#in sorrow we must go but not in despair...

[regulusrules]

A very long meta explaining why the confession scene in Good Omens is the best that has ever been written and performed on screen

First of, the scene begins with two different realisations that makes each of them believe that their dynamic will significantly change (Crowley wanting to confess his love and Aziraphale wanting to break out the news about heaven). This, you can see, creates an unprecedented shift in their energy, makes them super excited (Azi) and super nervous (Crowley) to break the news to one another. And despite the two matters being drastically different, when Aziraphale begins his revelation we don't get the Miscommunication trope where Crowley listens to the offer and passively retreats back his emotions. No. He is steadfast in his resolution, in his love for Aziraphale.

And that right here is king attitude no.1, because even if Aziraphale just threw something so godforsaken on him, he won't allow himself to be cowardly or let go of the one person he loves more than eternity. Crowley still bares his heart, still lets it all out, because he will not lose Aziraphale in his naivete of still believing that Heaven is good and Hell is evil. (I write this with supreme detachment of my own beliefs lol) He tries to make Aziraphale understand that sides didn't do them any good the past 6000 years, that the only solid foundation they ever had was them, and that Crowley would rather have them than have everything.

The way you hear Tennant's voice breaking when he said “And we spent our whole existence pretending that we aren’t”, is the perfect reflection of how Crowley genuinely despairs the time they lost and wouldn't have any more of it. And even with how bare and raw he's feeling with revealing all this, he still goes on. He still tries to tell him and I would like to spend our whole existence together, but struggles and struggles because he's strung wide open. But he keeps trying.

Now you see here a moment of disbelief on Aziraphale's behalf, because he doesn't understand why Crowley would refuse going back to heaven with him when all Aziraphale remembers of Angel!Crowley was how utterly bright his eyes shone when he lit up the stars and surely Crowley must miss that too? He wants the same thing Crowley is saying, just in a different dimension. The “I can make a difference” immediately changes to “We can make a difference” because that's all what’s ever been for Aziraphale; them changing the small engines of the world according to their partnered will. He is genuinely benign and not ill-intentioned when he says “Nothing lasts forever”, because he truly wants a better life for them, a better existence. And that's when it gets better: Crowley has his walls back up, he's walking away, because he can't bear that he was never enough as he is for Aziraphale. That he was never worth reciprocation.

But Aziraphale doesn't let him leave.

And that is king attitude no.2, because he doesn't want Crowley to leave when things are strewn all over the place that they don't know where they stand. All Aziraphale ever wanted was for them to stand on the same ground. He asks him to come back to him but hides it by finishing it with “to heaven!” because the whole conversation is going too fast for him, and he's undergoing a religious crisis of sorts that does not end in 6000 years, yet even so he still doesn't want to lose Crowley because he's everything he has and he can't do it without him and “I — I need you!”

And that's when it gets reaaally interesting. Aziraphale's expression then turns from sorrowful desperation to rageful desperation, because he's baring his heart and Crowley is walking away from him. Their solid ground is completely shaken when he says “I don't think you understand what I'm offering you” because he's trying to be subtle about his love for Crowley and still direct as much as he can, but Crowley responds with a condescending “I think I understand a whole lot better than you do” and if this isn't peak human beings in their arguments, I don't know what is. Because we all think we are so misunderstood every time we get into an argument with someone we love, and we absolutely despise it when we feel patronized, so it's no wonder Aziraphale bitterly says “Then there's nothing more to say”, because if Crowley understands, truly does, then he'd see right past his fear to how much he loves the ground Crowley walks over.

And on the other hand I don't believe Crowley truly meant to be patronizing, but in a desperate last attempt he wanted to make Aziraphale understand what he is trying to say, what he spent his entire eternity feeling for Aziraphale, what Aziraphale would be giving up if he goes to heaven. What their life sounds like with no nightingales.

“You idiot, we could've been.. us” is the very culmination of love confessions. It took every single emotion and equated it. Tennant's delivery of it was unsurpassed in the way that it truly covers everything. And the way he grabbed Aziraphale, not entirely lovingly but desperately and angrily and, honest to God, awfully, is the reason why their kiss is so perfect. No queerbaiting, no beating around bushes. It is raw and sad and giving and agonising. Crowley wants to say see what you're giving up? See what we can have? And all Aziraphale thinks is how could you lay this on me now after everything, after every chance we could've been something, after me loving you from the first time I've met you. He's angry towards himself too, because nothing he can offer Crowley will be good enough that he chooses him instead of his choices. Sheen's choice in making his character grab Crowley's shoulder and let it go and then grab it once more in desperation is so unexplainably perfect of how much Aziraphale wants to hold onto Crowley.

But in the back of his mind, Crowley isn't choosing the same. Instead, Crowley's choosing to run from something that no doubt will rebound in their faces. They are angels and demons of heaven and hell, how could Crowley expect they could run and hide without being a repercussion later on? At least what Aziraphale is suggesting ensures that they will have a high position of power, enough to make them together, enough to make them happy, but instead, Crowley is walking away.

And when Crowley lets go of him, not the other way around because of course it is Crowley who must let go and detach from the utter pain that pierced his heart, you can see his expression being one of defeated longing. He sees all expressions passing across Aziraphale, sees how torn apart the other man is, too, and awaits just a semblance of anything they could work with. But instead, Aziraphale's face closes, and he tells Crowley “I forgive you”, and Crowley thinks this must be his second falling, because he's never felt more pain. “Don’t bother”, he says, yet still waits for Aziraphale outside and doesn't leave until Aziraphale has left him. Because in the end, Crowley would always be there for Aziraphale, even if he doesn’t feel worthy of it.

And that, my beloveds, is why eternity will remember this scene.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #david tennant #michael sheen #good omens meta #LJ metas #regulusrules metas

[mako-neexu]

"surely this time i will be normal for one day"

[suddenly remembers prison tower is supposed to end you bc goetia planned it but dantes took on the role of being your abbe faria and became your tiny light of hope in this prison of despair because he himself knows better than anyone how it feels to be an innocent soul, to be dragged and trapped in a life of despair, betrayal, and be casted away in a hell where madmen dont come out alive and so saves you by killing him, "the one who escaped the chateau d'lf", he's also summoned initially as a tool to kill you but dantes, initially being just a shadow, made ogawa heim because 'fuck u goetia' and caught feelings seeing guda's iron determination so fought alongside them and against the one who gave him a demon worm in his head. and just as he became your tiny light of hope in prison tower, you get to see him casually admit guda is his "destiny" and saw them as someone who is "radiant" after going through everything with them…like you know, a star. thats why both his np refer to guda in the new saint graph. because a star burns brighter than flames, more dazzlingly than fire that he himself is in awe of you and made a new alt solely because of you, inspired by you, even as he hurt himself by creating a new spirit origin, because his wish is solely for you to see the end of your journey and reach antarctica, because guda is a person -is a living human - who wants to see tomorrow and thus he split himself into two- or rather assigned himself and his other self in the singularity "count of determination (to bring about the 7 tribulations)" and as the "count of regret (you, his worry, who has to go through this harsh journey)". count of determination is the one who enacted the trials, because he is the spirit origin who is a ruthless murderer from his revenge story and thus must make sure guda goes through the merciless trials to go forward, yet count of regret is still worried all the same for guda considering the dangers of creating this world and with cagliostro around and other unpredictable variables, and in this ongoing journey thats why "black shadow" count is still on the look out for you. and in these trials he is both your ally and enemy that you must overcome because he wants!! you!! to move forward!!! even as you face your most trusted betray you, overcoming despair and hatred even as you drown in hopelessness seeing those you love die, overcoming his flames and as he extends a hand out and tempt you into a life where where you are a god of revenge, reaching an end that you hope for- a tomorrow that you want. (because we dont know what happened to the "real" dantes whereas dumas' version wrote that love extinguished his flames, and so left france behind with haydee. a fictional happy end that most likely didnt apply to the real dantes given his attitude to dumas and his version of the story since they never interacted again beyond dumas talking about writing his tale. )

