloves which had lost their pure white, as she tenderly placed them upon his cold face. Everything felt surreal to him, as though he were ensnared in a waking dream. She was the last image etched into his consciousness before slipping into oblivion.

“Mother, do you have any news of Satoru?” Catherine inquired, her voice trembling with worry as she spoke with her mother. It's late, she’s afraid Satoru may not come back after he left the rehearsal without looking back. Where could he be? Leaving Catherine filled with concern for his well-being. Perhaps, he had second thoughts?

His mother huffed in response, turning to sink into the furniture facing the fireplace. “No, nothing at all.” She replied. “I should have known that boy would only bring disappointment.”

“I couldn’t agree more. It’s utterly baffling that he doesn’t even know his wedding vows. What kind of man is he?” His father agreed, echoing her mother’s sentiments. “But given the inheritance from Octavius Gojo, he’s the best option available for us. We’ll simply have to endure his foolishness until tomorrow morning. If he bothers to return.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Catherine interjected puzzled. “what inheritance are you referring to?”

Her father shook his head irritated, avoiding his daughter's confused gaze. “Why do you think we arranged your marriage to that fool? Octavius Gojo before his passing, rumors were circulating about him selling his prosperous business and leaving the proceeds to his family.”

Before Catherine can respond to his father, the conversation comes to an abrupt halt as Mrs. Gojo enters the living room, her carriage having returned from a frantic search for her son throughout the city. “I’m deeply embarrassed by my son’s inappropriate behavior. Please accept my sincere apologies on his behalf. Unfortunately, I was unable to find him.”

Mrs. Winchester hummed, motioning for Mrs. Gojo to join them. As they settled in, a tense atmosphere waiting enveloped them all, as they awaited any sign of Satoru’s whereabouts. Suddenly, a servant entered the room to deliver his message to his masters.

“Pardon the interruption, but a guest has arrived.” Mrs. Winchester exhaled deeply upon hearing the following words, expecting news of Mr. Gojo. She can only sigh and nod. “By all means, show them in.” She instructed her servant to lead the guest into the room. As soon the unexpected guest made its entrance, Mrs. Winchester’s eyes brightened immediately with recognition as she beheld the guest.

“Ah, Mr. Zenin. What a delightful surprise.” She says with genuine pleasure. “What brings you to our home?”

He nodded, a smile playing on his lips as he addressed them all with a warm greeting. “I’ve come to visit and check on how things are for the Winchester Family, especially after the news spread about your daughter’s groom fleeing. Which was a surprise to me. Never heard of a fleeing groom before, not during rehearsal at least.”

Mrs. Winchester gestured to a servant to bring a cup of tea as Mr. Zenin joined them. “Yes, it was quite unexpected. I’m grateful for your concerns.”

As they speak over a cup of tea, Mrs. Winchester’s gaze fits towards Mrs. Gojo, observing her attempt to discern Mr. Zenin’s identity. “My apologies.” She interjected. “Allow me to make proper introductions. Mr. Zenin, may I present Mrs. Adelaide Gojo, the estimated mother of the groom. And Mrs. Gojo, it is my pleasure to introduce Mr. Naoya Zenin, a confidant of our family. His father used to be a business associate of my husband before his departure abroad.”

Mr. Zenin nodded from his seat, offering a congenial smile. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Gojo.”

However, Mrs. Gojo remained composed, her expression unwavering. “Likewise.”

“Please excuse my inquisitiveness, but your surname strikes me as oddly familiar.”

“Is that so?” Adelaide replied. “It was my late husband’s name.”

“Ah, please accept my heartfelt condolences.” He responded with sympathy. I never meant to pry.”

“It’s quite alright,” Adelaide said, brushing off his concerns with a wave of her hand.

“I’ve had the misfortune of experiencing grief firsthand as yourself,” Mr. Zenin confessed, sorrow lacing in his words. “Not long ago, I had a fiancée whom I deeply cherished before she was tragically murdered.”

“Oh, my! That’s terrible.” She expresses with a sudden change in her demeanor.

“Yes, it was a devastating ordeal.” Mr. Zenin replied with a heavy heart. “However, learning to move on is a necessary part of life.”

After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, punctuated only by the crackling of the fireplace, Mr. Zenin cleared his throat and began to speak again sitting up straighter. “Catherine, my dear. I neglected to inquire about your well-being. You must be experiencing a great deal of stress not knowing the whereabouts of your fiancé.”

Standing still where she was, Catherine lowered her gaze nodding in acknowledgment. “Yes, I can’t deny that I’m worried.” She admitted softly.

Mr. Zenin nodded gravely at Catherine’s words before speaking earnestly as he glanced back at them at once. “I’m not one to indulge in gossip, but before I came here, I overheard words of a gentleman seen near the woods, accompanied by another woman. I must tell you this before you hear it from someone else. Perhaps I am wrong, let me ask does the groom possess white hair, towering height, and striking blue eyes?”

“That’s my son! Wait, that doesn’t make any sense. My son doesn’t know other women. How can that be possible?”

“What!” Mrs. Winchester exclaimed with indignation in her voice, rising abruptly from her seat. “In the arms of another woman?”

“Satoru? No, it cannot be him.” Catherine muttered distressed.

“Mr. Zenin, are you certain about this?” Mrs. Winchester questioned anxiously. “We cannot allow this information to spread any further. The potential humiliation it could bring upon us is unthinkable!”

Standing up from his seat, Mr. Zenin nodded resolutely, certain of what he had heard. “I trust in the accuracy of what I’ve heard. Pardon me for burdening you with such troubling news,” He conveyed with sincerity. He made his way towards the door, glancing back at their uneasy faces. “I believe it’s time for me to take my leave. However, please remember, that I’m always available to lend a helping hand if needed. My assistance is unconditional.” He reassured them before closing the door behind him.

As Mr. Zenin bid his farewell, Mrs. Winchester’s hand swept through her hair in a gesture of exasperation, her mind grappling with the weight of the situation. “What steps should we now undertake?” She queried her husband, momentarily disregarding Mrs. Gojo's continued presence in the room.

Mr. Winchester’s fingertips grazed his beard as he pondered the situation. “I believe we must call the wedding off.”

“Such preposterous allegations!” Mrs. Gojo exclaimed, her demeanor now imbued with a regal air of indignation. “Surely, Mr. Zenin has been misinformed. You’re aware of how dangerous gossip can be. My son is of impeccable character; he could never stoop to such levels of promiscuity. I beseech you, to grant me a chance at least until tomorrow, so I can unravel this egregious misunderstanding. I’m certain by that time, I will be able to find my son.”

“Very, well. You have until dawn.”

With eyes alight with admiration, you behold his features closely, relishing the sight of his. Unable to resist any longer, your fingertips rested on his skin exploring the contours of his face. A smile adorning your smiles as you bask in the tranquility of the moment. Finally, he's in your arms after so long.

“What do we have here? A mere trinket for idle amusement?” A derisive voice interjects, disrupting your thoughts and your tender exploration.

With a heavy sigh, you stand to face your skeletal friend. “He is not an object for amusement. I would appreciate it if you refrain from treating him such.” He chuckles in response as he joins you by your side, and together, you cast a glance at the sleeping form of the man resting upon the furniture made of bones.

“Right. Pardon me for insulting your boyfriend over here.”

“He is not my boyfriend; he’s my husband.” You assert, shooting your friend a sharp glare. “Well, my future husband. He asked for my hand in marriage. Where are the others? I want to announce the news of our engagement as soon as possible.”

“What’s the rush, dear? Your fiancé seemed to be passed out. And by the looks of it, he may not be waking up soon.”

You scoffed in annoyance, your frustration evident in the curl of your lip. “Don’t you have anything else to do? Instead of being annoying around me.”

“Love, I’m merely just looking out for you. What business do you have with a living person?”

“I already informed you. He asked for my hand—”

“Yes. But do you truly believe he means it?”

"I'm not sure what you're implying." You replied skeptical.

Your skeletal friend shakes his skull, the hollow cavities where his eyes once were fixed on you. “I only want you to understand the magnitude of your actions. He may not mean those words, not to you at least.” He advises you with a solemn tone.

“That’s nonsense.” You retort. “I was the only one in the forest when he took vows, naturally those words were directed at me.”

“For two years,” you expound, delving into the intricacies of your relationship and the reasons behind your actions, “Satoru has been my steadfast companion. Since my departure, he has frequented these woods, pouring forth his dreams and aspirations. I've tried to connect with him through his dreams, and I'm certain he feels the same way. Now, here's the ring as a testament to our bond.” You announce, lifting your bony hand to showcase the shiny band nestled upon your finger.

“(Y/N)—”

The room fell into a reverent stillness, pierced only by the plaintive groan from the unconscious man who was now struggling to regain consciousness. You rush to his side, lowering yourself to kneel beside his prone form. “Darling, are you awake?” You observe intently as his eyes flutter, revealing his clear eyes clouded with an unfocused vision.

“It’s okay, just stay still. I’m here.”

As his vision clears and meets your gaze, you witness the shift in his countenance, from one of composure to one consumed by dread. In a rash impulse, he jolts upright, drawing in sharp breaths. His eyes are wild with fear as he scans his surroundings. When you try to reach out to comfort him, he recoils abruptly.

“Where in the world am I?” He exclaimed alarmed.

Before you can utter a word, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts, accompanied by the rhythmic chants signaling the arrival of a new visitor.

“A new arrival!”

“Fascinating, his skin looks freshly new!”

“He doesn’t look dead at all.”

“Oh! can I feel his skin?”

In a state of utter disbelief, Satoru beheld the eerie scene unfolding before him. The deceased, mingling and conversing as though they were living beings, circling around him like an object for amusement. Has he finally gone insane?

“(Y/N), darling. Who’s this one with you? Why don’t you present him to us?”

You nod, rising to your feet, proudly displaying your ring adoring your finger to the gathered crowd. “Everyone, I am honored to introduce you all to my fiancé and soon-to-be husband, Satoru.”

What! Satoru thought alarmed as he went to your side, taking your hand in his to inspect the ring with his own eyes. To his astonishment, there it was—the ring he was supposed to give to Catherine. What has he done!

“What a lovely couple, I wish for both of you endless happiness!” From admits the crowd, someone with their skeletal hands clapped.

“Thank you, Lady Brown.” You acknowledged with a smile, withdrawing your hand from Satoru’s grasp, leaving him staring at empty air. “You all should have seen him reciting his vows. It was the epitome of romance! It took my breathe away! Well, if I had any.” You chuckled.

“With this hand, I shall lift the burden of your sorrows.” With a dreamy smile playing on your lips, you remark Satoru’s vows, each word spoken with heartfelt emotion. “Your cup shall never run dry, for I shall be your wine. With this candle, I shall illuminate your passage through the abyss. And with this ring, I beseech you to be mine.” With eyes brimming with love, you regard the ring before you, your well, where your heart once swelled with unbridled joy, infusing every fiber of your being with an overwhelming sense of contentment. “Aren’t I the luckiest bride?”

“Wait!” Satoru’s voice interjected, cutting through the air like a blade. “Surely, this must be a misunderstanding,” he proclaimed. “Where am I? Is this the afterlife? What’s going on here?” Finally, his eyes met yours, and a flicker of uncertainty danced in his gaze as he inquired. “Who are you?”

You emit a soft laugh, as you approach him to close the distance between you two. Sensing his cautious retreat, you reassure him. “Love, it’s me. I understand that my appearance may not be what you expected, though I’m the same woman as I was in your dreams for two years.”

"But, in the realm of my dreams," he began, his gaze lingering on your figure, still maintaining his distance from everyone. "you appeared alive. What…What happened to you?”

You offered a rueful smile. “Well, it’s kind of a long story.”

She was a beacon of vitality, an intelligent young woman hailing from a respected and affluent family. Endowed with a myriad of talents, she possessed the ability to effortlessly weave melodies from various instruments and to navigate the intricacies of literature with finesse. Despite the throng of suitors vying for her favor, her heart gravitated towards a man of modest means, yet her parents weren't in favor of their scandalous relationship. Undeterred by their disapproval and driven by an insatiable thirst for freedom, she conspired with her beloved to elope, to meet beneath the cloak of night in the depths of the forest. Carrying her mother's nuptial attire, family heirlooms, and a trove of gold. Beneath the sprawling branches of the ancient oak tree, she awaited her lover's arrival, her spirit buoyed by the promise of freedom. Yet, fate dealt a cruel blow, veiling her world in darkness as a cold blade pierced her chest, Her precious jewels vanished, and so did the very essence of her being—her heart. Resigned to an eternity of solitude beneath the tree where her life was brutally stolen, she languished in desolation, believing love to be a distant memory. Yet, against all odds, her world turned for the better with the arrival of a gentleman with a white locks like the snow and eyes as clear as the blue sky. In his presence, she found comfort and companionship, her days enlivened by his constant presence. Now, he stands here after he professes an unwavering devotion, her once-forgotten heart fluttering with newfound hope.

Everything became overwhelming to grasp as their words echoed relentlessly within his mind. Proposing to a dead bride was a scenario he never could have fathomed. With a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, he seized the fleeting chance to escape this strange world of the deceased in hopes of finding his way back to the land of the living.

Or that's what he hoped for. Somehow you managed to find him easily. Now he sat there on a weathered old bench while the deceased bride droned on about the beautiful view before them. From your spot beside Satoru, you stole a glance back at him and noticed his vacant stare. Clearing your throat, you offered an apology, “I'm sorry if I've been going on too much. I tend to do that when I am overexcited.”

Satoru snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of your melodic laughter. He sat there, observing your features, marveling at how, even in death, you still exuded a radiant beauty, the same beauty from the dreams he had of you.

“I want you to know how deeply sorry I am for what happened to you. However, I really need to head home now.”

“What do you mean? This your home now!”

Satoru sighed heavily, closing his eyes briefly before he met your gaze. “I don’t even know your name.”

You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before responding with a smile. “It’s, (Y/N).”

(Y/N).

“Now. I believe I’ve been talking too much. I will like to get to know my soon-to-be husband better!”

Satoru couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at your enthusiasm, avoiding your gaze as he glanced down at his joined hands. “Well, there isn’t much about me. You know some of it—how I used to retreat into the woodland to sketch, seeking solace in the verdant embrace of the forest.” He paused mid—sentence, stealing a fleeting glance at you before once more evading your eyes. “I never thought you were there all along.”

“What about your family?” You asked, curiosity piqued.

Ah, his family. Before he realized he started talking with ease. “I used to live with my mother and father, being the only child. But when I was seventeen, my father passed away,” he says, his voice carrying a weight of melancholy. “Don’t get me wrong, I hold a deep appreciation for my mother. But, the connection I had with my father was unmatched. While my mother often had expectations of me, my father always urged me to heed my own intuition, to follow the path that felt right to me.”

As he trailed off, your heart went out to him with sympathy. You lifted a hand as if to offer comfort, but quickly retracted it, mindful not to impose any pressure on him. “He sounded like a good man.” You whispered.

“He was indeed, one of a kind.”

Both of you sat in silence until a sudden idea struck you. You turned to meet his gaze directly and suggested. “I just had an idea! Tell me his name. Perhaps we can track him down together!”

Ah, yes. He had momentarily forgotten for a moment he was now in the realm of the departed, and his father was dead.

“Octavius Gojo.” He replied.

Your eyes widened in recognition upon hearing the mention of the familiar name. “Octavius Gojo, is your father?”

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

You gasped with exhilaration, clasping his hands in yours. “Of course. How could I not have realized sooner? You both are so alike! I had the pleasure of knowing Octavius when I was alive. He was truly the finest man I ever knew.”

“How…how did you come to know my father?”

With a wide smile, you released his hand to settle down your hands on your lap. “As you were told, I was born into a wealthy family with high expectations placed upon me. When I was thirteen, my parents sought the finest piano tutor for me, and fate led me to Octavius. From the outset, our bond transcended the typical teacher—student relationship. Octavius became a friend of mine, sharing countless stories with me. One day, he told me he had a son who shared a passion for music like myself, expressing a desire for us to meet. Unfortunately, we never got to do that as circumstances forced us to part ways. As I reached a marriageable age, Octavius faced daily challenges within his company. I was devastated to learn of his passing through the grapevine, never having the chance to bid him farewell. However, I died one year later after his passing so our paths aligned again. Now, I find myself engaged to his son!”

Satoru was rendered speechless upon learning this new revelation, his thoughts swirling with a mixture of emotions. Who would have thought, he was supposed to meet you ages ago? Thinking if he did, perhaps you would still be alive instead of falling into the wrong hands who led you to your demise. However, there’s time to think about the past and his accidental engagement with you later. Right now, he must see his father. Driven by a sudden wave of determination, Satoru firmly grasped your hand and rose from the bench. “Lead me to my father.”

“What’s our plan?” Mrs. Winchester as she paced the living room while conversing with her husband. “That boy still hasn’t returned. We can’t cancel the wedding; are you aware of the financial repercussions? We’ll be left penniless, thrown on the streets without that inheritance! And don’t get me started with Mrs. Gojo. She hasn’t even bothered to come back.”

As her husband remained silent, Mrs. Winchester’s frustration boiled over. “Say something!”

“Don’t pressure me, woman!” Her husband interjected firmly from his seat, his eyelid twitching slightly with suppressed agitation. “We will figure something out.”

“We don’t have time to figure something out! Where will we find another groom for our daughter in such short time?”

“It is lamentable for that young man to disregard dear Catherine in such a manner; it is an act that cannot be forgiven.” Mr. Zenin's refined voice interjected into their dialogue taking them out of surprise. “Please forgive my intrusion; one of your servants granted me entry. I couldn't help but overhear the woeful plight of poor Catherine, who has to endure because of the cowardice of Mr. Gojo. I have made attempts to locate him, yet regrettably, he remains elusive. It is conceivable that he has left town.”

“Oh no—”

“Nevertheless, as a longstanding acquaintance, I stand ready to assume the role vacated by Mr. Gojo, to spare Catherine from any further public humiliation,” Mr. Zenin declared. “Moreover, I am willing to extend a respectable proposal, one far superior to what the Gojo family could offer.”

“Your willingness to undertake such a responsibility is truly admirable, Mr. Zenin, but—”

“Will your father agree with your choice?” Mr. Winchester questioned.

“My father has always had faith in my judgment, trusting that I make decisions for the best. I believe he would be pleased if I had the opportunity to unite with the daughter of his trusted confidant.”