an end that also isnt part of the famous Avenger, Count of Monte Cristo summoned to the grand order, only the popular interpretation/parts that people remember the most engraved in his spirit origin. and for him, this avenger, this part of his life where he is at his lowest who became your tiny light of hope in that prison tower, despite burning with eternal hatred chose love time and time again, save you, help you time and time again, because he doesnt want you to end up like him. one who has lost all things precious to you and so turning into a life of vengeance and blood, burning everything to cinders until you as well consume yourself, losing yourself in the process, becoming an empty shell, quietly dying as emptiness and quietness takeover the aftermath of those flames. you, as radiant as a star, don't deserve that kind of fate. you, his accomplice, his co-conspirator should never succumb to or have that kind of fate where only hate, sorrow and despair awaits you at the end nor does he want your journey to be at a standstill, idle, where you are helpless the more this story- this journey drags on and unable to move forward because of forces beyond your control.]

[through my teeth/clenches my fists] "oh. okay. so we're doing this now. okay."

#fate grand order #fgo #edguda #in my opnion www #feel free to correct me bc i typed this without stopping akwfnskdgh #cut also because i realize its ridiculously long #guda #edmond dantes #ordeal call chapter 2 spoilers

[fanficdelulus]

Renewed

Fate (Gojo x Fem! Reader)

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Violet eyes shrinking in horror once more as Suguru pushed past the heavy double doors of the church. His gaze immediately locked on his best friend. Satoru was sorrowfully carrying Riko's lifeless body towards him, a white sheet draped over her, while white-gown-clad church members smiled and clapped in an unsettling celebration.

"Satoru? Is that you?" Suguru shakily questioned as his longtime friend neared him. "Looks like you saw Shoko," Satoru noted as his gaze lingered behind Suguru in search of you.

"Yeah... I'm fine. (Name) is—" Suguru paused, his voice faltering as his violet eyes clouded over in dismay. His mind flashed back to the moment he was dragging the two of you towards the medical sector in search of Shoko.

"Suguru... we have to help Satoru," you wearily murmured as blood rushed past your lips, and coughs wracked your fragile frame.

"Shoko's doing everything she can to help her," Suguru replied, his voice heavy with sadness as his eyes caught Riko's lifeless hand falling out from underneath the covering.

"I'm the one who messed up," Satoru regretfully remarked, a pitiful sigh escaping his lips. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with grief and despair. Satoru's voice quivered as he made a grim suggestion, his eyes reflecting the pain that weighed down his heart. "Should we kill them all? The way I am right now, I wouldn't feel a thing."

Suguru, ever the voice of reason, shook his head slowly, his expression a mix of sadness and understanding. "No," he began, his voice low and filled with sorrow, "it would be pointless. We, as Jujutsu Sorcerers, must always have a reason."

With a heavy heart, Suguru reached for Riko's lifeless form in Satoru's arms. The two of them were caught in a painful moment of loss and helplessness, the significance of the situation weighing heavily on their souls.

Suguru tried to offer Satoru some consolation. "Go see Shoko," he advised, his voice gentle but laden with sorrow. "She'll help you once she's done with (Name)." The room held a sense of profound grief and despair as they grappled with their losses and the harsh reality of their world.

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Satoru returned to school with a heavy heart. Guilt gnawed at him as he entered the med sector. His gaze fell upon you, and a deep sense of remorse washed over him. You lay in the bed, looking incredibly frail, your face pallid, and red splotches of pain marring your cheeks. Each slow and labored breath you took felt like a dagger in his chest.

His fingers hesitated above your limp hand, the guilt making it hard to bring himself to touch you. Just then, the door to the room creaked open, and Satoru turned to see Shoko entering.

"The blade that pierced through her chest had been tipped with poison," Shoko explained as she walked out of the storage closet, a pack of cigarettes in hand. Her words struck Satoru like a blow to the chest. "I've done all I can for her," she continued, her voice grave. "She's strong, though. I'll patch you up when I come back."

With those words, Shoko turned and exited the room, leaving Satoru alone with you. The weight of his guilt and the uncertainty of your condition hung in the air as he stood by your side.

Satoru was surprised when he arrived at the medical ward as usual, only to find your bed empty. Suguru had been sent on a mission, so he was alone. Shoko approached him, seeming to anticipate his concern.

"Yaga moved her back to her room this morning," Shoko informed him, her tone calm and professional. "Her wounds have completely healed. We're just waiting for her fever to break."

Satoru watched her walk off to the storage room. The news was somewhat of a relief, yet anxiety still gnawed at him, wondering how you were faring in your room. Quickly finding himself in an unexpected position, holding a tray of medical supplies in his arms, as Shoko suggested he go check on you.

"Why me?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, not exactly known for his caregiving skills.

"Because you care about her," Shoko replied matter-of-factly. "She's comfortable with you around. Now go."

Satoru sighed and made his way towards your room. This was not a situation he was accustomed to. But he couldn't deny that he cared about you, perhaps more than he'd care to admit.

Opening your door with a hesitancy he didn't usually experience. Inside, Satoru found you, lying still in your bed. As he got closer, he couldn't help but notice the returning color to your cheeks. The slow, steady rise and fall of your chest was a reassuring sight, and he took a deep breath, feeling a hint of relief.

Moving a chair next to your bed, he took a seat and set the tray of supplies aside, before watching over you. It was an unfamiliar situation for him. He wasn't used to caring for someone in this way. Satoru's usual self-confidence wavered as he sat there, silently willing your fever to break and for you to awaken.

He continued to remain in your room as the minutes stretching into hours. His usually composed exterior concealed the swirl of emotions he felt as he kept a vigilant eye on your peacefully resting form.

In a moment of somber realization, Satoru sat alone in your room, his gaze methodically moving across the minimalistic decor. It was a room void of the usual family photos and mementos, and that absence spoke volumes about the painful truth. His knowledge of the tragic night when Toji Fushiguro had brutally taken your parents' lives and nearly claimed your own had added a heavy layer of understanding to the room's emptiness.

As his piercing aquamarine eyes roamed your room, he couldn't help but marvel at your tenacity. You had faced the man who'd slaughtered your family and tried to take your life a second time. It was a story that gave new meaning to the word "strong."

Satoru found himself contemplating the meaning of strength. Until now, he had often defined it by raw power and cursed techniques, but your story had offered a different perspective. He couldn't help but have newfound respect for those he had once deemed weak. In your courage and resilience, he discovered the true essence of strength – the ability to confront the darkest aspects of life and emerge stronger.

The minimalistic decor of your room, the stark emptiness, seemed to resonate with the profound void that your heart might have felt after losing your family. The room felt almost too quiet, a stillness that mirrored the absence of those you loved. Yet, amidst this emptiness, a childishly decorated picture frame on your nightstand drew Satoru's attention.

As he picked up the frame and gazed at the photo within, a subtle, melancholic smile graced his lips. The picture showed you, your face lit up with pure joy, alongside two other children who were clearly not related by blood. Yet, the bond you shared in the photo was unmistakable. He assumed these must be your siblings despite the lack of any family resemblance.