Mr. and Mrs. Winchester exchanged glances, a silent agreement made between them.

“Very well, then. Let us waste no time and proceed with the preparations.” Mr. Winchester declared decisively.

“Mother, father, who are you talking to?” Catherine's voice echoed as she descended the stairs, her dress trailing behind her in anticipation of news about Satoru. To her surprise, she found her parents and Mr. Zenin waiting for her.

“Darling, there's good news—there will be a wedding after all.” Mrs. Winchester announced.

“Really? You found Satoru?” Catherine asked eagerly, her hopes rising.

Suddenly Mr. Zenin stepped forward, and took Catherine's hand in his, pressing a kiss to its back. “I will be your spouse, Miss Catherine. I won't allow that Satoru boy to humiliate you any further.” he declared with a disconcerting smile that sent a chill down Catherine's spine.

“What?” she thought, her mind reeling in disbelief. “No, this cannot be happening. How could I possibly marry him?”

“I shall return tomorrow morning, please excuse me.” Mr. Zenin declared, as he bid farewell to the family.

Catherine immediately rushed to her parents after his leave, “Father, Mother, please don't make me marry him.” She pleaded earnestly.

“Silly girl, it's our only recourse.” Mrs. Winchester asserted sternly. “Or do you wish to witness your parents succumb to impoverishment? We can no longer wait for Satoru Gojo who has absconded from his obligations to this family. We must face reality. It was our mistake to pin our hopes on that family when we had a more suitable candidate for you all along. Mr. Zenin will undoubtedly make a fine husband his affluence ensuring our security.”

Catherine stood there, her words caught in her throat, realizing her fate had been sealed, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

“Take a good rest child, you will be marrying Mr. Zenin tomorrow morning. And that’s final!”

Is this really happening? Is he truly going to reunite with his deceased father after three years? Satoru pondered, feeling the relentless thud of his heart against his chest.

“He's typically lingering nearby, indulging in those rotten apples from the market,” you remarked with a gentle chuckle, reminiscing about Octavius's eating preferences. “Personally, I find the cherries to be far superior.” Satoru dismissed your words as you began to trail off, not bothering to pay full attention to you and your stories, his focus fixed on finding his father. Impatiently, he stopped his walking, retracting his hand as he shot you a glare full of annoyance. “Could you please take me where my father is? I don’t have time for idle chatter. We have been walking for a while, do you really know where he is?.” Taking in his words, your expression faltered before you quickly composed yourself with a nod. It was understandable, you thought. He hasn’t seen his father for three years. You’re his wife, and a good wife is patient and understanding even if sometimes your husband’s words may be hurtful.

“Of course, my apologies for the distraction. I completely forgotten why are we here.” Satoru realized he had been too harsh on you, and before he could apologize to you, you walked ahead of him prompting him to follow.

“What are you standing there for? Come along.”

After what felt like ages, you both came to a halt in front of a grand old library, as a rush of memories flooded Satoru’s mind. He remembered when he was younger after his lessons hours, his father would take him to buy books, nurturing his love for reading. His father harbored a deep desire for a library, along with the wish to immerse himself in the world of music. However, the demand of his job with his loan company has kept him chained to endless hours of work, until the company eventually went bankrupt. His mother claimed that his father was solely responsible for the mismanagement of his prosperous company, but Satoru thinks otherwise. He knew his father was well capable of the job. He knew his father to be intelligent and persuasive, qualities that didn’t align with the image of someone who would neglect his own company. Satoru had long suspected that something was behind his father’s bankruptcy. However, he didn’t have time to test his theories.

You stepped forward towards the door, turning to Satoru as you spoke. “Wait here. I’ll check if he’s inside.” before disappearing into the library. All Satoru could do now was wait anxiously outside the library.

As you ventured further into the library, darkness shrouded your surroundings, with only the feeble glow of the moon casting a faint illumination, making it challenging to discern your way through the dimly lit space. “Hello, is anyone here?” You called while searching for a match and a candle to provide you light. You paused your search as a faint light from upstairs caught your attention. Gradually, the silhouette of an older man emerged from the shadows, until his full figure was revealed with his inseparable crow companion perched upon his shoulder. A sense of warmth flooded over you as you smiled widely at the sight of your longtime friend.

“Octavius.”

Upon hearing your voice, Octavius turned his light towards you, his lips curling into a smile mirroring yours with the exact amount of affection. “Darling. It’s been quite some time since we last met.” He says with genuine appreciation, missing the days both of you spent together talking endlessly. It’s been months since he last saw you, as you insisted on staying buried under your usual spot under the tree, patiently waiting for Satoru’s arrival every day.

“I couldn’t agree more!”

Octavius chuckled softly, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet confines of the library. “What brings you here today, dear? Is there something I can do for you?”

“No, no. That’s not the case. I’m not here to burden you with my matters—”

“(Y/N).” his voice interposed disrupting your train of words. “You know very well that’s not true. Do not hesitate to seek my counsel, for I shall forever be at your disposal.”

Exhaling softly, you nod in affirmation to his discourse before commencing to elucidate the motives behind your visit to Octavius. “It’s a long story to tell. However, there’s someone outside whom I must introduce you—someone eagerly awaiting to meet you.”

“Oh, who might this eager visitor be?” Octavius queried with intrigue.

“You will see.”

“(Y/N), you're well aware of my distaste for surprises. Despite the fact my heart has stopped beating, this old man can still experience the sensation of a heart-stopping moment.” he quipped with a playful lilt adopting the tone of a father scolding his daughter.

You laughed.

“You're quite the dramatist, Octavius. Some things never change.” you teased, turning to exit the library and let Satoru in at once. However, just before departing, you glanced back at Octavius. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention. Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. Splendid. It has secured a place among my most cherished literary treasures.”

“I told you, didn’t I? The book is sheer perfection. Experiencing the emotions of a wronged man through the book is an incomparable feeling.”

“Indeed. I couldn't help but empathize with Dante's plight. Having your planned life ahead of you only to be taken away from wicked men.” you replied, continuing your conversation with Octavius about the recently read book he recommended to you. Reflecting on the parallels between the book's narrative and your own experiences. Your voice trailed off, standing in a moment of silence before you began to speak once again meeting his gaze. “Remarkably familiar, wouldn't you agree?”

Octavius cast a glance back at you, his gaze softened, recalling the tragedy of your fate.

“Now, now. It's not the moment for dwelling on the past, my dear.” Octavius gently intervened, pulling you out of your reverie. “Let’s welcome this special guest you’re so eager to present.” You nodded, refocusing on the purpose of your visit: to reunite your husband with his beloved father.

Noticing your prolonged absence, Octavius made his way downstairs, using the flickering light of a candle to guide him through the labyrinth of books. He sought to recommend a novel with a lighter, and more romantic storyline to uplift your spirits. After feeling a twinge of guilt because of the earlier conversation you both exchanged. With the sound of approaching footsteps echoing softly in the library, Octavius remained absorbed in his search among the books, his fingertips delicately tracing the textures “Ah, darling, I was just perusing for a new novel for you to enjoy. Considering your fondness for romance. I thought 'Middlemarch' might be a splendid choice. It boasts an excellent plot and remarkable prose. I'm certain you'll adore it.” He trailed off, turning to face you taking the book in hand. Yet as he turned, the book slipped from his bony fingers, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before him.

“Satoru?” Octavius gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. How was his son down here? No, he cannot be dead, his son’s skin yet hasn’t lost its color. He’s too young to be dead! It’s too early for them to meet up again. His mind reeled with confusion as he struggled to comprehend everything. Satoru's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he looked back at his father, meeting the form of his father after three long years. His poor father appeared more frail, his white hair thinner, his skin paler than ever, his bones showing off from his arms and his once vibrant blue eyes dulled with age. Despite these noticeable changes, along with the fact he’s meeting the deceased form of his father, Satoru couldn’t care less.

“Father,” Satoru called out, his voice thick with emotion, as tears of joy threatened to spill from his eyes, unable to believe they were finally reunited. Setting aside his light and his animal companion flying off his shoulder, he hurried towards his son. Without hesitation, he enveloped the tall figure of his son, holding him tightly close, still in a state of shock. Satoru released a quivering breath, his emotions overwhelming him while tears streamed down his cheeks. “Father.” he cried out once again. Satoru's embrace tightened as if he feared that loosening his grip would cause his father to vanish into thin air.

“Satoru, son.” his father whispered, his voice filled with emotion, “what are you doing here? You can't be here, not yet.”

Satoru chuckled through his tears, shaking his head as he continued to hold onto his father. “Don't worry about it, Father. I'll explain everything to you.”

For what felt like an eternity, they lingered in each other's embrace, time seeming to stand still as they reveled in the joy of their reunion.

“What!” his father's startled voice resonated through the desolate library, shattering the peaceful ambiance that had settled around them. “You're engaged to (Y/N)?”

Satoru heaved a weary sigh, nodding silently from his seat. “Believe me, Father. Everything is so confusing to me.”

“But, how?” His father's question lingered in the air, demanding further explanation. “Were you acquainted with her? When?” His father’s gaze bore into him, seeking clarity. “Did you truly exchange vows with her?”

“No!” He exclaimed, the words bursting forth. “It was all a mistake! I was meant to marry someone else.”

“Someone else? What do you mean?”

“Mother had arranged a marriage for me with the daughter of an affluent family,” Satoru lamented, his frustration evident in his speech. “We were slated to wed, yet due to a series of unfortunate circumstances, I am now entangled in an undesirable bond with a mere cadaver.”

His father absorbed Satoru’s words in silence, his eyes focused intently on the table before him. “It appears your mother failed to uphold my final wish for your future.” Raising his eyes to meet Satoru’s eyes, he asked with a solemn tone. “Do you hold affection for this woman?” His father’s question caught Satoru off guard, causing him to pause and reflect. Did he harbor genuine affection for Catherine?

“Though, my acquaintance with her may have been short. I was willing to give Catherine a chance. Love doesn’t magically appears, it grows.” Satoru confessed.

“What about (Y/N)? She didn't mean any harm.” his father reassured “Poor dear sought comfort in your presence to alleviate her solitude. You've shared a connection with her for two years, cherishing the moments you shared with her through your dreams. In a way, you've held affection for her, even if the affection you believed was for someone who didn't exist. If you were willing to give Catherine a chance, why can't you give (Y/N) a chance? Or is it because she is dead?”

“Yes, precisely because she's dead!” Satoru's voice resonated with frustration as he emphasized his point. “Can't you see? I could never marry her!”

Satoru's breaths grew heavier as he released his burdens, however, the sudden sympathetic regard from his father made him redirect his focus. Slowly turning around, Satoru saw you. As you were silently listening to their conversation. How much did you listen to? Standing there, you gaze at both of them with an expression that tugs at Satoru's heartstrings. Without uttering a word, you approached him, while avoiding his intense blue eyes. Now in front of him, you delicately disengaged the ring from your skeletal finger, bestowing it upon his palm. Your voice, scarcely more than a fragile whisper, as you said the following words, “I believe this belongs to you.”

In silence, Satoru witnessed your departure while a soft breeze gently lifted your torn veil, carrying it aloft in a poignant farewell. Despite the apparent closure, an unforeseen melancholy enveloped his spirit. He ought to have felt emancipated, liberated from a commitment borne of misinterpretation. Yet, your leaving left him feeling strangely hollow. Contemplating the ring now nestled in his hand, he was unsure of who this ring belonged to anymore.

Catherine stood before her reflection, as her maid adjusted the final embellishments of her bridal attire. Despite the turmoil within, she dared not shed a tear, constrained by the expectations placed upon her. As a bride who harbored no aspirations for matrimonial bliss, she bore the burden of her predicament with a heavy heart. In her vulnerability, her thoughts wandered to Satoru, a luminary amidst the gloom of her circumstances.

“Where are you, Satoru?” she silently pleaded, her heart yearning for his comforting presence. Despite her initial reservations about their engagement, once she met Satoru, he managed to break her walls down. The idea of facing the challenges ahead with a friend like Satoru by her side offered a semblance of comfort. Now, on the brink of union with Mr. Zenin, Catherine's spirit breaks. The prospect of forsaking the bond she shared with Satoru rents her soul asunder. Expecting her wedding day to be a harbinger of happiness, Catherine now stood in the dimly lit church, her senses dulled as she absorbed the echo of Mr. Zenin's vows. While the attendees were wearing solemn expressions, appeared eager for the ceremony to conclude as soon as possible.

Catherine now finds herself enveloped in a state of detachment, her body present but her mind adrift in a realm far removed from the present moment. The touch of Mr. Zenin's arm around her waist repulsed her. Her spirit ached for liberation from the shackles of this marital prison, She dreaded the touch of Mr. Zenin, and its suffocating weight. Following the exchange of vows and the priest's proclamation of their union, Catherine raised her gaze, tears glistening in her brown eyes. Each tear bore witness to the silent suffering she is enduring in the depths of her heart.

“Catherine, you are finally mine.” Mr. Zenin declared, leaning in to place a kiss upon Catherine's cheek. Forcing herself to stay still to receive his displays of fake affection. At that moment, Catherine came to the stark realization that she was utterly alone in the world.

As Satoru trailed after you, a tumult of emotions churned within him, burdened by the weight of guilt for inadvertently causing you pain. He had never intended to hurt you, he never meant to hurt anyone. Satoru went to the lengths of seeking guidance from the deceased, after learning your popularity among them. A man with a sword across his chest confirmed he had spotted you near their bar—the very place where you bought Satoru. He made his way to the tavern, and upon reaching its entrance, he was greeted by the delicate tones of a piano resonating in the empty locale. The melancholy melody being played for an absent audience. Satoru stepped inside, and as he advanced further, he caught sight of you at the organ, your back turned toward him. He couldn’t see your face, however it was easy to guess how you were feeling by the tones you were playing saturated with sorrow. Satoru drew nearer, positioning himself beside the organ.

“I apologize for my earlier words. I never meant to hurt you. It's just...” He paused, exhaling deeply before continuing. “Everything happened so quickly. I needed a moment to collect my thoughts.” Taking a seat beside you at the bench, he sought your gaze, yet you remained focused on the instrument, your fingers gracefully dancing across the keys. “I'm sorry for any misunderstandings. I should have been honest with you from the start—”

“It’s fine.” Your soft voice interjected as the melody ceased, though your gaze remained fixed on the keys “I shouldn’t be so naive. There's no nothing to forgive; I was the one who forced you to come down here in the first place.”

In the hush of the moment, Satoru's gaze remained fixed on the keys before him as he summoned the courage to voice one of his lingering uncertainties. “During those two years, were you there, quietly listening, keeping me company in the woods?” Your lack of response served as an eloquent confirmation.

“For two years, you stood by me, unbeknownst to me.” Satoru reflected with incredulous laughter. “I didn't know you at all, not in the physical sense. Yet, you still awaited my arrival every day for two years.”

“Why?” Satoru's question lingered, leaving you unable to provide an answer.

With a shaky sigh, you eventually admitted. “I found solace in your companionship. While listening to your poetic ramblings, as well as the way you express your emotions in solitude, believing you have no one to share them with. And your drawings, the ones you dismiss as 'not accurate,' when in truth, they are the most beautiful creations I've ever seen. And the time we've shared, even if only within the realm of your dreams... was among the most cherished experiences of my life. I simply find contentment in your presence.”

“I desired you to witness the best version of myself, fearing you might be disillusioned by my true appearance. When I heard you speak your vows, pure elation swept over me. So, I brought you here, convinced those vows were meant for me. However... I was too consumed by my own happiness to discern that your sentiments towards me were quite the opposite.” You trailed off with a wistful smile danced across your lips. “You're light, illuminating the paths of those lost in the dark. Your presence has profoundly enriched my life, without you even realizing it. In many ways, you saved me. It's quite amusing to say that when I'm already dead.” After some moments of silence, your fingers rested on the piano’s keys once again playing your previous melody.

Satoru found himself taken aback by the profound depths of your heartfelt confession, his innermost sentiments stirred by the sincerity of your words, yet incapable of expressing the intricate blend of emotions swirling within him. Observing your resumption of the melody, he was overcome by an irresistible impulse to participate, delicately extending his hand to caress the keys from his vantage point, momentarily interrupting the ethereal ambiance of your composition. Startled by this unexpected interjection, you paused and lifted your gaze to meet his, curiosity reflected in your eyes. Satoru let out a relieved smile upon seeing your eyes again. When Satoru asked if he could play a piece for you, you nodded stiffly, your hands resting on your lap as you allowed him to take over the piano. Starting softly, his notes echoed the melancholic undertones of your previous melody, but as the piece unfolded, the volume swelled and his fingers danced across the keys with practiced ease, as though the music flowed effortlessly from within him. Listening to his composition, a sense of déjà vu washed over you, recognizing the melody as something familiar, yet unable to place it. Before you knew it, your fingers found their way to the organ, seamlessly blending into Satoru's piece as the two of you created a harmonious melody together. In that sublime moment of shared musical communion, your eyes met in a silent exchange, each glance suffused with an unspoken understanding and connection that transcended the boundaries of spoken language.

Both of your fingers ceased their movements, bringing the beautiful melody to a gentle stop.

Satoru's smile grew as he spoke, “Do you happen to recognize this piece?”

You nodded, allowing a smile to grace your lips as well. “I do, but strangely, I can't recall where I heard it.”

“It was my father's cherished composition.” His words hung in the air, and at that moment, a profound memory stirred within you, unlocking a hidden piece of your past.

The sunlight on that particular day felt unusually warm, its rays enveloping you in a comforting embrace as you made your way out of the gardens. Entering the musical room, you paused at the doorway, captivated by the sight of Octavius already engrossed in playing a melody you had never heard before. Respecting his concentration, you lingered silently, allowing the symphony of notes to wash over you in a mesmerizing wave.

When Octavius eventually ceased playing and glanced back at you, “How long were you standing there, dear?” he asked.

“Long enough to witness such a masterpiece.” you replied warmly, appreciating the sentiment behind his composition.

With a gesture, Octavius invited you to join him at the bench, which you accepted without hesitation. “I composed this piece for my son.” he revealed, prompting your curiosity.

“Your son?” you inquired.