It was an image of carefree happiness, the three of you captured at a lake, enjoying a beautiful day together. The laughter and pure joy on your faces were infectious. In that single photo, Satoru saw the essence of what you had been fighting for – a world where such moments of happiness and innocence could be preserved.

As Satoru sat by your side, a sudden, painful moan escaped your lips, immediately snapping his full attention back to you. He carefully set the picture frame aside and brought the back of his hand to your forehead, checking your temperature.

His brow furrowed with concern as he noted your fever was still elevated. He reached for the cooling towel that lay nearby and gently placed it on your forehead. He planned to change it shortly when a sharp gasp from you made him pause.

In an instant, his silent prayers were answered. Your eyes sprang open, still dark and hazy with sleep, but it was a sight that filled Satoru with immense relief.

"[Name], you're awake," he whispered, his voice laced with both surprise and happiness.

Concern filled his bright blue eyes as he noticed the panic in yours, and soon it was replaced by pure fear. He was about to ask if you were okay when you suddenly threw your arms around him.

"You're alive, Satoru..." you sobbed as you tightly held onto him, your cries quickly reminding him of the horrifying events that unfolded three days ago.

Satoru's heart skipped a beat at the mix of relief and fear in your actions. His arms slowly encircled you, holding you close. He knew that he had survived Toji's brutal attack, but the pain and trauma from that experience still lingered. In this moment, you were his lifeline, grounding him in the present.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice trembling with raw emotion, as he gently stroked your back. "I'm alive, and so are you."

Your [e/c] eyes filled with fear, and your heart raced as you anxiously questioned, "Where's Suguru? Did Toji get away?" Your breaths came out in frantic, panicked pants.

Satoru, with a protective instinct, pulled you even closer while you were already sitting in his lap. He held you tightly, his voice a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos. "Suguru's fine," he said with a calm yet comforting tone. "I took care of Toji."

You felt a mix of emotions flooding through you, and your voice trembled as you questioned, "Toji, is he...?" The words trailed off, the unspoken fear still lingering.

Satoru nodded reassuringly, confirming your unspoken fears. "He's gone."

Relief washed over you, and you felt tears of gratitude welling up in your [e/c] eyes. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of emotions, grateful that your friends were safe. In that moment, you clung to Satoru, thankful for his presence and protection, and the world began to regain its balance.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as you became more aware of your position. Flustered and embarrassed, you couldn't help but take note of the way his arms held you securely. Cheeks burning as you glanced down at the situation, realizing you were nestled in the crook of his neck, perched atop his lap.

Lifting your head slowly, you met Satoru's gaze, his aquamarine eyes filled with a mix of emotions. Your cheeks flushed, and you stammered, "I'm so sorry, Satoru, I didn't mean to... I mean, I didn't realize..."

He interrupted with a soft chuckle, "No need to apologize, [Name]. You just woke up, and you were scared. It's completely understandable.” A mix of embarrassment and gratitude washed over you as he continued to hold you in his strong, reassuring arms.

Satoru's thoughts were in turmoil as he held you close, your presence stirring something deep within him. He couldn't quite explain why he felt such a strong connection to you, drawn by an inexplicable warmth that seemed to radiate from your very being. But for now, he kept those feelings to himself, silently relishing the simple pleasure of having you safe in his arms.

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A whole year of intense training had passed, during which you, Satoru, Shoko, and Suguru had dedicated yourselves to honing your jujutsu skills. Under the guidance of the skilled Satoru Gojo, you had not only become proficient but had also developed a deeper understanding of your abilities. Days filled with relentless practice and nights of studying had gone by in a flash, and your progress was evident.

During this year, you had not only grown more powerful but also closer to Satoru. His expert guidance had become a beacon of inspiration for your development. You admired him not only for his incredible powers but also for the warmth he carried around him, a stark contrast to his often cheeky and carefree exterior. Your training sessions often felt more like bonding moments, and you had shared stories, laughter, and even moments of vulnerability.

Satoru's eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint as he stood before you, instructing the three of you to throw the stationary items you held at him, you and Shoko exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and curiosity in your eyes.

With a synchronized motion, you, Shoko, and Suguru hurled your items toward Satoru. What followed was nothing short of spectacular. Each item you threw hit an invisible barrier, stopped in its tracks. Your amazement was undeniable, and an enthusiastic "Wow!" escaped both you and Shoko as you witnessed this incredible display of power.

Satoru couldn't hide his cheeky grin as he revealed his ability to use Limitless nearly constantly. It was an awe-inspiring feat, but Shoko couldn't help but voice her concern. "You're gonna fry your brain like that," she skeptically noted.

Satoru, however, remained carefree and confident as ever. "I can also use my reverse curse technique around the clock, so I’ll always have a fresh brain," he cheekily informed you all.

"Now, [Name], show them what you've been working on," Satoru encouraged as he gestured for you to come forward. With a deep breath, you knelt down, placing your hands on the dry, dusty ground. A tingling sensation surged through your fingers as you channeled your curse energy.

In an instant, the earth beneath you transformed, blooming with fresh and vibrant flowers. Their sweet scent filled the air, intoxicatingly delightful, and Shoko and Suguru couldn't resist the allure of the blossoms. They happily walked among the vibrant petals, brushing them with their hands. Laughter bubbled from their lips as they fell to the ground, rolling in the flower-filled field, their giggles of joy filling the air. It was as if they'd been transported to a dreamlike meadow.

With a gentle smile, you ceased using your technique. The intoxicating haze of the flowers lifted, and Shoko and Suguru gradually returned to their senses. Their dreamy expressions transformed into confusion, and they jointly asked, "What just happened?"

"It's my ability! I can create a field of intoxicating flowers that will distract and, hopefully one day, subdue my opponent," you cheerfully explained, your newfound abilities a testament to your dedication and growth over the past year

Giggling as Shoko hugged you tight, she praised you, "Great job, my little [Name." Her laughter filling the warm summers air as she added, "Apparently, that idiot can actually teach, who would've thought?"

Satoru, annoyed by her playful jab, retorted quickly. The two of you shared a giggle, relishing the camaraderie. After slipping out of Shoko's hold, you made your way toward Suguru.

"Great job, [Name]," Suguru tenderly praised as he gently placed his hand atop your head. You flashed him a warm smile, feeling deeply grateful for the support from your friends.

"I couldn't have done any of this without you guys," you confessed, recognizing the integral role your friends played in your growth as a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

For a split second, you saw longing in Suguru's eyes. Concerned, you asked, "Are you okay, Suguru?" His blank gaze made you worry even more.

"Do you enjoy being a Jujutsu Sorcerer?" Suguru's quiet question hung in the air. His hand moved down, gently caressing your cheek before falling to his side. "Of course I do," you replied, concern evident in your tone as you met his gaze with your [e/c] eyes. "I'm able to learn and grow with all of you while helping those who are within my reach." You wanted to reassure him.

"You've lost weight. I know something's up. Talk to me," you tenderly offered, urging him to share his burdens.

"It's been extra hot out lately. I guess I'm just tired from the heat," Suguru softly answered. A wistful smile pulled at his lips before he turned to make his way back toward the dorms.

Your stomach twisted with knots as you watched him walk away, sensing that something was bothering your friend. Satoru couldn't help but notice the exchange between the two of you. His sharp eyes missed very little, and he had observed the conversation with a knowing look in his aquamarine irises.

As Suguru walked away, Satoru sauntered over to you with his usual swagger. "Something on Suguru's mind?" he inquired, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear, tone low and suggestive.

You sighed, your shoulders drooping as you glanced back in Suguru's direction. "I'm not sure. He's been acting strange lately, and I can't help but feel like he's hiding something. He said it's just the heat, but I don't think that's the real issue. Could you talk to him?”

Satoru, with a wry grin, responded, "Oh, don't you worry. I'll have a little chat with him. Suguru's a stubborn guy, but he can't resist the charm of yours truly."

His confidence was almost infectious, and you chuckled at his casual cockiness. "Thanks, Satoru. I appreciate it."

With that, he strolled away, headed in the direction Suguru had gone. You watched him for a moment before heading back towards the dorms, your mind filled with a mix of curiosity and concern.

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It was your first day alone in the medical sector, Shoko being away on a mission. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on your shoulders as you tried to maintain your composure.

As you prepared the metal table with a heavy heart, the room felt stifling. Shoko had taught you well, but today was a grim test of your abilities. The pale, lifeless figure of Haibara lay before you, a cruel reminder of the unforgiving world of curses.

Nanami, known for his calm and collected demeanor, had slumped into a chair, the loss of his best friend clearly shattering his composure. "Damn it, it was supposed to be a simple grade 2 curse..." his voice trembled with regret and anger. The weight of what had happened hung heavily on him, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sorrow for the man who had always been there to help you.

Suguru, too, bore a heavy heart.This loss had struck at the very core of your group, a stark reminder of the dangerous world you lived in. It was a somber moment, and as you prepared to do everything you could for your fallen comrade, a profound sadness settled over you all.

Your hands moved with a practiced precision as you began your work. As you operated, the memory of your younger brother, his kindness and innocence flashing before your eyes, creating a lump in your throat. You pushed your emotions aside, concentrating on piecing together what remained.

The room felt heavy with grief as you and Suguru worked together, covering Haibara with a white sheet. Suguru taking the initiative to gently suggest to Nanami, "Go get some rest, Nanami. Gojo is taking care of it."

Nanami, still overwhelmed by the loss of his friend, sighed heavily. "Why doesn't Gojo just take care of everything on his own? He's the strongest, after all."

As you washed your hands, you couldn't help but wonder to yourself, "Must he shoulder everything?" You knew Nanami’s words held no malice, but it left you wondering what being the strongest truly entailed in the world of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

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“After Geto's curse exorcism mission, there was no one left alive in the village. Evidence of Suguru's curse technique and its residuals were found at the scene. These disturbing events have led to him being labeled as a curse user, now facing execution.”

Yaga's grim revelation sent a shiver down your spine. You and Satoru exchanged incredulous glances. "What?" Satoru questioned, his voice filled with disbelief.

Yaga continued, "From the looks of it, his parents' home is also empty, and with the leftover remains we found, it appears he had done the same to them as the villagers." He concluded with a heavy sigh.

Your stomach coiled with dread, as you hurried down the hall and out of the doors, yearning for the solace of fresh air. It was hard to comprehend the shocking revelation about one of your most trusted friends. The information swirled chaotically in your mind, leaving you feeling uneasy, was it really the Suguru you knew who had committed such a heinous act?

The weight of everything that had transpired since your move to Japan suddenly bore down on you as you rushed back to your dorm room; found your running shoes, quickly changed, and headed to one of the parks Suguru had shown you on one of your off days. His words from that day echoing in your mind as you rushed there.

"The next time I come here, I'll have made my decision."

You were nearly out of breath as you raced around the expansive park, tall green trees surrounded you as their leaves blew peacefully in the wind.

"Hey [Name]," Suguru softly greeted as he approached you from behind. Tears welled up in your eyes; your friend looked so different from who you had come to know and love. His usual warm violet eyes were now dark and distant. Tears welled up in your eyes as you questioned him, "Did you really do it?"

The silence hung in the air for a moment before Suguru let out a heavy sigh, "It was me”

His confirmation sent fear coursing through your veins. Suguru had always been the voice of reason, the one who showed kindness even to those who didn't deserve it. You had looked up to him as a pillar of strength and morality, and now, that image was shattered.

“Your own parents? How could you, Suguru?" Your voice quivered, laced with a mix of disbelief and sorrow.

Suguru's eyes, once warm and kind, now seemed cold and distant. "I want to create a world of only Jujutsu Sorcerers. Those who can evolve and awaken their curse energy should survive, and those who can't... they don't belong. My parents couldn't be exceptions if I was going to make this a reality."

Your voice cracked as the painful memories rushed back. "You've seen how cruel and painful it is. I had to witness both my parents get murdered and endure near-fatal injuries to awaken my curse energy. How can you be so heartless, especially to your own parents?"

The park's serene surroundings felt like a surreal backdrop for this heart-wrenching conversation. Suguru's indifference contrasted sharply with the peaceful nature that surrounded you.

"To live in a world without curses... a world of true peace," Suguru began, attempting to rationalize his actions.

But you couldn't accept this justification. "I understand that our lives as Jujutsu Sorcerers are filled with pain and far from fair," you said, your voice steady, "but I've also seen human lives that endure their own forms of cruelty. It's not for us to pass judgment on the innocent. Our existence is simply the luck of the draw."

As your words hung in the air, it was clear that Suguru's path and your beliefs had irrevocably diverged.

"Please don't go," you tearfully pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. But Suguru had already turned his back to you, and he walked away, disappearing into the bustling city streets.

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Returning to campus as the sun began to set, you were greeted by Satoru as he waited for you by the gate. The two of you walked back toward your dorm in heavy silence, the weight of Suguru's defection pressing on your shoulders like an unbearable load.

Standing by your dorm room door, you turned to face Satoru, your eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. Tears welled up in your [e/c] eyes, and your voice quivered as you made a heartfelt promise. "Satoru, I promise... I'll bear the burdens that I can for you," you confessed, your voice heavy with the weight of the situation and your determination to support him. Tears streamed down your [s/t] cheeks, revealing the depth of your commitment.

Satoru's tender, teasing voice reached your ears. "You're such a crybaby, [Name]," he remarked as he gently wiped the tears from your face, his touch reassuring and affectionate. Then, he enveloped you in his arms, and your body instinctively relaxed into his embrace. In that moment, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you reciprocated by hugging him back, finding comfort in his closeness.

The warmth of your connection, the tears, and the shared pain all formed a powerful bond between you two. It was as though your hearts were intertwined, providing solace and understanding in the face of the overwhelming future that lay ahead.

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Hi loves! I hope you enjoyed this chapter,tell me what you think in the comments and thank you for all the love this story has received I’m overwhelmed but all the support!

As always, much love xoxo

ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ

#gojo angst #gojo x you #jujutsu geto #geto suguru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu satoru #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x poc reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #Fatefanficdelulus

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER III - ambience

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, sharp objects, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of death, overwhelming, violence, threats, drowning, gunshots

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 6,9K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II GAME OF GO CHAPTER IV

Ambience (n.) the strong urge to avoid someone or something

Her father was an intimidating man, or at least he wanted to be perceived as one. As a triad leader, he had a reputation to uphold. He needed to be feared. Despite being his firstborn, she was still a mere woman in his eyes.

There was a time when Y/N believed her father saw her to be more than just a woman. He had softened when her younger brother was born after she turned fifteen. Her brother’s name was Wang Bó Chéng, a name that carried the promise of great success. How poetic. 

According to the original plan, she would marry Yamamoto’s son, and her brother would inherit their father’s empire once he retired or passed away. However, the young kingpin had other plans. Yoongi would patiently wait for her father to make a mistake.