Octavius nodded, a hint of concern resting in his eyes. “Yes, my 12-year-old son. Sometimes, I worry that he feels alone in this world. So I composed this piece, so when he feels lonely he can feel my presence through it.” A gentle smile graced his lips as he continued, “Would you like to meet him? He's a polite and friendly boy, with a great passion for music and books. I'm certain the two of you will get along just fine.”

Touched by Octavius's openness and the opportunity to meet his son, you nodded eagerly, grateful for the chance to have a connection with someone who shared your love for the arts.

Lost in thought, you hadn't realized you were zoning out until Satoru's worried voice broke through your reverie, calling out to you. Startled, you blinked and refocused your attention, turning towards him with a sheepish smile.

Standing up, you extended your hand to Satoru, with a determined gleam in your eyes. “Come with me.” Satoru sensing your determination, he took your hand, ready to follow wherever you led.

“Please, Octavius. There has to be something you can do.” You pleaded.

Octavius sighed deeply, his eyes closing momentarily as he wrestled with your request. "It is unnatural and perhaps risky, but surely there's a book for it.” he conceded reluctantly.

Satoru, perplexed by the exchange, he approached with a furrowed brow and a hand gently placed upon your shoulder, urging you to face him. “(Y/N). What’s going on? What are you talking about?”

Your response was but a sheepish smile, accompanied by a gentle pat upon his hand before withdrawing. “A solution has been found.”

“Here it is—” Octavius's voice interjected after some moments of searching and inspecting the book's contents, as he descended the stairs, carrying a large book with him. “This will do.” As Octavius presented the large book containing the sought-after solution, you stepped forward to retrieve it, walking towards Satoru and extending the book to him. Puzzled, Satoru stared down at you, his confusion palpable.

“This volume contains the pathway to return to the realm of the living. There is still time, but haste is paramount.” Satoru lifted the book from your skeletal hands, a sense of unease crept over him, a nagging feeling that something wasn't right.

“I’m not going back.” Satoru declared firmly, his statement catching you off guard with its unexpectedness.

“What?”

“Son, what do you mean?” Octavius interjected, moving forward to stand beside you, both of you staring at Satoru with a blend of perplexity and apprehension.

“I said, I’m not going back. There's no point in returning.” Satoru clarified, his gaze locking onto yours with a poignant intensity. He gently took your hand in his and withdrew the ring from his pocket, the one you had given him earlier under the impression it didn't belong to you. With a tender touch, he slid it onto your finger.

“Satoru?”

“Marry me.” You stood rooted to the spot, enveloped by the weight of his request, feeling the gravity of the moment press upon you from all sides.

“Son, you must know what you are getting yourself into. As you can see, my dear (Y/N) is dead. Your marriage will pose complications; the vows are solemnized only until death do you part, and death has already parted her. For it to be an authentic union, it demands a significant sacrifice.” You released Satoru and turned to face Octavius.

“You mean?”

“Satoru would have to forsake the life he once knew and renew his vows in the realm of the living, partaking in the sacred wine of ages.” Octavius elucidated further.

“Poison.” you gasped, the word heavy on your tongue. Turning to Satoru, your eyes pleaded with him, filled with desperation., you begged, “Satoru, you see? You can’t do this. I could never ask you this. You’re young and have a whole life ahead of you, Our time ran out, but there’s still time for you—”

“I will do it.” Satoru interrupted firmly, his resolve unwavering.

“No. You don’t know what are you saying.” you protested.

“If it entails sacrificing my life to be with you and my father down here, then I shall do so.” Satoru declared resolutely, taking your hand once again.

Overwhelmed by his declaration, you turned to Octavius for support, “Octavius, you must get your son to think right.”

Octavius sighed. “I will respect whatever decision my son takes. There’s nothing I can do.”

Satoru pulled you towards him, his gaze softening with tenderness. “Marry me, (Y/N). Properly this time. I will not let you suffer alone anymore.”

“What about Catherine?” You whispered.

“Catherine is a part of my past, a chapter that is now being closed. What matters now is us.” Despite the sincerity in his eyes, you couldn't shake the lingering doubt that lingered within your heart. Yet you find yourself accepting in the end. For so long you have yearned for this moment, now that you have it, you can't let his chance slip through your fingers so easily.

“Gather around everybody. A proper wedding shall take place back in the realm of the living and each of you is cordially invited to bear witness. Let us unite in celebration and love as my fiancé and I will embark on this journey together.”

“Thank you all for gathering here today to celebrate my union between myself and my beloved wife, Catherine.” Mr. Zenin addressed the gathering, his words carrying a weight of solemnity. “I vow before you all to be a steadfast companion to Catherine, offering my unwavering support through every joy and trail that life may present.” As he raised his glass of champagne in a toast, the guest remained indifferent to the gloomy union, obligated to witness. As for Catherine, she was lost in thought, unmoved by her husband’s words, her gaze distant and unfocused. “This day shall forever be etched in memory as the day I am blessed to call Catherine my own, and I swear to all of you that I will—”

Before Mr. Zenin could continue, the moment was shattered by a cacophony of screams echoing from outside. Panic ensued as the guests scrambled to their feet, their expressions wrought with concern as they went out to see what was the commotion about. Once they did, their eyes widened in horror at the surreal sight that greeted them; the undead walking among them! Their grotesque forms descended upon the town. The guests fled from the wedding party seeking refuge from the nightmare unfolding before their eyes. Between the chaos, Catherine despite the lingering fear inside her, she remains calm. Her eyes fixed on the procession of the undead making their way towards the town’s church. Without hesitation, she followed in their wake, her wedding dress trailing behind her. She couldn’t care less now that her husband ran off scared. As she makes her way to see who this strange wedding belongs to.

Once their beloved guests were settled into the church of the living, Octavius stayed behind with his son before the ceremony, placing a comforting hand upon Satoru’s shoulder. “Son, are you absolutely certain about your decision?” He was sure. He was ready to take responsibility and form a life with you even if it meant he would die.

Satoru met his father’s gaze and nodded resolutely. “Yes, father. I am certain. I cannot deny that I was initially overcome by fear and frustration, unable to comprehend the unfolding events. But now, I’m sure she is the one destined to walk by my side.” He admitted, his tone tinged with a sense of vulnerability. “What I regret is that we did not cross paths sooner, thinking that if we did. Perhaps, she will still be alive. For two long years, she waited faithfully for me and now I refuse to let her wait a moment longer. Today, I shall stand as her husband.”

“Finally, my son is marrying for love. That’s all ever I wish for you.” His father expressed with a touch of emotion.

Satoru’s smile widened as he nodded at his father’s words. “I will make you proud.”

“You have already done so,” his father affirmed, his hand tenderly caressed his cheek before letting go. “Now, go and make (Y/N) yours.”

As Satoru stood at the altar, he learned a couple of things in this unexpected journey. Despite the barriers of physical appearance and mortality, his love for you remains. With a new clarity, he pledged to honor and cherish you for all eternity. That’s the least he can do for you. As you entered the church, holding the dead bouquet that had accompanied you since the day you departed from the realm of the living, Satoru’s heart swelled with awe. Despite your bones sticking out, you exuded a timeless beauty that took his breath away. He regretted not having noticed your beauty sooner. As you got closer, Satoru took hold of you, standing together now as you prepared to exchange vows properly this time.

“With this hand, I shall lift the burden of your sorrows. Your cup shall never run dry, for I shall be your wine.” He recites now with ease the vows, holding the empty cup in his hand.

You found yourself gazing into those mesmerizing eyes, each hue reminiscent of the depths of the clear sky. You began to recite your vows as well, your voice carrying the weight of your love and commitment. “With this hand, I shall lift the burden of your sorrows.” You took hold of the wine ages, to pour it down Satoru’s cup. “Your cup shall never run dry, for I shall be—” For I shall be.

What are you doing?

You halted your vows, as your eyes fell upon a feminine figure observing the ceremony from the shadows.

Catherine?

A surge of conflicting emotions washed over you. This is wrong. Satoru’s smile waned as he noticed your hesitation. He shoots you an encouraging gaze urging you to continue. Though, you still were struggling to find your voice, stumbling over your words, unable to complete your vows.

“For I shall be your wine.” Satoru finished your sentence, his hand reaching for the cup containing the deadly elixir. But you intervened before he could take a sip.

“I can’t.”

Satoru’s beating heart shattered into a million pieces. “Why?”

“This isn’t right.”

“How so?” Satoru inquired, gently lowering the cup to grasp both of your hands.

“Satoru, I was intended to belong to another. Meant to be someone else’s wife. But my dreams were stolen from me, and now…I’ve stolen them from someone else.”

“I know all about your past.” Satoru interjected squeezing your hands together. “But none of that matters to me. All that matters is the present and what we can built together.”

You shook your head stubbornly, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, unable to hold back the emotions swirling inside you. “This isn’t love. What you feel for me is empathy. For a woman who met a tragic fate. You don’t love me Satoru.”

“I do love you,” Satoru exclaimed, his voice filled with desperation. “Don’t you see that I’m willing to die for you? I may have not realized my love for you before but now I’m here to redeem my actions. My heart belonged to you the very moment I saw you in my dreams.”

Your closed your eyes, your breaths coming out heavy. “You love Catherine. Not me.”

“No, you’re wrong.”

Both you and Satoru adverted your gazes as a female voice interrupted your conversation. Catherine stepped from the shadows, making her presence known. Satoru’s eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing with questions about her sudden appearance.

“We thought if we force this feeling love eventually it will turn real love so we wouldn’t be lonely. Satoru. He wants you.”

You couldn’t fathom her assertion, shaking your head with a resigned expression. “How could you possibly know?”

“I see it.” She insisted as she approached closer. Catherine then intertwined your hand with Satoru’s, her voice carrying a solemn assurance. “His love for you is genuine. Whatever sentiments he may have harbored for me were purely friendship.”

As she offered her reassurance with her kind words, Satoru’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, a profound sense of gratitude evident in his eyes.

“I love you, (Y/N).” Satoru’s voice was filled with sincerity and earnestness as he spoke, his eyes pleading with you to understand the depth of his feelings. “Please let me marry you today.”

He cradled your countenance in his palms as he inclined to savor your frigid lips bereft of vitality, while your tears entwined with the fervent kiss. You tried to resist him, yet you find yourself powerless, unable to deny the hold he has over your heart. Thus, you yielded, the profound affection you harbor for him overwhelms your every resistance. The embrace of the kiss loosens its hold, and he still cradles your face unable to let you go.

“Have you lost your senses? You've just kissed a dead person.” You uttered with a tearful chuckle.

“Dearest soon enough, I'll be in the same state.” He leaned in, his lips meeting the icy surface of your cheek in a gentle kiss.

“Ah, weddings! A scene that never fails to moisten my eyes. Yet, I must confess, a ceremony such as this—a bride from the realm of the departed, and a groom among the living—surely stands as a unique testament to the enduring power of love. Nevertheless, do we not all cherish tales of joyful resolutions?” Naoya's unexpected entrance into the church was marked by a calculated grin, his blonde locks framing his confident countenance as he surveyed the gloomy scene, his gaze inevitably drawn to his wife, Catherine standing beside the couple.

“Catherine, my dear, it is time to return home.” He declared, his tone tinged with an authoritative command. Catherine recoiled subtly at the sound of his voice, whispering a soft denial. Mr. Zenin, displeased by her response, advanced towards Catherine, seizing her wrist with an iron grip, compelling her to comply, eliciting gasps of astonishment from the gathered guests.

“You are mine to take! Where do you think you are going? Your dowry is my entitlement; do not forget the purpose behind our union!”

Catherine struggled against his hold, fixing him with a defiant glare. “What wealth? We possess none! This marriage was intended to salvage my family from ruin!”

“What!”Mr. Zenin erupted before he could respond further.

Satoru intervened, “Release her.”

Mr. Zenin turned to face Satoru with a scowl etched upon his features, his grip tightening around Catherine's wrist. “She's my wife, and I have the prerogative to do as I please with her.”

Amid the chaos, time seemed to pause as you recognized the man before you, memories of heartache flooding back at the sight of him. “Naoya?” Your voice pierced through the clamor, drawing his gaze toward you with immediate intensity upon hearing his name spoken by your lips.

“(Y/N)?”

“Our union shall forever be thwarted by the stringent decree of our family. My dearest, I find myself incapable of enduring another fleeting moment bereft of your presence. My affection for you knows no bounds, and I shall traverse any obstacle to claim you as my own.” Naoya proclaims, enfolding you closely against his chest, his lips tenderly grazing the crown of your head.

“Your sentiments mirror the intensity of my own, my beloved. The anguish of separation rends my very soul.” You reciprocate.

Naoya relinquishes the embrace, cradling your visage as his lips tenderly caress yours with fervent ardor, leaving you breathless.

“Let us elope. We must not allow ourselves to be ensnared by the strictures imposed upon us.” He proposes, his suggestion instilling a tremor of fear within you, yet overridden by the depth of your love for him.

“We shall convene within the bosom of the woodland at the stroke of midnight. Thereafter, we shall carve out our destiny together, emancipated from the shackles of societal convention.”

“Will you ever find satisfaction?” you queried, your voice trembling with poignant emotion. “I might have eventually forgiven your plundering of my riches, leaving me bereft and awaiting our union. But why… why did you have to snatch away my life as well?”

You can still keenly remember the feeling of his sword cleaving through your chest, the excruciating pain that tore through you, and the icy tendrils of the air wrapped around you while you lay there, bleeding out no one to offer solace or bid you farewell. Surrendering yourself to the inevitability of death, you found no escape, no alternative but to embrace the abyss that awaited.

“I didn't deserve that.” You whispered, tears tracing their path down your cheeks, a silent testament of your pain.

Satoru's inner fury simmered, his sense of indignation growing with each passing moment. He couldn't fathom the selfishness of the man before him, who callously stole your life for his own desires.

“Naoya.” a voice intervened, adding another layer of intensity to the scene. Naoya's grasp on Catherine loosened, allowing her to rush to your side.

“How's that bastard of your father doing?” Octavius now asked, standing before the blond man, his tone dripping with disdain.

“Octavius?” Naoya whispered, a flicker of recognition igniting within him as he beheld the deceased form of his father's former business partner.

“I see that you've inherited his foul blood, brimming with selfishness, ugliness, and pride.” Octavius spat, his words laced with venom. “You killed an innocent woman, deceitfully leading her on false promises—with the very things she held dear. Your family is nothing but a brood of vultures, feasting on the vulnerable. Your father ruined me, stripping away every ounce of my hard earned fortune, leaving my family defenseless. But that wasn’t enough, was it? Now you’ve followed in your father’s despicable footsteps by taking (Y/N)‘s life. I pray that you and your vile kin never found peace. For I know someone as wretched as yourself will never find redemption.”

Naoya erupted into laughter, his sarcasm dripping from every word. “You’re a fool, Octavius.” He taunted. “My father merely exploited your naivety to his advantage. Don’t blame me for it.”

His laughter abruptly ceased as a firm grip seized his shoulder. “That’s enough.” Satoru interjected, his eyes ablaze with a dangerous rage.

Naoya scoffed, shrugging off Satoru’s grip on his shoulder. In a swift motion, he lunged towards one of the guests, seizing a sword protruding from their open chest. “I refuse to leave here without my wife!”

“(Y/N), take Catherine with you.”

You complied at Satoru’s command, positioning Catherine behind you.

Naoya’s eerie laughter rang inside the church, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Do I have to kill you too?” He sneered.

“Satoru!” His father’s voice thundered, hurling a sword towards his son to equalize the confrontation. Now both men were engaged in a battle of life and death, their swords clashing against each other, the metallic clang reverberating through the room. While Naoya was a skilled swordsman, Satoru was inexperienced in the art of combat. Though, he fought with raw determination, as they were both thrown around, refusing to yield. Blinded by rage, Satoru unleashed a fierce strike that sent Naoya crashing to he ground, his arm slashed by the force of the blow.

“What are you waiting for?” Naoya tainted with a mocking smile, challenging him to end his life. “Kill me!!”

He hungers to end his life for the pain his father inflicted upon Octavius, his malevolence in ending your life as well for forcing Catherine’s hand in marriage.

In a moment of clarity, the thirst for vengeance fades from his eyes, as he lowered his sword, catching Naoya off guard. “Your fate is not mine to decide.” Satoru proclaimed, turning away and motioning for you to take his sword. Descending from the altar, you approached, ready to meets out your own justice. Lifting the sword with both of your hands, you prepared to strike. Naoya gasped in fear, shutting his eyes together to the incoming attack, however it never came. Confusion etched across his face as he looked up at you, only to be met with a cold, unwavering glare.

“I refuse to let your blood stain my hands.” You declared, tossing the sword across the room, and turning to your guests with a serene smile. “My beloved guests, the celebration shall continue. Join us for an after-party.” They chattered among them with eerie and anticipated smiles, as they circled around Naoya’s fallen form. Naoya’s cries of desperation echoed through the hall, but you remained unmoved by his pleas, allowing the deceased to drag Naoya away to face the most appalling punishments reserved for those as wicked as him.

Approaching Satoru and Catherine, you initiated with a genteel squeeze of Catherine's hand, imparting a gracious smile. "I extend my deepest gratitude," you conveyed with earnestness. Catherine reciprocated with a nod, gently returning the pressure of your hand. “There's no need to thank me.”

Releasing Catherine's hand, you turned towards Satoru, who already held the chalice containing the wine of ages. Despite his prior avowal of readiness to offer himself for you, an insatiable need for confirmation lingered. Satoru nodded with a steadfast demeanor, his grasp on your hand unwavering. “Without a doubt.” he asserted with conviction.

Satoru remains true to his word, committing to spend an eternity by your side in the realm of the deceased. Perhaps, amid the vast expanse of eternity, both of you may find each other once more in another life, vowing never to forget one another. This time around, you plan to live a longer life, cherishing every moment together and appreciating the time you have without regrets.

Author’s Note Please don’t let this fic flopped I really worked hard on this one. Please check out my other works at my page, thanks for reading!!

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black-lake · 1 year

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astro observations 9

hey folks, I found new stuff to talk about. this is more of an outer planets and generations obs 🚀

——

✮⌁ when uranus conjunct pluto happened during 1964, we saw a lot of rebellious music, fashion and other forms of expression, the beatles, bowie's debut album, twiggy, bob dylan.. etc. It was an important decade for many changes and revolutions. It's why so many people are still influenced by the art, music and appeal of that era. Even though it was a relatively short period, the intense need for freedom was loudly expressed that decade. I think with pluto in aquarius we may see similar events, but on a larger scale and with a far more lasting impact.

✮⌁ neptune will move into aries in 2025, and boy when I tell you I can't wait, I terribly mean it. I think neptune in pisces wasn’t doing it for me, I had creative expectations for it but it was all about spirituality and faith practices on the internet and an unhealthy addiction to it. this was right after neptune in aquarius which we all know made the internet an addiction in itself.

✮⌁ It had its positive impact, being open-minded about different beliefs, exploring our intuition and faith and other abstract topics. but we've already seen the negative impact. It's mainly the spirituality addiction on the internet that has became almost inescapable, replacing reality, practices performed and consumed by really young individuals which could distort their view on the world at an older age. living in an illusion and assumption of everything and everyone, believing everything you hear blindly, because of your or someone else's false sense of intuition will make the world more closed-off and less likely to evolve. it can create a reversed effect, inducing fear of real life interactions, closed-mindedness and seclusion.

✮⌁ with neptune in aries, we will come out of our shells and live in the real world, we will explore the world with a new set of eyes and a fresh sense of passion and childlike wonder. We're less likely to listen to our fears and other people's assumptions and bs. It's a new astrological cycle. Our collective hopes, dreams, fantasies and passions are reborn. Now especially when uranus moves into gemini, the same year, people will be more encouraged to become social and intimate, more fun talks and activities, I hope 🥹 this will also help fuel the inventive ideas pluto in aquarius brings with it.

✮⌁ y'all there's more to astrology than just money, success and fame. you can explore the world with that tool, thousands of things to talk about. there're topics that aren't given as much attention here. if you have something interesting and new you posted or you wanna talk about and are shy plssss just share it in the comments I'm all for ittt I wanna see it.

✮⌁ last time pluto was in aquarius 1778-1798, there was an industrial revolution going on, the peak of "the age of enlightenment", the french revolution, and many other political revolutions. the battery, hot-air balloon and parachute were some of the things invented. uranus was discovered in 1781. fun fact, the airplane was invented when pluto was retrograde in gemini in 1903, which makes sense since it rules over flying and air travel, also uranus was in sagittarius which rules travel as well, so interestingly enough there was a uranus-pluto opposition.

✮⌁ when uranus moves into gemini (ruling air travel) and with pluto being in aquarius, we literally may see spaceship inventions or spacecrafts and rockets that will launch to space. we may even be able to travel to a certain planet or at least find something new about it. we may find creatures or living things in space. air travel may look different, hydrogen-powered planes, cleaner and eco-friendly energy sources. at the very least we may hear of new scientists, and keep up with them.

✮⌁ any outer planet in libra, is a timeline I'd like to skip if I ever lived in, which I won't thankfully. It's by far the least sign that has potential to bring evolution and advancement to a generation, excluding aspects, it just ain’t doing much. Idk what it is, but maybe people are less likely to do anything considered immoral or unaccepted, they're more likely to do things like pleasing the generation's expectations and opinions. It brings a sense of connectivity, an understanding of comprise to connect and relate to our environment, and a focus on relationship matters, which of course is a building brick to bigger changes like all the transits are. but for me, not an exciting time, ig it's why I'm born in neptune and uranus in aquarius gen 💀

✮⌁ many of us have parents that have uranus or pluto in libra, and tbf, they likely were closed minded, people pleasing or even racist at times. but our pluto sag ass knew how to deal with it. how many of y'all gen z's gave your mommy a lecture on lgbt+ rights and the people with other cultures and backgrounds? 🖐🏼 also butting heads over someone wearing something on the streets, I'm like "THEY CAN DO whatever they want, let them live"

✮⌁ speaking of pluto in sagittarius, I'm a little underwhelmed. dgmw we made so many changes and paved the way for future generations, but moreso, perspective wise. I didn't see many tangible changes from this gen compared to pluto in scorpio, which was wild in terms of sexual expression, experiments, conspiracies, institutional corruption, societal and medical change. pluto in sag was kinda mild, we allowed everyone's voice to be heard, explored other cultures and lifestyles, probably have friends from all around the world, we're willing to learn and are open to all sources of knowledge, we're truth tellers and we won't shut up. I guess our mission was too easy for us.

✮⌁ pluto in sag gen probably have challenging experiences relating to higher education, college years may have been dark and even traumatic for many esp if you also have it conjunct chiron 🏴‍☠️ even our sense of belief in ourselves and optimism is wounded, we put on a happy front because we see a better future for the world at large, but not for us, like we're some type of teachers or gurus raising a child.

✮⌁ if you have pluto conjunct chiron, you may feel dismissed or misplaced. things can hurt deeply with this. this also may indicate some family karma that needs to be resolved. your ancestors may have done shady stuff that cost them a lot. you are here to change that and find the light that future generations will thank you for. you got the resources to do so since conjunction is the most beneficial of all. you got a lot of healing and transformative powers. since it's in sag, it may be about clearing up nasty beliefs and perceptions of people and the world, even harmful actions and disrespect towards different individuals. you're the truth-seeker that refuses to take on outdated traditions and beliefs.

✮⌁ pluto in capricorn gen understand the value of monetary resources because they experienced a restriction of it at some point in their lives. there's this feeling of restriction coming from societal rules or memories of such repressive time, which they may feel the need to go against and prove themselves by working and gaining more power. they know how to survive in times of chaos and make the most out of what they have. they may have goals of creating some type of legacy for themselves and future generations. also maybe capricorn ruling the skeletal system is why caps give the 💀🩻🪦🏴‍☠️ impression, sry I keep making jokes about y'all, but ya dgaf 🫶🏼

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antianakin · 10 months

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It's honestly really depressing as someone who likes Qui-Gon as a character to see fanon constantly reduce him to "enlightened maverick" or "arrogant asshole" and absolutely nothing in-between or combined. Qui-Gon can be SUCH an interesting character if people would just LET HIM be an interesting character.

Qui-Gon is also, in many ways, there to move the story forward and send us a few necessary messages and that's it. He's not the main character of anything, the story isn't ABOUT him at all. Qui-Gon is there to find Anakin and bring him together with Padme and Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon is there to foreshadow the destruction of the Jedi Order through his death at Maul's hands. Qui-Gon is there to parallel Obi-Wan's own death decades later, to pass the baton of the story on to the next generation. He shows us that the Jedi are not superhuman, they're not invincible, he's there to tell us about Anakin's prophecy and introduce the theme of choices.

If you're not looking at Qui-Gon as a character there to get across certain messages and as a catalyst for the rest of the story, you're probably missing the point of Qui-Gon and looking for things that quite simply aren't there to see. It's not that Lucas was such a terrible writer that Qui-Gon can only be distilled down to "enlightened maverick" or "arrogant asshole," it's that you're probably just missing what Qui-Gon's character is actually there to DO. Lucas allows Qui-Gon to be more stable as a character because he has to keep moving the story forward around all of the other characters who are growing and changing. Qui-Gon represents the Jedi as a whole throughout The Phantom Menace, he is our first true introduction to what the Jedi are like during this golden era when the Jedi are still doing fairly well. We know Obi-Wan and Yoda when they've both been in exile for ages and they're very old, and Obi-Wan in The Phantom Menace is still a student. So Qui-Gon is the first true Jedi Knight of the Republic in his prime that we ever get to see and know. He shows us their strength, their wisdom, their abilities, their compassion. And then he dies. Not because Qui-Gon did anything particularly wrong, but just because the Sith he was fighting managed to outmaneuver him.

So by looking at Qui-Gon as nothing more than an arrogant (sometimes abusive) monster or an enlightened maverick, you're sort-of just glancing over the whole point of Qui-Gon and reducing him to something less than what he's actually intended to be which is representative of the Jedi as a WHOLE. Lucas is all about poetry and rhyming, he likes creating parallels and patterns between his films. Qui-Gon dies as an homage and reference to Obi-Wan's own death because that's how the wise master archetype works in fantasy. Qui-Gon dies as a foreshadowing of the destruction of the Jedi that will occur in two more movies, a destruction we all know is coming because this is a prequel story. We're supposed to see what Obi-Wan will become in Qui-Gon and even what he will SURPASS in Qui-Gon, we're supposed to see the beginning of the end in his story. Qui-Gon, much like Palpatine in some ways, is a symbol more than he is a character.

What's funny is that NO ONE says the same about Obi-Wan in A New Hope, no one claims that Obi-Wan is so badly written because he fits into a very specific archetype that he is contradictory as a character. We all just recognize that Obi-Wan falls into that character trope and accept that for what it is. But people want to make Qui-Gon into something both more and less than the archetype he exists within, and it sort-of ruins him either way.

Qui-Gon isn't perfect, but he's also definitely right about a lot of things, he's wise and intuitive and compassionate, much like the Jedi are in general. Just because there are some things he does you could question a little, at least in his method if not his motivation, doesn't mean he's any less wise or compassionate as a person. And just because he IS right about a lot of things doesn't mean that he's meant to be right in CONTRADICTION to the rest of the Order or even just the Council itself.

People need to take a step back and look at the bigger picture with regards to Qui-Gon, look at the narrative role he actually plays and the parallels he presents with the rest of the films (the ones made by Lucas).

#star wars #qui-gon jinn #jedi #jedi council #jedi order #pro jedi #jedi council respected #jedi council appreciation #jedi order respected #jedi order appreciation

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colourstreakgryffin · 8 months

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The Six Pillars; Masterlist #2~

Welcome to my first temple~! Here is the rest of the Masterlist I couldn’t fit on my first one~! This is the era of my hardwork on Tumblr

💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Pillar #1: Demon Slayer~❤️

🧡 Kyojuro: Troublesome Taps

🧡🩷 Kyojuro and Mitsuri: Child of Flames

💜❤️ Genya and Kaigaku: Body Matters

💙 Muichiro: Three Little Kittens

❤️ Tanjiro: Protection Squad

🌈💜🧡 Douma, Kokushibo and Kyojuro: Little Gem

💚 Kanao: Sunflowers and Roses

💜💜 Obanai and Kokushibo: Snowy Irises

❤️ Muzan: Ruler of my Heart

💜 Obanai: Elite Nine, Lord of Poisons

🧡 Kyojuro: Fantasy is True

💜 Obanai: Sombre Joke

💜 Shinobu: Longterm Infatuation

❤️ Tanjiro: Golden Child

❤️ Muzan: New Member

❤️💜 Yoriichi and Michikatsu: Day and Night Chatting

🌈 Douma: Creamy Paint

❤️ Muzan: Wandering Child

💜🌈❤️ Kokushibo, Douma and Akaza: Nicknaming Game

💜 Shinobu: Bath of Scolding

💚 Sanemi: Grandest Reward

🧡❤️ Kyojuro and Akaza: Falling Hopes

🖤 Zohakuten: The Victim

❤️ Tanjiro: Just So Snuggly

🖤 Zohakuten: Hate and Love, Black and White

💛 Hotaru: I Don’t Like You

💜 Kokushibo: Round and Plump

❤️💛💜 Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Obanai: Grade Falter

❤️ Tanjiro: Truly Accidental

🌈 Douma: Fascinating Tales

💙 Giyuu: All the Respect

💚 Karaku: Temple of Leisure

💚💜 Sanemi and Genya: Internal Guardians

💛💚❤️ Urogi, Karaku and Sekido: Hybrid Fun

💚 Gyutaro: Shared Links

💙💚❤️ Aizetsu, Karaku and Sekido: Multi-Babysitter

💜🩷 Obanai and Mitsuri: Dear Reptile

💙 Giyuu: Hopeless Attempts

❤️❤️ Muzan and Akaza: Daddy’s Support

💙 Yuichiro: A Bad Feeling

❤️❤️ Sekido and Kaigaku: Work Policy

💜💜 Kokushibo and Obanai: Protective Impairment

🧡 Kyojuro: Sweet Nightmares

🧡 Senjuro: Musical Heartbeat

❤️ Rui: Funnel Blanket

🌈 Douma: Rainbow Bridge

💜 Obanai: Happy Birthday, King

❤️ Tanjiro: My Bad Habits

❤️ Rui: Spinning Web

💙 Yuichiro: Foggy Head

💜 Obanai: Sugar Catches the Fly

💚💜🧡 Sanemi, Shinobu and Senjuro: Pirate Royal

❤️ Akaza: Power Pair

❤️ Yoriichi: Far Too Attached

💜🌈❤️ Kokushibo, Douma and Akaza: Book By the Cover

❤️ Kamaboko Squad: Merfolk AU

💜 KNY: Hilarity Contest

💜 KNY: Cookie Tray

💛 Hantengu: Embrace Me and Kiss Me

💜 KNY: Crack Mess

💙 Gyokko: Evil Spirit

💜 Kokushibo: Item Mountain

💜 Kokushibo: Faster, Stronger, Smarter

❤️ Yoriichi: So Mean

🌈 Douma: Grand Party

❤️ Muzan: Trio of Disaster

❤️💜 Tanjiro and Obanai: Social Aid

❤️ Tengen: Flashiest Father

❤️ Muzan: True Angel

💜 Obanai: Bandy Bandy

🖤 Gyomei: Child of Sunshine

💜 Kokushibo: Amore Shrine

🩷 Kanae: Loving Spouse

💙 Muichiro: Doctor Dick and Balls

💙 Muichiro: Entomophobia

💜 Shinobu: Amblyodipsa

💙 Muichiro: Mighty Stead

💙🩷❤️ Muichiro, Mitsuri and Tanjiro: Scary Habit

❤️❤️💜 Kaigaku, Tengen and Obanai: Beauty and Grace

💚💙💜 Sanemi, Giyuu and Shinobu: Worse Accident

🧡💛 Hashira: Playing Favourites

💚 Sanemi: Little Things

❤️ Sekido: One’s Bewilderment

❤️ Muzan: Hide and Seek

💙🩷 Muichiro and Mitsuri: Gamble of a Lifetime

🩷 Mitsuri: Pink Hognose

💙 Muichiro: Bubble Pop

🌈 Douma: Rubbing Post

💙💜❤️ Muichiro, Obanai and Tanjiro: Not Your Fault

💙💜💚 Giyuu, Obanai and Sanemi: Lady of my Dreams

🧡💛 Hashira: Excitement Test

Pillar #2: Jujutsu Kaisen~💜

🖤 Toji: Little Crybaby

💚 Maki: Multiple Problems

💙 Satoru: Daddy’s Clingy Little Princess

Pillar #3: JoJo Bizarre Adventure~💚

—

Pillar #4: Death Note~💙

🖤 L: K.I.N.K

🖤 L: Kindred Shackle

Pillar #5: Haikyuu~💛

—

Pillar #6: Record of Ragnorak~🩷

🧡 Buddha: Enlightenment Gone Corrupted

💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

Additional Pillar~🖤

💙 Tomura: Cracking Bond

🖤 Tumblr Trend: Five Things

Here is the middle section of this blog’s overall Masterlist~ Masterlist #3

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #anime and manga #sorcery fight #jujutsu kaisen #haikyuu #jojo bizarre adventure #death note #record of ragnorak #anime imagines #imagines #demon slayer x reader #sorcery fight x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #haikyuu x reader #death note x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure x reader #record of ragnorak x reader

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theresattrpgforthat · 10 months

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Help! My fiance won't stop not killing people! Do you know of an rpg that plays well with one DM and one PC that still has the aesthetics of DnD or classic fantasy, but where violence is more of a last resort than the primary way to resolve conflicts? One where you can actually feel like a good guy.

THEME: Non-Combat, Heroic Fantasy

Hello there, so I’m going to include games in this recommendation that may not be explicitly for two players, but can be conceivably be run with one player and one GM. This is because a number of duet games are built to provide roles for the players that don’t slot easily into the “GM” and “Player” role. I hope you find something that fits both of your goals!

GROK?!, by Lester Burton.

GROK?! is an adventure role-playing game where you assume the role of an adventurer in a gonzo world of boundless plausibility and use your ingenuity and resourcefulness to overcome strange and perilous threats.

Planet Grok was once a haven for trans-dimensional migrants and a bastion of advanced technomancy, until a cataclysm rendered it a desolate hollow planet. Now, feral monstrosities haunt its chasms, cities float among the clouds, and a derelict space station encapsulates the planet and bathes the world in perpetual phosphorescent radiation. Yet, a new era of enlightenment is dawning. Civilizations grow from the ashes, relics of immense power await those who would learn their lost secrets, and threats of caste warfare loom as leaders vie for power. All the while, a creeping black nothingness peers up through the hollow of the world.

This is a game heavily inspired by a lot of heavyweight games that exist in the ttrpg scene, such as Cortex Prime, Savage Worlds, Numenera… the list goes on. The creator describes a “universal resolution” system that is also “fail forward.” This means that you use the same resolution mechanic for every action your character takes, and instances where you fail still move the story forward. I won’t say that it prioritizes other methods before combat, but it certainly looks like you can play it that way. Aesthetically it’s a bit more science-fantasy, but the digital copy is only a dollar, and the Quickstart is free to download on the Itch.io page, so it might be worth checking out.

A One In A Million Chance At Adventure, by Jocher Symbolic Systems.

This is a game where you play the roles of, often unwilling, sometimes zealous, pawns in the cosmic octarine coloured narrative. Your character is not necessarily a "hero" per se, instead one could possibly see it as being important to the story. Characters like yourself do have a knack for not dying as often as a common mortal (or undead if that has been your unfortune). With this follows that you'll naturally have a higher chance of actually, possibly, doing some heroic deeds, just by sheer mathematical logic. Unless, of course, you are the type of adventurer who'd prefer a cup of hot tea and soft slippers and a reliable day job. That does severely reduce the odds of let's say beheading a mythical beast of ill repute or befriending the immodest wood nymphs of Howondaland.

This is a game designed for two or more players, one picking up a GM role and the rest acting as players. It’s a loving tribute to the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett, and is therefore free! It is a setting that provides a tongue-in-cheeck reference to classic fantasy, and uses a 2d10 system to follow your character’s humorous attempts at becoming an adventure, and all of the one-in-a-million outcomes that make their stories interesting.

I like that this game uses narrative points to give your character a chance to do something really cool in situations where they don’t have a realistic chance of success. I also appreciate the de-centring of violence in that there are no health points or systems in place to keep track of physical harm. This doesn’t mean that conflict is impossible - it just means that it has to be figured out collaboratively between the players and the GM. What there is a great deal of focus on, is magic, with some really interesting effects that could pop up whenever you cast a spell.