If you were to ask Y/N if she was loyal to her father, she would answer yes. If you were to ask her if she loved her father, she would say she loved him like she loved God — an entity she believed in but couldn’t see. At other times, this would be a devoted proclamation, but in her current situation, it was heartbreaking. 

The young leader believed God had led her down this path to him, and she strongly opposed His decision. Her faith was slowly fading, and all she could hear were the echoing cries in her head, tears of sorrow like a Lacrimosa.

“Tomorrow morning, we leave for Chosen. We’ll meet your father there,” said Yoongi when he returned to the garden. She had heard about the famous Chosen Hotel; there was no need for further explanation. The luxurious hotel served as a cover for his less legal activities.

“Can’t he come here?” She hugged herself, seeking more comfort. Yoongi approached her but didn’t take his previous seat.

“I don’t trust him enough to invite him to our home, sweetling,” he honestly admitted. This was his home, not headquarters. He had brought her to his home as his future wife, not a prisoner.

“What did he say?” she asked softly. She knew her father must be fuming, despite Yoongi’s attempts to fool him.

“He wants to see you. He wasn’t pleased that I proposed without his presence. He wanted to marry you off elsewhere—” he scoffed.

“—I had to persuade him that an alliance with our clan would be a better decision,” he spoke so openly. However, she remained guarded, not letting him deceive her.

“Apart from that, I’m hún dàn for halting his plans for you.” She couldn’t help but laugh. Her father could be quite amusing when he wasn’t behaving aggressively towards them. He had lighter sides and moments when she even smiled for him. All this was enough for her to cloud all the bad memories. ’Always remember the good ones’ her mother used to say, ’it will keep you sane’.

“I have work to do. Can I trust you enough to leave you in the garden?” he asked, his voice filled with seriousness. Can he? Let’s see. She simply nodded, and he stepped closer to her once again. He bowed down and planted a kiss on her hair, an endearing act of affection perhaps.

“Be good for me,” he said softly to her hair before leaving her alone in the garden. She wasn’t foolish enough to run immediately, even though the desire to do so burned within her.

An hour. That’s how long she waited, strolling the garden until she spotted a back door. Carefully, she requested a warmer blanket from a naive girl who had no inkling of her plans. She slipped the ring off her finger and dashed to the back door, slamming it open. She couldn’t risk running through the house to the front; that would be far too reckless.

As she stepped outside, she was surprised to find herself on a street. A few meters away stood a smaller hanok, next to it another, and another, forming what seemed to be a small village.

There was no turning back now. Guided by her heart rather than her brain, she chose to go left, as anyone would when faced with indecision, unknowingly altering her destiny once again.

The familiar sensation of fear and adrenaline flooded her veins as she desperately tried to find a way out of the maze. She dared not look back as she frantically searched for an escape route. So far, Y/N didn’t see anyone, and the sky was setting down. The sky was growing darker and darker every second, and there was no source of light anywhere apart from the homes she was surrounded by. Panic set in as she realized she was running out of time. Finally, she noticed a small opening in the wall and quickly squeezed through it, just as she heard someone call out her name. He knew. She knew she had to act swiftly.

She ran as fast as she could, her heart pounding in her chest. It was eerily quiet, too quiet even, only the sound of her heartbeat echoing in her ears. Y/N needed to find a place to hide and gather her thoughts.

Once again, she instinctively chose to go left, down the dark street. Doubts plagued her mind. Was this escape merely a trap? Did he already anticipate that she would try to flee? Her dress clung to her skin, just as it had when she crossed the borders a few days ago.

She stopped in some kind of courtyard, a little park perhaps, to catch her breath. Suddenly, she can hear footsteps and echoing laughter. Confused, she hesitated, unsure whether to stay or run.

The first one to spot her, from the couple walking in her direction, was the young girl that hitched and stammered, “Seokjin?” Her plea was barely audible. The doctor looked at his companion in confusion before following her gaze, locking eyes with Y/N. The Chinese girl’s heart sank as Seokjin sighed.

“I’ll be civil and will give you a minute before I have someone report your location,” he said, his tone deadly serious. Without hesitation, she ran as fast as she could.

“Aish—she is only going to end up broken to the core…” She heard his words like she would be still standing there, but she resolved in her mind that it wouldn’t happen today.

Another crack in the wall assured her that she might have a slight chance to flee unharmed. She skimmed through it, seeing no other hanoks, a smile and laughter of happiness escaping her lips.

The gunshot that landed just less than a meter away from her petite form put her joy on hold immediately. It couldn’t be. She had come so far in that vast maze of hanoks. The forest in front of her seemed inviting, but she knew that taking another step would provoke another bullet.

Y/N didn’t know how long it took her to get away nor how long it was till he got to know she vanished. It felt like minutes, but it might have been way more — the village was too large. He had brought her here because it was more difficult to escape. Now, she finally understood.

Y/N has to decide now. Would she run for her life, or surrender and avoid the fatal bullets that could strike her from behind? “God, I want to live, I promise—” whispered she. Another gunshot echoed, this one landing even closer. She screamed.

“Be careful, goddamn!” she heard someone yell in Korean. Was this her chance to escape? There was no time to decide. Her legs are already moving.

“Someone get her before she will get the bullets in!” Another yell. This one sounded frustrated, tired even.

“I can make it.” She declared, manifesting her freedom one more time. “I can.” Determined to succeed, blinded by the darkness, she didn’t hear or see another man approaching her running figure, until he tackled her to the ground.

“You’re one stubborn woman.” A voice she had heard before but couldn’t quite place.

“No!” she screamed, desperately kicking and punching the man that was now dragging her back to her limbo.

“Behave nicely, and just maybe he won’t slaughter anyone,” he warned her. ’Will he go on a killing spree?’ She wondered. ‘Will lives be lost because of her selfish desire for freedom?’ Only God knows if she will get her answers.

“Very kind of you to join me for dinner, Jagiya,” said the devil, his voice dripping with cruel and cold undertones of aggressive sarcasm. Y/N was forcefully thrown into a chair in the open room, overlooking the garden she had been occupying when she attempted to escape. 

There was an opening in a wall to enter the koi pond on which this room was atop. The lights were dim, but she could see his well-drawn face. The scar makes him beyond intimidating. 

She noticed a young maid kneeling next to the opening in the wall, her hands tied behind her back and tears streaming down her face, her mouth gagged with fabric. A pinch of anxiety and sadness stung her like a poisonous bee. This was not what she wanted. She whipped her head back to address the leader who never let his eyes leave her. Never again.

“Let her go,” Y/N venomously demanded. The leader smirked. “It wasn’t her fault—” she began.

“Oh, so she did not leave you alone, allowing you to fly away, my little dove,” he sang, his aura intensifying, causing her breathing to quicken and her heart to race.

“Deal with me,” said she. “Leave her out of this.” In her mind, she imagined grabbing the chopsticks laid out on the table for dinner and using them to wipe the grin off his face. But she could never bring herself to harm another person again. Even when it comes to him. A vulnerability within her.

“That’s not what I want to hear from you, pretty,” he replied. The young Kkangpae motioned his hand in command to the man standing next to the terrified girl. The man grabbed her and forced her into the koi pond. Y/N’s eyes reflected pure panic once she realized what is going to happen.

“Stop!” Y/N yelled as she tried to stand and rush towards them, but she was forcefully pushed back down into the chair.

“I’m waiting,” he taunted, clapping his hands together, instructing the man to submerge the poor girl in the water. The sound of raspy, wet gurgling sent chills down Y/N’s spine.