This game is cheeky and knows exactly what it’s trying to emulate, and if you’re familiar in any way with Discworld, I think you should check it out.

Mausritter, by Losing Games.

Take up the sword and don the whiskers of a brave mouse adventurer in Mausritter, the rules-light fantasy adventure roleplaying game.

It’s a huge and dangerous world out there, and it does not look kindly on a small mouse. But if you are very brave and very clever and just a bit lucky, you might be able to survive. And if you survive long enough, you might even become a hero amongst mice.

Mausritter is, at its heart, an OSR game, and while many OSR games are pretty dark in tone, one thing that they excel at is providing characters with situations in which violence can’t be the answer. The costs of trying to fight something as a mouse are just too high - cats and owls and other large creatures are dangerous endeavours that only large large groups of mice have a chance at defeating. So for a two-player game, you’re going to understand narratively the necessity of using your wits. This game gives you a setting that makes it possible to have a game that mirrors more closely some themes in epic fantasy as well, including a magic system with spells that can give characters an even bigger toolbox when it comes to solving problems.

The Weaver’s Observatory, by Gem Room Games.

The Weaver’s Observatory is a two player dramatic fantasy adventure about an explorer seeking to change their destiny by asking a boon of Fate herself. Set in an ancient tower outside time, the Climber shares memories of their life as they cross a moat of living dye, ascend through the threads of discarded fates, and navigate the mechanisms that construct the fate of all living things without knowing if their request is even possible.

While this game doesn’t explicitly call the two roles within it GM and PC, it was designed for Tunnel Goons, which does use those sorts of roles. In The Weaver’s Observatory, one person is a solitary explorer, climbing a tower to request a boon from Fate. The other is Fate itself, representing the tower and the few inhabitants that reside within. The solitary Climber will encounter puzzles, hazards and guards that they will have to solve, avoid, and reason with - so I don’t see much of combat set within either the style of gameplay or the structure of the adventure.

This is a game that can be played as a one-shot, or can be set within a larger campaign. The entire game uses weaving metaphors and iconography, to set a tone for the overall narrative. If you like a tone that is intentional and purposeful, and want to tell a story that has great consequences for the person involved (and possible for a larger world), then this game is definitely worth checking out.

#dnd #game recommendations #indie ttrpgs #tabletop games #asks #fantasy #non-violent

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chaotic--nat · 1 year

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Can I have Ian Malcolm x reader where they both stay awake with each other after nightmares and fluff smut ensues,?

Ian Malcolm x Reader !

content: smut, fem!reader, fuck idk Ian body worship era, og jurassic park Ian, scientist reader, implied relationship

small summary: you and Ian had an eventful night after he gave you an on-hands demonstration of chaos theory

word count: 504

You and Ian were both respected scientists and as you worked together on numerous experiments, an all nighter in either one’s lab was destined to happen; luckily you were prepared with blankets, coffee, and various snacks! You enjoyed working with Ian because he always managed to keep you on your feet, his charming ways always had you surprised..especially this evening! Although you were an experimental psychologist and Ian was a chaos theorist, your work with him always made sense, which is why you're currently struggling to find the words to explain what predicament you're in, maybe he just left you speechless..

It all started with you sitting beside Ian as he showed you how chaos theory worked with water, his coarse hands delicately held yours as he poured the water in your hand. You did your best to pay attention as his hands played with yours, his hands were so gentle as he guided yours to make the water move around. As he moved your hand around, you couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of his fingers just making you a mess.. just the thought of Ian pleasing you and fucking you just with his fingers made you needy.. you weren’t sure if your fantasies were obvious but you were sure snapped back into reality from your dirty thoughts when Ian dried your hand up!

As he did, he couldn’t help but ask “Did I lose you there? You started turnin’ all glass eyed.” He let out a small chuckle and you quickly nodded and laughed “yes I'm okay! I just had a few thoughts..for our next..experiment-! Though it’s a rather embarrassing idea” Ian couldn’t help but look at you with such an intrigued facial expression,, his face, his lovely, handsome face. His eyes were beautiful, you could stare and melt into them almost instantly! He leaned forward with a small chuckle to give you a quick peck on the lips “please, enlighten me dear. I'm sure it’s not embarrassing.” You couldn’t find a way to bring yourself to tell him that such a small thing gave you such a horny idea!

He could tell by the way your cheeks flushed that there was no way in hell you were going to say anything.. Within an instant, Ian leaned forward and gently kissed your cheek, as he pulled away with a smirk he stated “if you’re so interested in something being studied, then my god, give me the opportunity..to study every inch of your body..” before you could process his question,, well statement, he had already pulled you into a sloppy kiss. You couldn’t help but whine as his movements, only encouraging him more to fuck you right this moment. Ian grabs you by your waist and sets you down on a nearby table and he instantly wipes the table clean, your brain was getting fuzzy already so all you could do was giggle..I think Ian enjoyed that too much, making your pretty little head go all fuzzy…!

author’s note: lmfao this took me too long to post, my wife helped me write this, I'll probably continue it later 💃🏻

#jurassic park #ian malcolm #dr ian malcolm #ian malcolm x reader

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mamaangiwine · 1 year

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I think my issue with a lot of YA and just like...fantasy fiction in general...is that much of it is written from this perspective that the folklore and fairy tales they are borrowing from are just these "fun little stories". That these stories don't hold any inherent spiritual value or express a complex world view- or, if they do, it was a superstitious and backwards worldview. Something from a bygone and less enlightened era. Something from a stupid and unscientific people.

It shows in the writing because these kinds of books seem to be almost self congratulatory in the way they've "reimagined" the source material, or the way they've emphasized the "grittier" elements of a classic fairy tale.

It's an unfortunate mentality that not only leads to uninspired stories, or the dismissal of a beautiful human inheritance as preposterous, but also, like- casual racism and colonialism? Because people seem to think that if their myths and folk tales are "fun little stories", then other cultures' myths and folk tales must also be "fun little stories", and that they are equally up for "reinterpretation".

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that people shouldn't be inspired by folklore, or fairytales or use them in imaginative ways. I'm just saying that I wish, more often than not, it was coming from a place of respect towards those stories and the cultural/ spiritual values they carry, rather than treated as a quick backdrop for lazy plots and world building that only seem expansive and interactive due to their instant familiarity.

#magic #folk magic #spirituality #folklore #literature #ya fiction #fiction #fantasy #witchblr #witchcraft #wizards #sorcerers #history

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shriketabletop · 5 months

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The Bird & Bone Winter Sale returns for a second year! Every game from Shrike Tabletop and Radmad RPGs is 50% off, and you can get a selection of our biggest products in the bundle linked!

Get BLOOD NEON and its expansion ATOMIC SHOCK, high energy hyperviolent vaporwave nightmare fuel for fans of DOOM and similar games. Art by Luis Melo.

Get ERA OF SILENCE, bizarre chemipunk tactical action with a heavy emphasis on teamwork and customization! Great for fans of weird fantasy and the traditional RPG experience. Art by Moss Sugarmountains.

Get HESITATION AT THE GATE, a reflective tarot RPG for those on the verge of making a big decision, and seeking enlightenment. Great for fans of narrative mechanics.

Or get them all together in this amazing bundle, 50% off!!!

#ttrpg #rpg #dnd #fantasy #era of silence #sci fi #apocalypse #tabletop roleplaying #game design #tabletop role playing game #winter sale #sale #game sale

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elena-mayfair · 2 years

Text

Dreams that came true

Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader Warnings: swearing, horror images, graphic violence, adult themes, reader discretion is advised Summary: Be careful what you wish for because some dreams do come true. Word count: 4.8k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors.

Series Masterlist Part fifteen: One with the Dream

***

If someone had ever told Morpheus that on a warm autumn afternoon he would be enjoying the company of two mortals it would probably have been met with his resentment and contempt. He remembered very well how, in 1889, Hob Gadling merely suggested that perhaps he was looking for friendship, alluded that he might be feeling lonely, he remembered well his own reaction. Outrage, anger, storming out into the rainy night, but also sadness, pain. Something he never told him and probably never will. His words hurt him like a burning iron applied straight to his heart, pained him because there was truth in them, he felt lonely. He had always felt lonely, isolated. But he would have liked to think that this must have been the nature of his existence, the lonely Lord of Dreaming. All the attempts he had made to fill that solitude turned into nothing. Killala, Nada, Calliope…each attempt always ended the same way, nothingness, loneliness. Therefore, he made the decision that love had no place in the Land of Dreams, because love comes from Desire, manipulates the heart and mind of beings, brings them to ruin. But what about friendship? Friendship, in Morpheus's eyes, was only a secondary to love, the first step leading to it, the first mistake he could make. It was not a privilege or a luxury he could afford. Eons of life had taught him that neither love nor friendship had any place in his existence. And yet, more than a hundred years since that memorable rainy night, he found himself in the company of a friend and his beloved, and he had to admit to himself that the sight of their smiling faces immersed in conversation brought warmth to his heart, made him feel good. It made him feel happy.

"Unbelievable…" Y/N whispered and her eyes lighted up with amazement, "You are in your thirties since 1389…."

"More than 600 years…" Hob smiled kindly.

"Fucking unbelievable!" Morpheus observed her childlike wonder, "You've lived for six centuries…holy shit, the things you've seen, the people you've met, you've seen the world change…" she continued in a hushed voice, "I have so many questions! There are so many things I would like you to tell me about!"

"I'm sure Morpheus has seen even more than I have…" Hob smiled emphasizing his friend's name bluntly, "You have certainly seen a lot yourself."

"Yes but it's not the same! Sorry but I don't have as much experience of life as you! You lived through the Renaissance, the Age of Enlightenment, the Elizabethan era, the Victorian, the Regencies! Oh, the history of culture unfolded before your eyes!"

"Believe me it sounds better than I remember it."

"Oh, gowns, balls, beautiful Ladies, classy Gentlemen!" a blush of excitement appeared on her face.

"Ignorance, crudity, poverty, pestilence, wars…" Hob interrupted with a slightly cynical smile.

"Oh don't spoil my fantasy!" she scolded him with a laugh only to become serious a moment later, "My god….you saw both World Wars…" she uttered quietly, "it must have been…oh, I don't even know what to say."

"I'd rather not see the third one," he smiled brightly, "But don't get me wrong, I don't regret a moment of it, each of those times you mentioned had something beautiful about them and I can't wait for the future!"

"So you still want to live." Morpheus mused in a low voice.

"Of course I do! I will never look for death! You should already know that about me!" he replied with certainty.

"How is that possible?" Y/N asked curiously, "How is it possible that you have been alive for over six hundred years?"

"I'll tell you what it looked like from my perspective…" Hob leaned his elbows on the table, moved closer to her and began to speak in a hushed voice, "In the year 1389, I was sitting with my companions in a tavern. We were talking over a drink and a meal as was our custom after a week's work. A discussion about death ensued. And I, being my presumptuous self, started lecturing them even then! Heh, how little I knew back then…" he smiled faintly and took a sip of his beer, "It seemed to me that since I had seen people from my village die one by one, consumed by the Plague, that as I had seen the fallen in battle in Burgundy where I fought under the command of the Earl of Buckingham, I knew what death looked like. Because you see people around me were dying but not me…"

"I remember you called Death stupid," Morpheus chuckled.

"Well because I thought so!" Hob replied and continued the story, "I said to myself 'the only reason people die is 'cause everyone does it' and I really thought so! And I made a decision that I would not die. And I didn't die."

Morpheus watched as sadness seeped into Y/N's fascinated eyes at the implications of his words. For a moment, anger even glimmered in them.

"And you didn't die, just like that?" she queried.

"That same night I met Morpheus who asked for us to meet in the same tavern in a hundred years." Hob smiled at Morpheus, "We have been meeting once every hundred years since then."

Y/N was silent for a moment hiding her feelings in her cup of coffee. Unlike Hob, she knew more about the supernatural forces that ruled the world of mortals. Morpheus could clearly see how the initial fascination and admiration mixed with anger, frustration and sternness. He saw how hard she tried to hide it and how much these feelings tried to flood her. For a moment he regretted asking for her company, for a moment he regretted that his selfishness and desire for her company overshadowed his perception of the situation. He reached out with his hand under the table and gently brushed her leg, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"You should write a book!" she smiled at Hob swallowing all the negative emotions, "It would sell in the millions! I can only imagine how many fascinating stories you could tell!"

"Nay, that's not for me! I'm a simple man, enjoying the simple things in life!" he replied and leaned relaxed against the couch, "But I must admit that you're not all that surprised by my story," he noted, "forgive me for asking a direct question, I don't want to be rude, but are you a human?"

Y/N only laughed warmly.

"Yes I am," she replied, "In a way." she corrected herself, "in a sense… damn, it doesn't surprise me that much because maybe I've already seen too many things in my life. I'm a Witch," she explained.

"Wow…" A gasp of amazement escaped Hob's lips, "A real one, you mean? With spells, incantations, potions, and stuff?"

"And stuff…" she confirmed, " Not many people like me are left in the world."

"No wonder after the clerics and commoners murdered most of you in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries…"

"Many bloodlines were destroyed but as you probably know well many innocents were murdered as well," she finished. "Have you met many famous people?" she quickly changed the course of the conversation, "Mozart? Bach? Michelangelo? Shakespeare maybe?"

"Hah! Will Shaxberd! What a funny little man he was!" Hob laughed at the reminiscence, "He wrote something and performed in the theater, nothing outstanding! His friend Kit Marlowe, that one had talent! But, of course, everything changed after William caught the interest of Morpheus," he looked pointedly at his friend, "You never confirmed it to me, but I know that you made some kind of deal with him. Who would have thought that hundreds of years later people would still be admiring his works."

Morpheus answered nothing only gave a crafty smile.

"Wait a minute…" Y/N's astonished gaze flickered to him. How he loved looking into her delighted eyes, "Are Shakespeare's works your making?"

"Perhaps."

"Oh no my dear, perhaps, isn't enough here!" she leaned closer to him while fascination danced in her eyes, "how many great writers? Lovecraft? Poe? Tolkien? You have to tell me!"

"Later," he replied softly, "I believe that if we start this conversation day and night will not be enough to finish it."

"We have all the time that exists…" she smirked at him.

"That we have…" he smiled at her and for the first time, Hob saw love in the eyes of the once mysterious stranger. Hob Gadling watched with delight as they hung their gazes on each other for longer than acceptable in the respectful company, watched as Morpheus' eyes shone when she smiled slyly at him when she closed her eyes for a fraction of a sec when he took her hand, courteously helping her up, as he watched intently her every move, her every gesture when she said goodbye to him giving her promises to meet him again soon. And even if they did not meet sooner than in another hundred years Hob was happy because he knew that his friend had found happiness, he knew that his friend was no longer lonely.

***

"You'll have to tell me all about Shakespeare!" Y/N embraced Morpheus' arm and let him lead her on a walk through the crowded streets of the city. The day was slowly coming to an end, the sun was setting over the horizon giving way to the enwrapping darkness of night. She looked at him while the fascination and childlike wonder danced in her eyes again.

"I think that of all those you mentioned Shakespeare is the least interesting figure," he smiled at her.

"Did you know Poe? And Lovecraft?!" without letting go of his hand she stepped half a step in front of him and started walking backward, like a child unable to contain her excitement, "Did you know Tolkien?!"

"I have met them all my dear," he replied and the corner of his mouth twitched again.

"Oh, Morpheus! You can't tease me like that! Tell me, please! Tell me about them!"

Morpheus stopped and took her hand, directing it back onto his arm.

"I will tell you about them if you want me to," he looked deeply into her wide-open eyes, "I think I will be able to offer even more than a story," he teased.

"What's that?! Tell me please!" she demanded an answer, so joyful, so excited. He couldn't stop enjoying her delight, her cheerful smile, and her sparkling eyes.

"Let it be a surprise," he kissed her gently taking her argument away. How he loved the taste of sweetness on her lips, the scent of jasmine that invaded his senses every time she was near.

"If you think I can't see what you're doing then you're sorely mistaken," she glared at him with a cocky smile but allowed him to lead her further through the city streets, "I may sometimes be unreasonable but I am not stupid!"

"I have no idea what you mean," he quipped amused.

"Mhm, for sure! That subtly marked dominance of yours, I hope you don't think I don't notice it."

"I have not thought so for a moment, your intelligence and perceptiveness are exceptionally highly developed."

"Don't think that I will always submit to you," she continued, throwing him amused glances.

"There are some situations in which submissiveness can bring a pleasurable outcome," he lowered his voice deliberately and felt a shiver run through her body. Observing her reaction gave him unimaginable satisfaction.

"Excuse me Dream Lord, is my Lord flirting with me? she gazed flirtatiously.

"Perhaps I am," he gazed back.

"And what sort of pleasurable outcomes of submissiveness did you have in mind My Lord?" she smiled slyly.

"Use your imagination," he leaned in and murmured softly.

"My imagination tells me that we should now be anywhere but in the middle of the street," she replied.

"And where would you like to be My Lady?" a blush came to her face as he addressed her with the title.

"Let me think…." she indulged in a daydream for a moment, "maybe in my bedroom?" she looked at him playfully, "Nah, too obvious. Maybe in a 16th-century Gothic castle where I could wear a beautiful, richly decorated, long gown made of black velvet," he liked the vision. "Or on a deserted beach hidden under the cover of night, where I would bathe naked in the pale moonlight," this vision pleased him even more. "Or a gothic masquerade ball where concealed under masks, we could dance and twirl to the envy and admiration of the other guests."

"It can all be arranged," he replied quietly when she stopped again and moved closer to him, closer than he would have liked while being out in public.

"For now, take me home…" she whispered as she gazed into his eyes.

He smiled and pulled her gently away from the crowded street. One of the side alleys was empty, shrouded in the darkness of night, as the single burnt-out lamp provided no light, offering a perfect cover from the eyes of passersby. He reached into his pocket for his pouch of sand, but before he could take it out Y/N grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him close. She took two steps back, leaned with her back against the wall of the building, threw her arms around his neck and pressed her burning lips to his. There was no trace of modesty nor softness in her behavior, there was only pure passion and desire. Without diverting his lips from hers he slipped his hand under her jacket and embraced her tightly around the waist as she clung eagerly to him. Holding her so close, he felt as if he held in his arms Everything, the past, the future, the present, everything that was and everything that would be, everything that mattered, everything he desired, the purpose of existence beyond his function. With his other hand, he reached back into his pocket and in one smooth motion surrounded them with golden sand carrying them back home.