“Please stop!” she begged him. The girl struggled, kicking, and splashing, desperately fighting for her life. But the leader maintained an indifferent gaze, caring little for the girl’s fate. She let his fiancée escape.

“I don’t know what you want to hear!” she cried out. Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears. “Please let her go!” But he remained unmoved, patiently waiting for her to realise. She had to think quickly, or the young girl would die.

“Say it,” he urged, trying to coax the words out of her. Her eyes darted across his face, searching for a solution. And then it hit her. Há dún.

“I’m sorry…” she choked out, her voice trembling. Having his hands clasped together, pressed against his mouth, he smiled. He extended his hand, and the man pulled the girl out of the water just in the nick of time. Not a minute, seconds and she would have drowned. Y/N watched as the girl coughed and whispered her apologies.

“Thank God.” She prayed. What if she had her killed? The thought of that breach in her path terrified her.

“Next time, think twice—” For the first time, she felt enormous fear looking into his eyes. “—I won’t be so merciful.”

“You’re so lucky we’re not married, yet. Otherwise, I would have to discipline you more severely,” he spat at her sobbing figure. Y/N didn’t want other innocent people to be pulled into her mess. She hugged herself, shivering from the cold wind blowing through the open room and the water nearby.

The young leader sighed and pulled out a pack of Golden Bat cigarettes from his pocket alongside the velvet box that was hiding a ring she abandoned. Setting it in front of her with a loud thud that made her flinch. He gestured for her to take it as he lit his cigarette.

“If you take it off —” said he exhaling a cloud of smoke into the night air, “I’ll make sure you won’t be able to do so ever again.” His tone was cold, his gaze determined, piercing into her soul. He desperately wished to win her heart differently, but his methods had brought them to this point.

“So, where did you want to go exactly? To see your Sire? The cousin who betrayed you? Or are you still dreaming of sailing to the new world?” He mockingly mused aloud. She remained silent, allowing her tears to dry on her face.

“Your father is on his way to Seoul to negotiate with me. Now, I won’t let you go, and, as a matter of fact, I don’t mind putting a bullet right in between your daddy’s eyes.” Yoongi declared and Y/N stared at him with terror in her eyes. She knew very well what would happen to her family if her father was deceased. Slaves to whatever clan they would fall under. Her father has too many enemies around the whole of Asia.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Y/N won’t believe his words easily, desperately hoping he was bluffing, trying to get her to cooperate.

“Oh, I would. So, I suggest you’ll behave,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s the only rule you must follow Y/N. Obey or face the consequences, or next time it could be your little sister in the pond.” He took a drag from his cigarette, attempting to calm himself down. Y/N swallowed hard and shook her head, signaling her disagreement.

“Now, be a good girl and put the ring back on.”

Morning came sooner than she wished for. Her ears were concentrating on the sounds outside of the room that was providing her momentary salvation. He isn’t to be seen, at least not yet. Y/N slowly sat in the bed, pushing the thick blanket away. The room feels cold, the fire has gone out sometime in the middle of the night.

“Good morning, Buin.” Said new voice. Y/N fixated her eyes on a maid she had never seen before. ‘Has he killed the girl after all?’ She was worried. Who wouldn’t be. This maid seemed to be older, more mature.

“Is the girl alright?” Y/N didn’t think twice to ask. The maid ignored her questions, opening the window on her left side.

“Sajangnim is requesting you to have breakfast with him.” Said the maid, with a monotonous voice.

“Is the girl alright?” she asked again, slowly and more carefully. The maid stopped whatever she was doing.

“Yes, Min Buin,” said the maid. It got Y/N to see straight again. However, she couldn’t pardon her entitlement.

“I’m not Min as of yet.” She said, more intimidatingly than she wanted. The Chinese woman wants nothing else but other people to not fear her. She ain’t her father, or Yoongi. Such a soft name for such a cold calculating man.

“Sajangnim ordered us to call you either Missus Min or Buin—”

“There is no need to call me either, Y/N it is or if you insist, I’m still Wang.” Y/N responded to their statement that her abductor ridiculously requested. She made a mental note to make herself clear to him about such matters.

“I understand, Buin.” No, she doesn’t, thought Y/N. She will continue to blindly listen to that calculating bastard that is probably sipping coffee right now, soaping his hands for her.

 “Today is very cold outside, I suggest you pick more warm clothing, Buin.” The maid addressed her again. The end of October is too close. If she will be lucky, Y/N shall be a free woman by next year. She just needs to whip a plan, without hurting anyone. There is still a very little, tiny hope inside her.

Y/N spends a minute recalling his words about this place. That it is his home, she knew. But that the whole hanok maze she ran through yesterday is in fact home for the closest and highest members of his clan, she didn’t realise. Y/N’s family lived far away from other members of the clan. Her father wished so. In case of treason or attack, they would be safe, as no one, not a single soul knew where exactly Wang’s family home is. Y/N doesn’t presume that Min thinks only of himself and his greater good. He might be selfish himself but aren’t we all. Wang Zimò was the most selfish man she ever knew. Unfortunately for her, she inherited this selfishness and couldn’t stop thinking whether she should attempt to run so soon.

“Please don’t try to escape Buin—” The maid was interrupted by another one entering the room.

“Buin, Sajangnim sent me for you.” The elder woman said. Y/N dusted her now clothed form and took a deep breath.

“Very well.” Said Y/N and took a first step outside the room.

It was still very early in the morning and all she wanted to do was hide under blankets and never leave. That wasn’t an option for her, not anymore. She needs to breathe this anxiety out before she sits by the table with him again.

It must be really cold that they won’t eat outside, nor in the open outside room on the koi pond. She was glad for the change of surroundings as seeing the place where the girl almost died because of her, could only benefit him in breaking her fighting spirit.

“Well, well, look who decided to join us!” She heard Seokjin’s cheery voice, and she was not even in the room yet. Y/N swayed her hips, walking to the low chair that was left for her to sit in. Her long black qipao dress with golden details is caressing the contours of her form.

“Sweetling, you gave my lady quite a scare yesterday.” Said the doctor, sipping on his cup of coffee. Y/N never tasted coffee. Her father was strongly opposed to the foreign beverage and strongly preferred tea. ‘We’re Chinese’ he was beating his chest, proudly. And now she is with the Korean enemy that has been fighting Japan's Yakuza rule for years now. Perhaps, her little being will bring peace to the clans after all.

“You angered this fella really good.” He continued.

“Send my apologies to your lady, it wasn’t my intention to startle anyone.” She said softly while sitting down diagonally from her so-called husband to be.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked her, voice low, filled with a hint of concern.

“Did you?” her tone capturing her sass. She refused to let him off the hook easily, Y/N has a full right to be angry at him for dragging the poor girl into this mess. Y/N will take it with the pain if she has to, but no one should suffer at her cost.

“I would sleep better if you were next to me.” Backfire, his words catching her off guard. Y/N did not expect him to be so open in the company of another person.

“I’m not your wife,” her voice steady but laced with a hint of defiance.

“But you will be,” he said firmly.

Her brow furrowing as if deep in thought. “Will I—?” She mused, drawing out the uncertainty. “It comes to my knowledge that it ends with ‘I do—’”

“If I have to hold everyone at gunpoint for you to say those words, I will.”

Y/N’s gaze pierced through him, a mix of frustration. “So romantic,” she finally uttered, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“Well, aren’t you a lovely couple, you two.” Seokjin chimed in, sarcastically.