He wanted them to stay like this, as one, in the space between time and place, suspended between Dream and Reality. Like a pair of lovers enslaved by desire. He never wanted to be parted from her, he wanted her to be by his side forever. He wanted nothing more than to make her his queen, to hide her in the Dreaming from mortal life, to make her his for all eternity.

Consumed by love, controlled by Desire, he almost lost sight of Dreaming. Almost…

***

"What's wrong?" you asked when Morpheus suddenly broke the kiss and pulled away from you, "Morpheus I can see that something is wrong."

"Something has changed in the Dreaming," he answered with a gravely voice as his eyes stared into space, "I must investigate."

"I'll go with you…"

"No, "he interrupted you gruffly, "I don't think it's a good idea."

"But…" you tried to continue upon seeing his sudden change in demeanor. Gone was the charming, seductive man who only a moment ago was passionately taking devotion from your lips. The stern King of Dreams stood before you again, and the King of Dreams did not accept disobedience. The cold stars shone menacingly again in his endless eyes and his whole posture seemed to have grown, filling the space around you with impenetrable darkness.

"The affairs of the Kingdom of Dreams belong to me Y/N, and I must attend to them without delay," he stated.

"I understand…" You replied reluctantly and lowered your gaze. Morpheus only came closer to you and tenderly embraced your face in his hands.

"Please listen to me for once," he said after which he kissed you and disappeared in a swirl of golden grains of sand.

You were alone again...

You stood for a moment just as he left you, not quite knowing what to do next. Although the night was deep you didn't feel tired or in need of sleep. It was as if the few hours you had slept in his Kingdom had made your body and mind feel rested like never before. You stared into the space that just a moment ago was filled by Morpheus and felt the emptiness. Two days and nights spent at his side were enough for you to know that you never wanted to be parted from him again. Being by his side was so intoxicating, addictive, as if in an instant he became your whole world, the whole meaning of your existence, every heartbeat, every breath, every thought and every desire.

You sat down on the bed and reached for a cigarette. The thick smoke made you dizzy, only now you realized that you hadn't smoked for the past few days. But that wasn't the only thing you hadn't done in the past few days. You didn't check your phone, your email, your messages, you didn't check your mailbox, you didn't even took the laundry out of the washing machine. "I've completely lost all sense of reality," you thought with surprise noticing how easily you let yourself be drawn into the Dreaming World. "Is this what it's going to be like?" you leaned back on the bed as you continued to drag on your cigarette, "Moments of dreamed fantasy followed by complete emptiness?" You closed your eyes and let the memory of Morpheus' touch, his hands wandering over your body, his greedy kisses exploring every part of your body reignite your senses. You weren't ready to let him go. You craved that fire, craved to feel him with your whole being. His voice carried a pleasant shiver, in his gaze you were able to see the whole world, his touch ignited your soul and mind, made you feel more alive than ever before. You desired to feel that fire again as your hand went up your thigh under your dress. You desired this delight….

Desire...

The storm light flashed through you warningly when you felt a sudden change. You abruptly opened your eyes and saw red. A bright, flashy, vulgar red that shone like a perfectly polished stone. The air smelled of the sweetness of licorice.

"Well hello there…" a smokey, sultry voice reached your ears making you rise rapidly to your feet, "Surprise to see me?" with your eyes you found its source. A blond-haired and golden-eyed stranger was smiling seductively at you, writhing in a chair as red as all the surroundings. Stranger was dressed all in black, with a deep neckline exposing a chest, a feather collar surrounding a beautiful face. It smiled at you, blood red lipstick decorated its luscious lips. "You shouldn't be," the stranger purred like a cat.

"Who are you? Where am I?" you asked in a hushed voice.

"I can feel that you are still searching for something…" it ignored your question, "there, in my Big Brothers Realm."

"Big brother?" you whispered.

"I suppose I should introduce myself…" the being stood up and approached you seductively balancing its hips, "I am Desire," the enticing low voice penetrated you as it graced you with a wide grin.

"You are one of the Endless. A Morpheus sibling," you stated as your heart began to beat with an uneven rhythm.

"That is what I am, that is what I do," Desire affirmed, "I make you want," Desire moved closer to you and deeply took in your scent, "It is me that you feel in the longing, in lust…." with its fingers it brushed the hair off your neck, "you are drawn to these objects, to these feelings, like a butterfly to the flame. But…" a chuckle escaped Desire's lips, "you already knew that didn't you? And yet, knowing that, you gave in to me so easily."

"I think you underestimate the complexity of human nature," you looked at Desire angrily but Desire only laughed.

"If you think so tell me then, what is that you want? Don't be shy…" Desire grinned widely again, "you weren't shy just a moment ago," it remarked. "Or perhaps I should try to guess?" it looked at you flirtatiously. "You want something sensual, or maybe something precious, or…maybe someone special?" humming laughter came from within it, "or maybe you want all three?"

"Go to hell," you growled.

"Yes. I think that might be just the case." Desire circled around you far too close for your liking, "You know, my Big Brother always thought that Endless are servants to you mortals. But I know what you really are. You are a creature of Desire, my creature."

"I don't belong to you Desire, I belong to him," you looked into their golden eyes with certainty but Desire only laughed derisively.

"Oh, how confident," Desire mocked, "you twist and bend as I require it." Desire ran a finger down your arms, "whenever you wake my Big Brother is taking his leave of you. But I'm not. I am always with you right there in your heart," it stopped its hand on your heart.

"You are wrong," you fumed while looking daringly into Desire's eyes, "You confuse lust with love and devotion, which I think are utterly unknown to you. And Morpheus doesn't…." you bit your tongue, certain that Morpheus would not want you to reveal the details of your relationship.

"Go on, continue, tell me what I don't know about my own brother," it challenged you, "But perhaps you are right. Perhaps my brother has changed. It is true that you are a remarkable being. So I think we will see if you are remarkable enough to change my brother."

"Stay away from us," you snarled.

"Oh is that a threat? I almost felt a thrill of excitement," Desire purred in your ear, " Go away, little witch. I'm sure we'll meet again."

And with those words the red before you disappeared. You were in your bedroom again. Your heart was pounding like crazy trying to keep up with your nervous breathing while you got up from the bed, lit a cigarette and ran to the living room in search of the phone. You needed to talk to John, the only human who could understand what was going on in your life. Once again, he hadn't heard from you for several days, but you were pretty sure there was no signal in the Dream Realm anyway. Traveling in the arms of Morpheus also left no opportunity to take your phone, bag, and other things that were so necessary in the Waking World. You didn't need them anyway. Plugging the phone into the charger, you were sure to see at least a few notifications of missed calls and some messages. One thing you didn't expect was the content of the first message that popped up on your screen.

David is dead. He killed himself.

You froze. You understood the urgency that Morpheus had to investigate. You understood why he didn't want you to go with him. It was your fault.

***

The moment Morpheus no longer detected David in the Dreaming he knew something had happened. The Nightmares he had ordered to torture him had returned to the Realm and were waiting to be summoned for a report. However, he had to see for himself first what had happened. He had to make sure his intuition was not misguided. Standing in the living room of his apartment, the truth spread in a bloodstain before his eyes. A shattered skull fragments of brain and blood splattered on the wall and the back of the armchair on which his lifeless body lay. His jaw hung open, and dried blood oozed from his mouth. The stench of feces and decay hung in the air. "He was supposed to suffer longer," he thought while looking at his dead body with dissatisfaction.

"Bloody hell, the bastard was many things but I never wished him such a death," Constantine also looked at David's body however unlike Morpheus he covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve, "Poor son of a bitch."

"Do you feel sorry for him Constantine?" Morpheus asked in a murderous voice, "Do you feel sorry for his death?"

"Yes and no," he replied, "Even the worst bastards don't deserve such a death."

"Perhaps not," Morpheus shifted his gaze from Constantine back to David's lifeless body, "Perhaps he deserved a fate far worse than this. Death…Death granted him an opportunity for an early escape."

"I have to report this to the police," John stated and reached for the phone, "Good thing Y/N isn't here. I don't know how she would have reacted."

"You have very poor timing Constantine," Morpheus remarked after which he stepped away from the corpse and looked into space where a swirl of golden sand began to form from which Y/N emerged a moment later. She looked confused first at Morpheus, then at Constantine before finally focusing her eyes on David's body. She took two steps back and leaned against the wall, Morpheus watched as her eyes widened filling with horror.

"Bloody hell, sweetheart! You shouldn't be here!" John rushed over to her trying to block her view but Morpheus was already there. He filled the entire space in front of her eyes.

"I asked you to stay home," he said in a quiet concerned voice, gently forcing her to look at him, "You couldn't listen to me…" There was no emotion depicted on her stunned face, only her eyes betrayed horror, "Y/N look at me," he ordered. And look she did, she looked straight into his eyes, while horror gave way to anger.

"Would you tell me if I stayed?" she asked rhetorically, "Get out of my way, I want to see him."

"Love, I don't think it's a good idea," Constantine interjected.

"And you what?!" Y/N looked at John furiously, "Some bad cop good cop routine you're playing! Since when did you two even…" she didn't finish, "Get out of my way both of you!"

Morpheus felt a wave of power surge out of her teasing his senses like a current flowing through his body. He looked at Constantine who also felt it, much more strongly, as he moved back two steps and tumbled slightly as if protecting himself from falling.

"Beloved," Morpheus tried again to get her attention, "This is not a sight you should be seeing."

"It's my fault," she replied quietly and pushed him away.

Morpheus did not try to stop her again. He knew that his requests and commands would be of no use, not in this case. He could only watch as Y/N approached the dead body of the Nightmare that had tormented her for years and silently looked at the blood stains on the wall, the skull fragments, the dried blood on his mouth, neck and shirt. She did not avert her eyes, did not cover her mouth or nose, she stood proudly like a statue, breathing calmly and steadily, with a statuesque face betraying no emotion.

"It's my fault…" she whispered quietly.

"You cannot say that…" Morpheus stood half a step behind her, in case she would fall.

"But while it's true…" she continued in a cold tone, "It's my fault. His death, his blood is on my hands…"

"Y/N…" he tried to interrupt her.

"If I hadn't met you if our paths hadn't crossed…" her voice trembled, "One thing led to another. There are no words that….It's my fault Morpheus. I wished the son of a bitch all the worst, I said it to his face, I told him that I would like to kill him, that I would like to feel his neck crack under my fingers, that I would like to watch his life escape," she said quietly and calmly, "I meant it. I said I would spit on his grave. And I wanted it with my whole heart."

"You did not kill him…" the Morpheus voice came from deep within grounding her in reality.

"No, I didn't kill him, not then. Even though I could have, even though I wanted to, I told him I wouldn't stain my hands with his blood, that I wasn't a killer…." she turned her gaze away from David's body and looked straight into Morpheus' endless abyss, "So tell me beloved why I feel like I'm the one who pulled the trigger?".

He answered nothing. He wanted to deny it but that would have been a lie. He put his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort. He saw all the joy disappear from her consumed by Despair.

"Be careful what you wish for…" she sneered, "because dreams do come true…"

Part seventeen: Letting go

~~***~~

Author note: Hi friends! My apologies for the delayed chapter. I had a lot going on last week and the last thing I wanted was to give you some half-ass attempt at the story. This week, however, I'm planning to push a bit more, and hopefully, give you two more. No promises though.

I'm curious to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Even if I'm not replying to every single comment, and believe me I'm trying, I am reading each and every one. Thank you so much for all of your comments. You are the best!

For now, as always Dear Reader, I thank you for reading :)

~~***~~

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@goingwiththewind @sapphireonline @thecrazytealady @hedwigprewett12 @mikariell95 @asianfrustration13 @seninjakitey @boofy1998 @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @22carolina08 @aurorarevenclaw1927

#morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman #Morpheus imagines #the sandman imagine #Morpheus x you #Morpheus fanfiction #Morpheus fic

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paragonrobits · 8 months

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have a consideration of the thought I had as I woke up today, going from asleep to sudden lightning-eyed alertness as a single thought flooded my brain:

"WHAT IF INSTEAD OF BEING AN ALCHEMICAL IN THAT ATLA/EXALTED AU I KEEP THINKING ABOUT, AANG WAS A DRAGON KING?"

some explainations for those not familiar with Exalted; it is a tabletop fantasy game heavily influenced by a mixture of several mythologies and classic epics, and high-action anime series, set in a fantastical bronze-era world of competing politics, spirits mired in a divine bureaucracy, and mighty heroes using their power as they see fit. The game is named for the titular Exalted; mortal humans who have been chosen by the Exaltations, shards of divine power seeking out mortals with the will and desire to use this power (regardless of what they intend to actually do with it), which come in a variety of types that have different skills and criteria.

However, the Dragon Kings are NOT among the Exalted, though the word itself is a translation of a similar concept where their ancestors once widely channeled spirits in partnerships. The Dragon Kings are a nonhuman species of humanoid dinosaur-like beings that predate humanity; they were created to be the species to dwell in the world, and humanity created as living prayer batteries to fuel the gods that lived under the power of the Dragon Kings. When the gods rallied against the titans that made them, the DKs (who mostly revere the mightiest of the gods, the Unconquered Sun, as the ultimate paragon of heroism and virtue) sided with the gods, and were almost completely wiped out in such a way that they can never reach the population they once had.

This is because the DKs serially reincarnate in a way unlike humans, who are born, die, have their memories washed away by the process of Lethe, and are born again. The Dragon Kings instead are born as beasts and functionally just animals, but as they grow older and wiser, their elders train them and help them to awaken their true spirit, becoming intelligent again, and as they grow wiser still, they remember all their past lives, all the way to the dawn of existence, and pick up where they left off. The titans unmade most of the Dragon Kings, and they can never reincarnate from that, thus their population is permanently capped.

They are a shadow of what they once were, and they can never again return to the days they remember so clearly. Never again will the people created for the world ever be able to dwell in it as they once did; their cities lie in ruins, populated only by beasts or the bestial remnants of their people. The humans who profit on their ruin know nothing of the people who had to die for humanity to prosper. Many a Dragon King awakened, only to see the horror of their people's decline, to see cities that were once thriving metropoli of philosophy and culture, and see only ruins.

And yet, there is heroism all the same; in finding something to fight for in the modern day, or to strive to rebuild the infrastructure their people so desperately need, and build something new, however far from the glory of their ancestors but still something worthwhile.

In this regard, Aang fits incredibly well as a Dragon King. Particularly he resonates well with the Pterok, whom are a flying breed physically inspired by flying non-dinosaurs like pterodactyls, and are naturally skilled at more spiritual paths of enlightenment metaphysically associated with the element of air, powers of sensory empowerment and communing with the spirits. Additionally, the specific nature of how the DKs are reborn also nicely fits with the Avatar's reincarnation, though somewhat different in nature the basic ideas can still be applied.

The other interesting detail is that the DKs are considered underdogs by Exalted standards. They are inherently powerful and far stronger than any human can EVER be. However, they themselves cannot become Exalted under any circumstances, and it takes them a VERY long time to fully train their powers, well over a century of training, wisdom and understanding, while the Exalted can achieve superior power within months. The DKs have a hard cap on their power that cannot be worked around, while the Exalted are superweapons that can defeat any foe or achieve any goal; accordingly, while they have a potential for wisdom beyond the Exalted, and are also able to learn a form of sorcery, they will always be far weaker, which is also a deeply interesting idea.

So I present this notion; Aang as a newly awakened Pterok Dragon King, either as a mundane member who has recently spontaneously gained sapience (which does sometimes happen) or an ancient sage of some sort who was placed into stasis to wait out a terrible calamity, only to emerge eons after he was supposed to wake up, and finds himself in a dark time where his people have lost themselves, sword and violence are the only rule respected by the world, and the wisdom he values has been ignored.

Never the less, he must try.

#atla #aang #exalted #dragon kings #queued

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gutter--trash · 8 months

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it’s a thousand pages give or take a few, i’ll be writing more in a week or two

paperback writer, the beatles

#historical fantasy #enlightenment witches #excuse me ma'am these are my emotional support ocs #original character #eighteenth century #my art #no thoughts head empty #my ocs #oc: cress #oc: innes #enlightenment era costume #maybe my enlightenment era fantasy can fix my creative block

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dvar-trek · 4 months

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Romance Roundup: Part 1

this summer, after succumbing to my knitting injuries, i fell into a romance novel rabbit-hole. they are like candy for me. they're low-effort, fun, a quick source of joy, and keep me from endlessly scrolling jpost for israel news. also i can usually finish one in a day or two. so all in all, i ended up reading a total of 90 romance/kissing books.

the stats:

84 queer

13 novella-length

4 that i really feel i gave a fair shot but didn't finish

the top 7 (in no particular order):

A Taste of Gold and Iron by Alexandra Rowland- a fantasy book wherein the prince and his sworn bodyguard fall in love. some light (as in dangerous but not overly complex) political intrigue. plenty of world-building, but the author doesn't ever bore you with explanations you don't want. the writing is a little clumsy at times, but in spite of myself i found this book and the characters so utterly charming.

Enlightenment Trilogy (Provoked, Beguiled, and Enlightened) by Joanna Chambers- takes place in regency-late georgian scotland. two men who are dedicated to their respectable (but very different) lives. in order to keep what's important to them, they each plan to go through life just having anonymous, one-off encounters with other men, and needless to say, they upend that for one another. features radical politics, arguments about what matters in life, george iv's visit to scotland, and confronting your past. i thought about this extensively, but i simply do not think i can describe the plot in a way that will be helpful. you are just going to have to trust me. a linked short story and bonus-epilogue-novella are also availble on the author's website.

10 Things That Never Happened by Alexis Hall- man sort of accidentally fakes amnesia to keep his asshole boss from firing everyone. only they end up sort of falling for each other for real. modern setting, funny and sad, and the kind of slow-burn romance that makes your chest hurt. it does take place over christmas, but not in a fluffy, christmassy way. like, even i, America's Number One Christmas Hater, who would never have touched it had i known about the christmas element going in, found it to be completely tolerable amount of christmas, and a thoroughly enjoyable book. i read everything on my top 7 list multiple times, but this is one that really rewards your second read-through.

Captive Prince Trilogy (Captive Prince, Prince's Gambit, and Kings Rising) by C.S. Pacat- fantasy setting wherein a prince is kidnapped and enslaved in an enemy realm, and eventually has to ally with his cruel captor in order to save his own kingdom. plenty of political maneuvering, military skirmishes, court intrigue, and secret night mission shenanigans (with disguises). another chest-aching slow burn that rewards multiple read-throughs. there's also a linked short story collection, The Summer Palace, which includes a bonus epilogue.

A Rulebook for Restless Rogues (book 2 in Lucky Lovers of London) by Jess Everlee- victorian-era romance, featuring drag, lifelong best friends, and some of the best (hottest) sex scenes on this list. the proprietor of an underground gentlemen's club for queer men fights to keep his club open and his people safe, both from the law and from the volatile aristocrat who owns the place. he also definitely doesn't have feelings for his best friend. anymore. probably.

England World (Think of England, and prequel Proper English) by KJ Charles- two excellent books; one a houseparty/treason investigation and one a houseparty turned murder mystery. as everyone knows, it's extremely dangerous to attend a houseparty while single, because you will fall hopelessly in love, but you will also be in mortal peril. i am. too fucking feral about these characters to say anything useful. i am completely aware that this does nothing to help my case, but i cannot help it. i am unable to be normal about them, even in the effort to convince people to read these books. also please note that even though the covers are. quite bad. the writing is excellent and well-researched. also also, there's a bonus epilogue on the author's website, featuring additional sex, good jokes, and bad poetry.

An Unnatural Vice (book 2 in Sins of the City) by KJ Charles- the whole trilogy is worth reading (in order!) but this is definitely the strongest of the 3, and i found it to be the most compelling of the romances. a victorian-era mystery/suspense series, featuring an inheritance plot, murders in the fog, and fake séances. a "spiritualist" who defrauds the wealthy and the investigative jouranlist determined to expose his tricks find themselves hate-fucking, running from murderers, arguing about class politics, and both saving and upending each others' lives.

honorable mention:

Sailor's Delight by Rose Lerner- #1 brain-rewiring book of the year. 1813 sailing master in the british royal navy and his naval agent fall in love. the book takes place over 1 week of shore leave (which coincides with the high holy days), although they have known each other (and known that they can never be together) for almost a decade. uh. listen. this book is both fun and well-researched, but it is not, like, Good™. there is a shirtless man on the cover and there's not even any fucking in the book. the main characters are named Elie and Augie which is completely unsexy. BUT. they changed my brain chemistry and i've plotted out their entire lives in my head from the moment they met and i'm fucking feral about them.

romance roundup part 2

#wip wednesday #or rather #in lieu of having had any wips wednesday in the last 6 months.#the full list of books is breaking the tumblr post editor #so we'll start with this.#i've read 90 romance novels since july ama 😌#romance roundup

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sjsmith56 · 2 months

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Epilogue - Chapter 43, Lord Buchanan

Summary: It's going to become quite evident that this isn't exactly an epilogue. The previous 42 chapters kind of started in the middle of something bigger while focusing mainly on the story of the main female character, Ileana. So, just to wrap things up I decided to give a "brief" history of the world she found herself in, a world that was confusing in how it seemed to be a meld of various different eras in her own planet's history. There will still be an update of sorts of the main characters, but the majority will be a description of how they all got to that point.

Length: 7.8 K

Warnings: some curse words

Author notes: The images in the mood board were created by myself using the Microsoft app Copilot, using the Designer mode. Sometimes the results are a bit hit and miss but these ones seemed to convey the passage of time in the character of Lord Buchanan, James Buchanan Barnes. I know this fantasy story isn’t for everyone but it was a lot of fun to write and the last six chapters (not including the Epilogue) were written when I was dealing with a sudden serious cancer diagnosis. It allowed me an outlet for the darkness that threatened me, physically and emotionally. If you’re one of the few who has read it in its entirety (you know who you are 😘), thank you for your support of this cult classic.

<<Chapter 42

🌅 🌕

As any sorcerer can tell the lay person, dealing with multiple universes can be tricky. For a certain witch who was known as the Scarlet Sorceress in her old world, but as Dr. Wanda Maximoff in her current one, the stakes were high when she put a plan into motion to save her previous world from a natural disaster that had almost destroyed it centuries before. She was a young woman the first time an asteroid hit the atmosphere of her world, landing in the mid-Atlantic Ocean and sending tsunamis across that vast water that devastated the coastlines of the countries bordering it. Those tsunamis travelled around the world affecting all countries, sending them into a decline that caused chaos and despair, as crops were affected, communications destroyed, technology wiped out and governments toppled. What rose from the remains of the countries regressed to a form of medieval kingdoms, as strong individuals took power, then offered their protection to the population in return for their loyalty and their labour. The churches also prospered, heralding the event as just retribution for turning away from faith. But something else arose from those dark times, as certain people developed the abilities to manipulate aspects of life, including time, health, and the ability to travel between the multiple universes. The magic that the calamity released from eons of repression filled those sensitive individuals and imbued them with powers that could be used for enlightenment or to keep people enslaved.

The Sorceress was one of those individuals who sought enlightenment, and in concert with the others like herself worked hard to prevent the asteroids from impacting their world again. Over the centuries it came at a cost, as their powers became depleted by all that it took to keep the asteroids still orbiting the sun from their destructive paths. One by one, in order to keep from dying themselves, the purveyors of magic found it necessary to leave their world, to begin a life elsewhere in one of the multiple universes that abounded. On the original world, the threat of the asteroids became great again and the Sorceress, one of the few with powers still remaining there, sought to change the fate of her world by drawing in people from the other modern universes, people with knowledge that could benefit and bring about change.

As wars for control of scarce resources raged around her, the Sorceress sought a place where a plan could be set into motion to restore the lost knowledge of the society she was born into. Others of her kind did the same in their lands, but it took a long time for her to find a suitable place, in the Kingdom of the Broken Lands. Originally known as Brooklyn, once a borough of a larger metropolitan area called New York, the name itself meant "broken land," as its original colonizers noticed the large number of streams that cut through it.

When the Sorceress first presented herself to the court of King Joseph, he was old and sick; his only son, Steven, was just a child, and she knew from her own visions that a tyrant was coming to take control. In those same visions, she had seen the young son growing into a just and strong man, who with the help of loyal subjects from all walks of life, would eventually take his kingdom back. It was that kingdom that would be the site of her attempts at the plan that other sorcerers and sorceresses had implemented elsewhere. All they needed was for the young king to be kept safe from harm, and to be raised in secret with a certain farmer, his wife, and their son.

When the Titan despot, known as Thanos, arrived on their shores with his massive army, she convinced the king to let her smuggle his son, then just a small, sickly boy, to a place of safety. He agreed and she disguised herself as a nursemaid, using her magic to slip past the Titan's forces and into the countryside where a farmer and his wife struggled to make ends meet as they eked out a living on their small farm, granted to him after his own service with the king came to an end. His son, James Buchanan Barnes, was only a year older than the young prince, but found a kindred spirit in the sickly, but prankish nature of the boy. With the help of some of her own family line who had the gift of knowledge, the prince was educated, along with the Barnes boy, and both grew up believing their destiny was to restore the kingdom to its rightful heir, Prince Steven Grant Rogers, son of King Joseph Rogers, who had since perished as a prisoner of Thanos.

The years spent in hiding were hard on everyone as Thanos was a cruel master. Under his rule, people were little more than slaves, except for those noblemen who pledged their allegiance to him. Life was hard, people were hungry all the time, and illness claimed many, including the wife of the farmer Barnes, his beloved Winter. Even the young prince wept at her death, for she had been the only mother he ever knew, his own having died giving birth to him. But it steeled something in him, turned his prankish nature into one more determined into taking back what was his. To most of the outside world, Steven and young Bucky, the farmer's son, were little more than serfs, planting the crops that the farmer Barnes grew and harvested, then travelled with him to sell. It was a hard life, but in their travels, they made contact with others who also longed to fight against the Titan. Gradually, the two young men, brothers really, picked up the skills of warriors, learning sword play, becoming proficient in the use of a staff and a pike, and learning to ride a horse with the slightest touch of their knee, or a whispered command. The word went out in secret that the young prince lived and was amassing an army.

By this time there were noblemen who felt the yoke of servitude as too great a price to pay for their allegiance, and several of them, most notably Lord Howard Stark, became involved in supporting the secret army. The neighbouring Kingdom of the Green Lands, who had used magic to present themselves as not worthy of conquest also provided support, as the two young princes of the ruler King Odin, convinced their father the time was right to rise as one against the Titan.

The Sorceress, who had yet to draw any modern people over from the other universes, made her first attempt, bringing a man with knowledge and the ability to fight into her world, making a copy of him when he went through a wormhole in his own universe. What she didn't count on was that he himself had a duality; sometimes he was a reasonable man of science, but other times he was a raging green beast of a monster, uncontrollable in almost every way. The man who arrived in her world was both, but he was definitely not in a mood to cooperate. In desperation, she charged the farmer Barnes to approach him, with the promise of leading the giant, named Bruce, to a remote place where he could live unhindered. Filling the older Barnes with a sense of calmness she sent him to the giant, successfully calming him and ensuring that he would live relatively quietly as a hermit, until he was needed. The farmer continued the tenuous friendship with the giant, and even brought his son, James, with him on occasion, a move that worked out very well, as the giant accepted the young man's presence.

It was at that point, that the Sorceress rethought the plan of bringing in people from modern worlds, realizing that some people were less adaptable than others. As she watched and observed the young king and his foster brother become older, and stronger men, in both look and temperament she presented herself to him, promising to use her magic to assist him. By the time he was the age of 18, he had a formidable army, and the battles began. First, were sorties against the places where the Titan was spread thin, or his army had grown fat and complacent. In a space of three years the young king helped restore other kingdoms to their rightful rulers, never once keeping the land that he freed for himself. All he asked was their help to go against the Titan and free others under his control.

There had been a grievous blow struck against the king when his foster brother, and closest friend, James Buchanan Barnes, Buck to his friends, was captured and thought to be dead. It had been just after the third year of the start of the many battles they fought together. Fearing the growing power that Steven had accumulated, Thanos employed the help of a dark sorcerer, one who lusted for power, into placing a curse on Buck. The curse, where he would be transformed into a wolf who would attack the king on the words, "Buck, my brother," took months to impose on the young warrior, who fought against its implementation. Then they let him escape, knowing he would return to his foster brother's side. As he stumbled into the encampment, almost unrecognizable, there were those who told the king of Buck's return. Rushing out to an open area between the tents he reacted with joy at the sight of the man he had grown up with. Bringing him into his tent, the orders were given to tend to Buck's wounds, to bathe, and clothe him so that he would begin to feel normal again. Unable to tell the king what had been done to him, the younger Barnes could only weep when his king greeted him again with the triggering words and he transformed into a white wolf intent on tearing the young king apart. Backing him into a corner he was prepared to leap for the throat of his king, when Steven did a most extraordinary thing.

"I will not fight you, Buck," he said, calmly. "You have been my brother since I was a sickly boy. Together, we planted the fields with vegetables, and I learned the value of even the lowliest farm worker by working at your side. I saw you picking the lock on the slave boy's cage, then giving him the food that kept him alive as he escaped from a life of misery. I laughed as I watched you struggled to open a container of flour, almost rolling in glee as it covered your face in its white powder. I cried with you when your mother breathed her last. If I am to die by your hand, then I embrace it for we have been together in life, and it is right that we should be together in death."

He dropped his sword, then approached the wolf, reaching out with his hands, grasping the thick fur of its neck, then burying his face into it. The wolf, which had initially growled its threats at him, began to whimper and the small circle of men present in the tent watched in amazement as the enchantment ended and an unclothed Buck was revealed in the clutch of his foster brother's arms. All were sworn to secrecy that day, so that the wolf could not be controlled by any other.

The Sorceress thought long and hard over how the young king had been able to counter the enchantment. Her only answer was love; in this case the love between the two men as brothers, trusting each other completely. It was then she realized that the modern people she had to bring into this world needed the capacity to love and be loved, as well as the knowledge of science and engineering needed to transform her world. Looking around the young king's council, she saw men with potential that could be increased if the right catalyst could encourage those aptitudes. The rest of the modern people brought to this world would be women. It made sense to her, even in this land where women were still seen as belonging to their husband's and fathers. If she chose well the women who came in would prove their worth with their knowledge. If they were not up to the task, then she could return them, disguising their stay as a dream. It would mean she would have to split herself between many universes, but it was also possible to find other sorcerers in those other worlds who would send her the right people.

Her plan was put into motion and over the years the modern women were brought in, as the uncrowned king continued his war against the Mad Titan. After almost ten years of fighting the Titan made one last grasp for victory when he captured a large contingent of Steven's men. Imprisoned in a castle deep in his territory he hoped to draw in the young king, encircle him and kill him outright to secure his hold permanently. Instead, Buck came up with a plan to use the White Wolf against Thanos, slipping past his defences and freeing the men in question. In the process, he would learn the weaknesses of their enemy, returning back to be transformed into himself again. It was risky but it worked, and the men escaped, returning to the king's forces. Buck was not with them, having listened to the call of his wolf brethren and joining them in the forest. Anxious to restore his friend to his human form Steven had traps placed everywhere, finally enticing the ghostly White Wolf into one. As before, he approached him and convinced the wolf to allow the man to appear. Just as Buck appeared, the Titan attacked, taking advantage of his vulnerability. Even without clothes or weapons the younger Barnes fought alongside his brother, receiving a terrible wound to his left arm in the process. Determined to protect his friend to the end, Steven stood over his wounded brother and fought the Titan to the point of almost being defeated himself. The arrival of Prince Thorn, and the new Lord Stark, Anthony, whose father had died in battle the week before, distracted the Titan and together the three fought him, until King Steven picked up Thorn's hammer from where it had fallen and took the tyrant's head off in one fell swoop, ending ten years of war, and many more years of cruelty. The dark sorcerer disappeared, Thanos' remaining army dispersed like dried leaves in the wind, and peace was finally on the land.

Buck, still grievously hurt, prepared to receive the last rites as the priest appeared with the Sorceress. She declared that she could heal his wounds, although the scars would be a testament to his close demise, forever. With the king's insistence, she healed Buck, although it was two more days before he woke up, under the white sheets of a bed in the palace that the young king had called home as a little boy. An offer was made to him to stay as the Knight Commander of the King's Guard, but he declined, wanting to go home and finally marry his love, Hannah. He suggested the Falconer, Sam Wilson, would be a more suitable Knight Commander in the restored kingdom.

After several more days recovery he set out for his homelands, Eden Vale, where his father farmed a large plot under fealty to the Baron, a kind man who would have been part of the contingent helping the young king, except for his infirmity. His son, Helmut Zemo, had been part of the force against Thanos, although he had returned immediately after the death of the tyrant. By the time Buck returned to the land of Eden Vale, after King Steven's coronation, he learned that the younger Zemo had convinced Hannah's father to marry her to him, giving him a large dowry and a large plot of land as a reward. In desperation, Buck offered him everything he owned to divorce her, freeing her from the marriage. But Zemo, always jealous of the bond between king and farmer, declined, citing his right as heir to the elder Baron to choose any woman in his lands as his bride. For a year, he showed off his wife as much as possible, as well as his two mistresses, often when the three women were in the same room. It was humiliating for the young wife, and she took her own life in despair. Buck almost killed the heir to Eden Vale then, but his father convinced him to undergo training for the monastery and the younger Barnes, not yet fully a priest, opted to go to the Holy Lands on a journey across the ocean, trying to wrest control of those lands from those the church called heretics.

It was in those hot, arid lands where Buck, injured and left for dead after a battle was approached by a young, wild black stallion. The horse, whose glossy black coat and long mane marked him as being part of a bloodline long thought lost in the calamity, stood over the fallen soldier, seemingly intrigued by the man. Nudging him several times, he stayed with him until the man aroused once the sun was down. Nickering softly to him in the darkness the great horse watched as the man raised himself in the sands, looking around then spying him.

"Great horse," whispered Buck. "Are you real or are you my steed for the after life?"

Slowly approaching him, the horse lowered its head, nudging the wounded soldier. He inhaled the scent of the man, finding it pleasant and blew his own breath out through his nose. Then he kneeled down on one foreleg, low enough for the injured man to clamber onto his back. Wrapping his hands in the part of the mane closest to him, Buck leaned forward, then whispered in the Latin he had learned as part of his studies to join the priesthood.

"Magnus equus me domum." [Great horse, take me home.]

The horse reared up, as if in joy at finding the one who would ride him, then began to run through the sands. Always steady and sure footed, he brought the man to an oasis, where they both drank their fill from the well. Several date palms were convinced to drop their fruit to replenish his energy, and Buck began to believe that he and the horse were destined to be together. It was reinforced at their arrival at the garrison of his order, when the bishop saw the horse, and in his pride, commanded the young man to relinquish his ownership of it; since he was almost a priest, he should renounce all worldly possessions. When the bishop's stable hands attempted to put a bridle on the magnificent horse and lead him away, he lashed out, almost injuring one of them. Only Buck could calm him, and the bishop reluctantly admitted that God had seen fit to reward the man for his piety. Then he sent them both on a mission, to physically take a message to the bishop of another garrison, one located on the coast. Unknown to Buck, the message informed that bishop that the bearer was a heretic, the horse was his familiar, and both should be killed as enemies of the church. It was fortunate that the bishop at the other garrison was also a sorcerer, who had been part of the same vision that the Sorceress had seen about the younger Barnes' future. Instead of killing him, he told him the king had sent for him. He and the great horse should return back to the Broken Lands as soon as possible. When Buck protested the sorcerer reassured him.

"You and Magnus are needed there," he said, noticing the man's surprise at the name given the stallion. "He chose you because you knew his name already. He envisioned a life with you, one in the green lands of your home. This battle that we fight in this living hell on earth, will never be won, not in our lifetimes. Other battles await you, more important ones. Go, James Barnes, fulfill the destiny that awaits you. You are released from holy orders."

With papers proving his release, Buck and Magnus boarded a sailing ship that took them through the Mediterranean, stopping in what was once Spain. Several breeders of horses attempted to buy Magnus, one even attempted to steal him, but he protected the horse as his most precious possession. By the time they arrived at the port in the Broken Lands, a month had passed, and the two were as close as any human brothers could ever be. His arrival coincided with the news that the young Zemo had become Baron, after the death of his father, and that he had accused the elder Barnes of failure to pay his due for the years of his service to the estate.