Y/N rolled her eyes, drinking her tea. “We have to depart very soon, so eat, dove.” Yoongi said, making her roll her eyes yet again. However, as she could practically hear her stomach, after skipping dinner — having no appetite — she was indeed happy to eat.

Y/N felt tears welling up inside as she sat down in the Cadillac next to him. A scarf tied tightly around her eyes prevented her from seeing the world outside his secluded little kingdom.

“I’ll take it off in a minute, don’t worry,” he reassured her. But what use was it to take it off for only a minute? Wouldn’t she be able to see the rest of the journey? Y/N tried to make sense of his intentions, and her understanding came when he removed the scarf.

Darkness surrounded her as the car engine roared and echoed loudly through the underground tunnels. She couldn’t see much, but she knew they had already made at least three turns, left and right, navigating yet another maze. Her mind raced, trying to comprehend the nature of the place he called home. As if reading her mind, he provided answers to her unspoken questions.

“We cannot live right under the enemy’s noses. Nobody knows how to get here or where this place is,” he explained. She understood why it is so, her own family home was well hidden – but not unreachable.

“I was in a forest once I got out of the village…I thought we were—” she said, deliberating out loud.

“You’re a smart woman, my love, but that’s not quite true, —” said he and even in the dark, she could see him smirk. “—least, partially,” he added.

“There are several mountains around Seoul — under one of which we are now, but I won’t disclose the exact location,” he revealed. Y/N’s thoughts began to piece together, desperately trying to determine their whereabouts. And then it hit her.

“No…” she uttered, quietly, realizing that if her deduction was correct, she would never be able to escape unless she climbed high walls or discovered the secret underground exit. Yoongi laughed, fully aware of her epiphany.

“Yes,” he confirmed simply.

They were in a hidden valley, nestled within the mountains, providing sanctuary for him and his family. “I hope this puts a halt to the master escape plan you were for sure cooking up,” he remarked with a touch of sarcasm.

‘Motherfucker’ she thought to herself. Even if she had decided to run to the forest that day, she would have only ended up at a dead end instead of finding freedom. A tear escaped her eye right when the car emerged from the tunnel reaching its surface, the light outside shining through the front glass. Y/N had no idea how far they were from Seoul or Incheon. For the first time in forever, she wished she wouldn’t run from Shenyang.

“Is there anything I should know about your father before we arrive?” Yoongi spoke after a minute of tense silence.

“I don’t think there is something you don’t already know,” she replied.

“I know what others may know but is there something specific you know as his daughter?” he rephrased his question, seeking a more coherent answer from her.

“Don’t be fooled,” said Y/N simply, only seconds before the buildings of the city came into view. The young leader furrowed his brows at her statement but quickly understood its significance.

This ornate architecture stood as a symbol of luxury and sophistication in a changing world. The intricately carved pillars and balconies, the glistening windows reflecting the golden rays of the last of autumn sun. Y/N marveled at the grandeur of the scene before her.

“I want to speak to him alone first. I shall call for you once we’re done,” the young leader was keeping his hand on the small of her back once they arrived at the reception of the Chosen Hotel that previously belonged to the Japanese Yakuza. It was only later after the First War that the ownership shifted to Mins.

The polished marble floors, the grand chandeliers illuminating the lobby, and the sound of footsteps echoing through the vast space. Y/N heard about this famous hotel and its westernised luxurious style that combined several cultures around the world. It wasn’t so different from the hanok he resided in, but his house felt more like a home than this. She could hate him all she wants; this she can’t deny. Despite her hatred for him, she couldn’t deny the enchantment his home evoked, especially with the surrounding nature.

Y/N nodded in response to his words. There was no point in starting another fight. He led her to another part of the hotel to wait. Just as she thought she would have a chance to explore and search for a breach in his security, her plotting came to an end when she saw a familiar figure sitting in what appeared to be a sunroom.

“Mā…” Y/N said softly, tears welling in her eyes once her vision settled on her.

“Be good,” Yoongi whispered in her ear and left them alone. She did not take another second standing there and eagerly ran to hug her mother.

“Oh mā,” she cried in her embrace, listening to her comforting heartbeat. 

“What were you thinking, my child?” Y/N’s mother said softly, lovingly caressing her hair.

“Mā, I didn’t know it would end up this way, I promise. I thought… I thought—” she stammered.

“I know my child. I know,” her mother reassured, understanding her feelings all too well. “You have to stand even stronger now.” After they sat down, her mother wiped away her tears.

“You are not marrying the prince any more. You’re marrying the king.” Any remaining hope Y/N had that her father might not agree to Yoongi’s proposition and refuse the marriage dissipated. She knew her fate was sealed, and she wondered if death was her only means of redemption and freedom.

“He is intimidating but so charming at the same time,” her mother remarked after a moment, giving Y/N time to process the harsh truth while she was touching the white smooth pearl necklace that hung around her neck.

“He could be a good husband,” she continued with the words Y/N never wanted to hear from her.

“Mā, he abducted me—” Y/N tried to argue. She couldn’t believe her mother’s approval.

“Weren’t you running away anyway, my dear?” the older female interjected.

“Is Father going to punish Chan-yeol and Daiyu, Mā?” she pleaded for answers. All of this was spinning in Y/N’s mind heavily. She couldn’t understand why they would betray her father and give her away to the enemy.

“He can’t —” her mother began, “Chan-yeol was never loyal to our triad, to begin with.” Her mother confirmed her fears, making her realise that seeking solace with them was a mistake that had unintended consequences.

“What about the deal with Tokyo? Won’t you be in danger, Mā?” She wasn’t curious, Y/N’s worry for her family was genuine.

“I don’t know much, darling, you know your father,” her mother replied, gently caressing her cheek.

“But as it comes to my understanding, leader Min has an offering for your father that may solve this issue.” Her mother picked up a cup of freshly brewed coffee, taking a careful sip.

“Ugh, this tastes even more disgusting than I remember,” she exclaimed, prompting genuine laughter from Y/N.

“I’m happy to see you laugh,” said a voice coming from the entrance to the sunroom. “Sir?” Said Y/N standing up, not sure how to address the man speaking to her.

“Park Jimin—” The man introduced himself to her and her mother politely. “I believe we have already met when we arrived, Mr Park.” Her mother said, smiling softly.

“Yes, indeed,” he replied, returning her smile. It seems that Jimin runs this hotel, as she discovered in their small talk before, he said words Y/N wished he wouldn’t.

“I shall escort you to our leader,” he said, smiling softly at her with a tinge of pity. Y/N wasn’t ready to see her father yet nor Yoongi. She could feel a knot forming in her stomach. Reluctantly, she hugged her mother tightly, not wanting to let her go.

“He is different, my child. You are no longer a princess-to-be; he shall make you his queen.” She whispered in her ear to eliminate the chance that Jimin would hear her. The older woman gazed into her daughter’s eyes one more time and said quietly.

“Be a queen.”

Polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft glow of the sun, casting a warm and inviting ambience. The air was filled with a faint aroma of cigarettes and hard liquor. A traditional screen, painted with scenes from nature, stood proudly against one wall. Soft rays of sunlight filtered through traditional hanji paper windows, casting gentle patterns on the room’s surfaces deep within the hotel. Y/N didn’t know how long they had been in the hotel, but it must have been right before lunchtime. The inhabitants of this living room were not a company she would voluntarily choose to be in.

Her father was seated with his back facing her, and on the other low cushion sofa, the young leader who just outsmarted the enemy. She could smell the cigarettes more intensively as she stepped closer. Yoongi smiled at her for a second, and once he saw Wang’s attention turn back to him again, he smirked.