"The Baron of the Rocky Woodlands passed away in your absence," said King Steven. "He left no heirs, as they perished during our battles against the Titan. I wish to offer the estate to you, to elevate you formally into a nobleman, as befits your own nature. As Zemo's equal, he cannot deny your request to pay your father's so-called debt, which I have ruled is 20 gold pieces. Take your father home, Buck. Be my Right Hand, by law as you have always been by brotherhood."

"Only if I take the title of Lord, instead. Lord Buchanan, so that my mother's family name still lives on."

He looked steadily at his foster brother who agreed, and the investiture was performed, although there were some, like Lord Dreykov and Lord Pierce, who were not happy at the elevation of a farmer into the nobility. After making their opposition known, they abided by the King's decision and when Lord Buchanan rode the magnificent black stallion, Magnus, onto Zemo's estate to collect his father, he did it with several men from his own garrison. Some of them, like Rhodes, his new garrison commander, were men he had served with during the long war with Thanos.

"Baron Zemo!" he announced from the courtyard, so that all present could hear him. "By order of the king I offer you the settlement of 20 gold pieces to pay any debt that you feel is owed to you by my father. I await my father's presence as required by the law of the Kingdom of the Broken Lands."

He had been coached on what to say by Jarvis, the king's historian, whose knowledge of the laws of the land was unparalleled. It was several minutes before Zemo appeared, standing on a balcony in his sleeping clothes with two women draped over him, both of them scandalously unclothed.

"His debt is much greater," said Zemo, sullenly.

"Not according to your king," stated Buchanan. "With witnesses present I have been authorized to inform you that if you do not accept the king's judgement in this that you will be considered to be in breach of your vow of fealty to him, made in the presence of God, and in the presence of your peers. You will start a civil war which you have no chance of winning. The choice is yours, Zemo."

"You must be enjoying this," said the haughty baron. "All the money I laid out for Hannah's dowry, which she cheated me out of by killing herself just a day after I would be unable to claim it back. Your own father's debt of hundreds of gold coins reduced to just 20."

Buchanan's hand settled on the hilt of his sword. "You do not have the right to talk ill of the dead," he replied, with glowering eyes. "This is my last request for my father. How do you answer?"

The baron looked behind him, nodding at another person. Then he faced Buchanan.

"I accept the king's wisdom," he said. "Your father is being brought up at this moment. Please hand the 20 gold pieces to my steward."

"When I see my father I will give it to you," answered Buchanan, his hand still on his weapon.

Moments later two guards dragged his father out in a sorry state and for a moment Lord Buchanan contemplated taking his own revenge on the arrogance of the baron. His father was filthy, his clothes covered in the excrement of himself and other animals. Rhodes glanced at his lord, then dismounted with another man, and searched the face of the old man who was before him. After several questions, he was convinced it was the elder Buchanan and nodded to the newly invested lord. He gestured to another soldier who left, returning with a small cart, fitted out with a soft bed. Together they helped the old man onto the cart.

Buchanan hefted the pouch with the gold coins in it for a long moment, considering whether to empty it into the horse shit-filled courtyard, but instead he handed it to the steward and turned Magnus around.

"See you at the palace sometime," said Zemo, as a farewell but Buchanan did not respond, wanting only to return with his father to their new home.

As soon as they were past the border of Eden Vale, they stopped at an inn, where more of his garrison waited, along with Mary, the housekeeper of the former lord. She knew both the elder Barnes and the younger man well, having become friends with them as they sold their vegetables. When she saw the condition of the older man she burst into tears.

"It's not right, M'Lord, that the Baron can get away with this," she said. "Why is he so cruel, when his father was a kind and just man?"

"There is darkness in all men, Mary," replied the young lord, as he picked his father up in his arms, and took him inside the inn, where she had already drawn a bath for the man. "Come, let's get him cleaned up." He looked at Rhodes. "See to your men, make sure they have food, drink and a place to sleep for the night. I have rented all the rooms so some may have to double up, but we won't leave until my father is well enough to travel. The Sorceress is on her way?"

"Aye, she is, sir," said Mary. "The falconer said she should be here before the dawn. Six of the King's Guard accompany her, including the Knight Commander."

"Good, they will also make sure that Baron Zemo makes no attempt at retribution against me."

Together they undressed the old man and Buchanan laid him in the metal tub of warm water. While Mary washed his hair, Buchanan washed his father's body, alarmed at the bruises and cuts he had received while in Zemo's dungeons. It stoked his anger and several times he wanted only to mount Magnus and ride back to that castle to challenge the Baron to a duel for his mistreatment of a man the old Baron considered a friend. However, a voice, perhaps of the Sorceress herself, whispered that someday he would have his moment to dispatch the Baron.

Before dawn, as promised, the Sorceress arrived and was ushered into Buchanan's room, where he rested on a mat on the floor next to his father's bed. As he anxiously watched while she placed her cool hands on the old man's face, murmuring incantations, he saw his father's tortured look finally relax. When the Sorceress pulled her hands away, she patted his father on the chest then bid Buchanan to join her outside the room.

"Your father has suffered a damaging injury to his mind," she said. "I have done what I could, but it is permanent, made worse by the treatment he suffered in Zemo's dungeons." Immediately, Buchanan sought his sword, but she stayed his hand. "If you seek revenge now, you will lose to him. You will be killed and all that is planned for you will be for nought."

"Planned for me? What is planned for me?"

"I cannot enlighten you to that," she answered calmly. "Just believe that you are destined for something good and great, that will serve your king and the people not only of this kingdom but all who still live on this planet. That's not to say that there won't be heartbreak along the way because there will be. My Lord Buchanan, you are one of the best men in this kingdom; the king being another. Other men take inspiration from you and will for many years. But, if you give in to your need for immediate revenge now, or in the future, it will rebound back on you tenfold and undo everything good you have accomplished. Please, heed my counsel. Other battles await you, more important ones. Your time to avenge the evil done by Baron Zemo will come and when it does, I will not block your path."

He breathed heavily for several long minutes, considering her words. Other battles await you, more important ones. Those were the exact same words spoken by the bishop in the coastal garrison of the holy lands, words spoken by a man of God, then repeated just now by a holder of the deeper magic. He removed his hand from his sword.

"Very well," he replied. "I will not take my revenge on Baron Zemo until the time is right, until the day when you do not stop me from my path."

"Thank you," she answered, placing her cool hands on his much larger and more calloused ones. "Allow your father to rest until midday, then return to your estate. Give him a garden to plant and tend. It will keep his mind occupied and make him happy. There will be days he knows you but there will be days he doesn't. Be kind, love him, he was and is a good father to you and the king."

"What of you?" he asked. "Will you rest?"

She smiled. "When I have accomplished all that is before me, I will rest. I promise."

Over the next few years, there was peace in the kingdoms, as the various kings and their noblemen set about to restore prosperity to the lands ravaged by Thanos reign and the long war. More modern people arrived, women with knowledge of science, technology, medicine, and engineering. The Sorceress began sharing "visions" of what the women had left behind in their universes and although the inhabitants of this world didn't really understand they saw the visions of great cities of glass and steel, factories that churned out whatever was needed in those worlds, marketplaces filled with all sorts of food. Even television and movies were explained, although not fully understood. The more enlightened lords, like Stark and Buchanan, saw some good in the visions they were given. Stark sought to understand how those great machines could work and when he found the modern woman who would become his wife in his stable, agreed to keep her presence a secret for in her world, there was a history of women with her knowledge being treated as dangerous. Buchanan fell in love with a modern woman, Elena, but he was a possessive husband, and she felt stifled, never happy with her life on the estate. When she expressed a desire to return home or die trying, the Sorceress sent her back, removing the memory of her life in their world. Buchanan, who had awoken alone, was harder to treat, as his love was deep and the only reason he could accept for her leaving was her death, so the Sorceress put that into his mind. She felt terrible for the manipulation and even worse when Baron Zemo overheard her confide that to King Steven's wife, formally Queen Margaret, or Peg as she was commonly called. He used that knowledge to his advantage, keeping both women wondering when he would reveal their shared secret.

Peggy Carter, a British captain in the army, was no fool. A former spy, she was pulled out of her world just before her counterpart died in a suicide bombing in London. Landing in the forest, directly in front of King Steven as he rode to get away from the pressures of ruling, she was recognized as military by him, just by her uniform. Introducing himself, he offered to help her up behind him on his horse, impressed at how she used her own strength as well as his to climb up. Surprised that he didn't seem afraid of her, he told her how there were many modern women appearing in the land, all of them accomplished.

"By your garb, I take it you were a soldier," he said. "You wear cloth breeches and have regalia on your collar and sleeves that mark you as having a commission."

"I am a Captain," she replied. "I saw several tours of combat and can fight against most men, holding my own against them. Do you not have women in your military here?"

"No, although it is an idea I have contemplated," he said. "Certainly, there have been some who managed to live just fine without a husband or male relative to provide for them. They seem to chop wood, hunt, and fish on their own with few difficulties. It stands to reason they could probably fight if they had to. However, there are many more men who still think women should stay at home and take care of their children. Not all women are meant for that however."

"We have a saying in my world for men like that," she ventured. "Fuck the patriarchy."

At first, he was shocked to hear those words come from her lips, then he laughed and looked back at her.

"What would you replace it with?"

"Equality for all sexes," she replied. "You must have men who prefer men, women who prefer women, some that prefer both or several at the same time. Replace the patriarchy with respect for everyone and let them live their lives. As long as no one is hurt, what does it matter?"

"Indeed, what does it matter?"

Over the next few weeks, he found Peg, as she preferred to be called, was more than capable of holding her own against most men, although she didn't know sword play, her staff skills were basic, as were her archery skills. But in hand-to-hand combat, few men could best her. When she saw a carbine, that a pedlar from one of the far-off lands had brought in as personal protection she talked the man into letting her fire several rounds at a target, convincing the king to pay him a gold piece for the opportunity. She hit the target dead centre each time.

"Where did this come from?" she asked. "It has US Army markings on it."

"It is ancient," he said. "I traded for it in the Oklahoma wilderness where the first peoples who were there from the beginning still live. I had some copper wire that I salvaged from another place. They saw it, offered me the carbine, plus a horse. It was a good trade, but I will need more rounds of ammunition for it. I just hope that what I have lasts until I get back there with something else to trade."

She looked at the king. "You have the makings of gunpowder, don't you?" He nodded. "Do you have any blacksmiths or farriers with modern knowledge?" He nodded again. She looked at the pedlar. "I will see if I can duplicate your ammunition. I'll need a single round to measure and weigh the components."

"Another gold piece," he offered.

She looked back at Steven, who nodded, producing a gold piece from a leather pouch. They didn't see each other for two weeks as she worked almost exclusively with the farrier. During that time, she figured out very quickly that the Sorceress had a plan, seeing how she nudged attitudes and decisions towards things that would make life better. The Sorceress also didn't seem surprised with what Peg was doing. When the pedlar stopped at the palace before returning to their land, she presented him with a case of 24 rounds of ammunition.

"That is a gift," she said. "As long as you don't tell anyone where you got them from. It will be our secret. Do you agree?"

"If you know how to make more rounds you should be trading them," he said. "I know many pedlars with carbines that are useless because they ran out of ammunition and haven't found anything the Oklahomans want in trade."

She shrugged. "Let's just say I'm working on something a little easier to carry but it would be better if no one knew about it just yet. When we are ready, we can talk."

The little something she referred to was a hand pistol, easily reloaded, and able to be carried on a holster that fit around the waist. Wanting to demonstrate to the king how effective it could be as an additional weapon she agreed to demonstrate it in the woods, accompanied only by the King and Lord Buchanan, his Right Hand and foster brother. As expected, like other men of their world, they were both of the opinion that her demonstration would not change their minds on the pistol's benefits. When she hit the six-inch diameter target from over a hundred yards away both men very quickly changed their opinion. Giving them both the opportunity to try it for themselves she was gratified when they both agreed it would be a superior weapon to add to their arsenal and plans were made to begin manufacturing them. After Buchanan retired for the night, the King realized that Peg was a woman of exceptional capability, whose mere presence set his heart racing. Impulsively, he asked for her hand in marriage. Just as impulsively, she accepted.

This was the state of the kingdom when it seemed that the influx of modern women suddenly slowed, affecting the rate of change in the home world of the Sorceress. Although she was in communication with her future version, Wanda Maximoff, the Sorceress was worried that just as they were on the brink of a major breakthrough that could save her world, the last few women that were needed to help the process had not yet been found. That was, until a young woman named Ileana, a victim of an assault, was brought in unconscious to the ER. Accompanied by her blind date, named Bucky, who had arrived at the scene of the assault too late to prevent it, Wanda was surprised to find that he was Lord Buchanan's counterpart, while Ileana was another counterpart of the nobleman's deceased wife Elena. Advising the Sorceress of the pair's appearance, they sent this version of Ileana to that world, hoping that this time she would choose to stay. Still, they prepared for the possibility she wouldn't. At the time, both the Sorceress and the doctor believed only one of the two young women would survive. After several tense days that fear proved groundless as both versions chose to stay where they were, binding themselves to their world's James Buchanan Barnes.

In that world that was thrown back in time, Ileana quickly became Lady Buchanan, and joined the Queen's Guard, learning the necessities of sword play, and physical fighting with a staff or pike. Over a longer time, the mother of two daughters and two sons, became an essential part of the Queen's Council, formed of both modern and native-born women in the kingdom. Arising out of an ad hoc strike that formed where the women of the kingdom refused their services unless they received the same rights as men, it spread to a movement to improve health care, educational opportunities in higher learning and trades, and raise the standard of living overall.

Her version of James Buchanan Barnes, Lord Buchanan, remained as the King's Right Hand, his most trusted advisor. He became a leading statesman for the kingdom, travelling across the land and even across the ocean to the east, establishing diplomatic relations with those kingdoms that had survived the calamity there. Remaining allied closely to the Kingdom of the Green Lands, ruled progressively by King Thorn, the Kingdom of Blue Waters, also ruled progressively by Queen Maria, the Confederation of Oklahoma Tribes, led by the Grand Chief Waya, and the Lone Star Republic, governed by a council led by his foster son, Quin Torres-Walker, Buchanan often travelled with their emissaries as a group, showing a unified position to the rest of the world as they sought out the survivors of the calamity, now estimated to have happened almost 700 years before.

For all of his travelling, Buchanan was happiest at home on his estate, with his beloved Ileana. The last of the Sorceress' magic, along with the connection he had with his wife, was what brought him back from the last known appearance of the White Wolf. Although he never transformed into that mystical creature again, it was said that he sometimes rode into the forests of his estate and communed with the wolves there, accompanied by Sky, the black wolf that chose to live with him.

It was more likely to see Buchanan in the company of Dr. Bruce Banner, once known only as Bruce the Giant. Finding his own place in the kingdom as the chief scientific and medical advisor to the king, he lived a mostly quiet life with his wife, Betty, a modern born veterinarian. Able to reclaim his human form, after a moment of realization that he was happy in his situation, he was respected by many and consulted on most endeavours of a scientific nature.

The biggest of those ventures, the coordination of the remaining missiles of destruction, plus others that were located to destroy any remaining asteroids that threatened their world was ambitious. Using the observations of several large telescopes that were discovered and restored, plus the calculations of the supercomputer safely ensconced in the port of the Broken Lands kingdom, a team of modern born scientists, including Banner, and Queen Jane of the Kingdom of the Green Lands, plus several brilliant minds that came from the world as it was, including Lord Anthony Stark, William Harley, and Silas Brenson (still refusing any title offered to him), watched one morning as a coordinated launch of all the missiles was sent into the asteroid cloud. With the cooperation of many to keep the population inside at the moment of impact a great flash was seen from far away, confirming the impact of the missiles on the deadly rocks. Broken up into many smaller, less lethal meteoroids that mostly burned up in the atmosphere, the few that did make it to the ground became treasured souvenirs of the day that their world became free of the threat of destruction from above. For several nights after the event, the night skies glowed as the Northern Lights seemed to celebrate their good fortune. Life for this universe's version of Earth became good and its people prospered.

➿ ➿

In the modern world only a few hours passed between the time Ileana arrived at the emergency room, then woke up and went off into the night with her blind date, Bucky Barnes. The appearance of the Northern Lights so far south as New Orleans, as they walked outside seemed to be a sign that their romance was off to a good start. Certainly, the former Sorceress, now fully integrated into one being, as Dr. Wanda Maximoff, still had enough of her old magic left to give the couple a blessing, ensuring that they would have a good life.

Now just over 700 years old, she had expended all of her supernatural abilities into keeping her old world alive after the calamity that almost destroyed it. It hadn't been just keeping the asteroids at bay, nudging them in space to avoid impact as best she could. It had also been ensuring that the satellites visible in the sky to Lord Buchanan that one night, kept circling the planet without decaying their orbits, especially the International Space Station. Viewing that had confirmed to the modern born women that the backwards world they now found themselves on had once been advanced and could be again. Her powers had also been used to keep batteries charged in the missile silos, long enough for them to be discovered, explored, then powered by solar or wind power developed on site. Countless encounters between modern borns, and native borns, even the pairing of certain native borns had been instigated by her, in the hopes of creating the necessary partnerships that would save the world. The draining of her own powers was freely given, and she was now content to live her life as a mortal, aging normally in this modern world she now found herself in.

Wanda would always remember the moment she first saw the gravely injured Lord Buchanan on the battlefield after the defeat of the Mad Titan, realizing this was the man who could be the linchpin of the great change needed to save her home world. In an instant, she recognized the nobility within him, seeing his whole past and future history flash in her mind. From his beginnings as a lowly born farmer, reluctant but exemplary soldier, and almost priest, to respected lord and statesman, she saw the path laid before him with clarity, a path she could ensure would happen. There would be times of heartbreak, but also great happiness and satisfaction in his life, for he truly saw the greater picture, and was a man who saw duty as an obligation. More than anyone else, she would ensure his survival and his happiness, knowing that he was worthy of the accolades that would be said about him for many years. Because of her, the story of Lord Buchanan, born James Buchanan Barnes, would be part of that world's history forever.

THE END - FINALLY!

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