“Y/N,” he said softly, encouraging her to sit with him. She needed a nudge from Jimin to make the steps toward him, sitting right next to him and facing her father. She stared directly into his eyes as the older male tried to read her and assess her demeanour.

“Who helped you?” her father broke into the silence. Y/N shook her head, smiling softly out of despair.

“Is this what you seek to know?” she replied with a tone he couldn’t recognise. Of course, she was the most rebellious child he had fathered, but he couldn’t overlook the change in her.

“Oh, I apologise. Are you alright my dear child?” he said mockingly, touching his heart. He did care about her, however he had never shown her the kind of love, to make her stronger. Or at least, that was Wang Zimò’s narrative of his truth.

The young leader carefully watched their interaction, sipping on his drink. “How long did you know?” her father asked her yet another ridiculous and ambiguous question.

“Know what exactly? I have no idea what you have in your mind,” she replied stoically, falling into her habit of speaking to her father this way. There was no use to argue with him.

“Are you playing stupid to protect someone?” said her father, smashing his drink to the conference table that divided them.

“She did not know, sir,” said a third party in the room, standing diagonally from her father. Kai. Her cousin. She did not expect him to be here.

“So, your mother did not reveal this wicked plan to her,” He spat out. ’Auntie?’ she thought in her head.

“What are you talking about?!” she raised her voice, an octave higher, drawing attention to her question. Her father laughed and scoffed in disbelief.

“My dear sister seemed to plot behind my back to marry you off to this bastard.” Yoongi only rolled his eyes at the insult thrown his way. In any other scenario, he would have his head. The young leader couldn’t do so. At least, not yet.

“I’m confused,” Y/N said, looking at all of them, searching for an explanation.

“She made a deal with him, and in exchange, you’re the peace offering to Min’s clan. She turned her back to Yamamoto’s without my knowledge,” her father explained angrily.

She would never marry that Tokyo boy. Her head started to spin. “Why wouldn’t she tell me…” she whispered, about to break down.

“If I knew she would abuse my love for her, I would never allow you to study and marry you off right away,” her father scoffed.

“You two were far too close to each other. Tell me the truth daughter, did you know?” he raised his voice at her, only forcing Y/N to shake her head yet again.

She’s not here anymore to explain it to her from point A to Z. Y/N was only instructed to run once her aunt rested her eyes for this lifetime. She only knew that with her aunt being gone, the arranged marriage to Yamamoto’s son would follow right away.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ echoed in her head, and she hoped that Yoongi remembered her words.

“Well—” her father clapped his hands, standing up “It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s said and done.” He moved closer to the fireplace, ready to approach his daughter.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ the voice in her head echoed again. “Are you alright, love?” Yoongi whispered to her. She shook her head in denial, trying to breathe but suddenly feeling suffocated.

“We’ll be on our way. The wedding ceremony will be held at our premises,” said her father, closing the distance between them and approaching her daughter.

“We’re leaving Y/N.” If she wasn’t confused enough, she was even more so now. Her mind was screaming inside.

‘Do not return to China’ her aunt’s words urged in her head. She knew it was a trap, if Yoongi would let her leave with her father, they would likely send soldiers the very next moment they would be out of the enemy’s territory. She warned her that her father wouldn’t give in without a fight. Perhaps, this is a trait she inherited too.

‘Don’t be fooled,’ she never prayed harder for him to realise what his father was doing. Damn the freedom, it could wait. By returning to China, she wouldn’t have a chance to escape again.

“We have not agreed on that. My fiancé will be staying with us,” the younger leader said coldly. Y/N looked at Kai with pleading eyes. Now or never. She stood up and ran towards Kai who expected her to pull such a stunt. Y/N never took it lying down.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get far, sadly. Her father grabbed her by her long hair in a tight grip, causing her to fall to her knees with a painful cry.

Y/N could hear the sound of guns being drawn too loudly. Panic overtook her body as everyone started screaming and aiming for each other’s heads. She was shredding inside. Y/N’s father didn’t release the grip on her hair, no matter how much she cried. The young leader wanted to murder him and paint the walls with his blood for touching her.

“Let her go, uncle,” she heard her cousin’s voice, which made her thoughts stop. Y/N could feel how her father tensed up when his kin put a gun to his head. She looked at Yoongi in confusion, tears in her eyes making her vision a little blurry.

“It was you! You fucking traitorous dog! You helped her!” her father screamed fanatically, his eyes wide and face red.

“You wretched little ungrateful rats!” her father screamed, tugging her closer to him. “I’m taking my daughter home, and once you come to your senses, we shall deal with the wedding.”

The leader didn’t lower his gun. “And I said, she is staying with me,” he stated, more determined than ever to keep his word. She could hear the music in her ears again as tears of sorrow streamed down her cheeks. Mourning herself.

‘Be a queen’ her mother’s words echoed in her head. She has to decide now.

‘God help me. I shall follow your testament if you help me one more time,’ she prayed. The shining silver blade lying on a stack of papers on the conference table caught her eye. The metal gleamed, reflecting the surrounding light. The blade, slim and graceful, tapered to a refined point.

‘Don’t be fooled.’

‘Be a queen.’

Voices screamed in her mind. She acted quickly, grabbing the sharp letter opener, and cutting her hair off right where her father’s hand was wrapped, holding them punishingly tightly, making contact with his knuckles.

Y/N felt her head freed from his grasp, and stood up quickly, stumbling into Yoongi’s awaiting form. A silence fell upon them all. Everyone stared with astonishment at the young mistress.

Wang Zimò was surprised too. Shocked even. He gazed at the black, soft hair that was still in his fist and slowly raised his eyes to his daughter and his enemy.

His daughter and his enemy.

“Is this your decision? You want to be a traitor?!” he said with venom in his words.

“I’m no traitor when my loyalty doesn’t lie with you anymore.” Y/N proclaimed, even though she knew it would only draw the young leader closer to her. He was indeed very proud of her at this moment — holding her with his free hand and covering her shaking body partially. Hearing her words, made him push her to his back even closer.

“Very well,” Wang Zimò seethed. He hated to lose, but he knew better than to start another fight right now. “I shall see you at the wedding, daughter,” he said coldly, letting her cut hair fall to the ground, and took the first steps towards the door.

“Kai let’s go. I shall deal with you at home.” He spat, not even looking back.

“You do not command me no more, uncle,” said Kai, standing his ground.

“What did you say?!” The elder Wang turned back to him.

“Mother’s dying wish was for me to stand with Y/N and Mins,” he said, not even looking into his eyes. Y/N’s breath hitched again. Now she understood Kai’s betrayal of her father. Firstly, when he helped her escape and now when he pointed his gun at his head for hurting her.

Her father was furious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. The dying wish was to be honoured by the family, no matter what. His sister had known exactly what she was doing in her lifetime and beyond.

He clenched his fist, his anger reverberating through the room as his knuckles collided with the nearby wall. The force of the impact made Y/N flinch within the firm grip of the young leader.

“I’m proud of you, daughter,” he unexpectedly said, his words hanging in the air, surprising everyone. Her father never uttered such words. Her eyes widened in disbelief. But his next words shattered any hope of genuine warmth.

“You escaped me and outsmarted me. I’m truly mesmerised by how you’ve finally grown to a person who can stand up to me,” his tone devoid of any affection.

“Shame you were born female,” he sneered, his words dripping with misogyny. Disgust flashed in her eyes as she stared at him.

“Will you outsmart and escape him?”

A question she doesn’t have an answer to.

A battle she had yet to fully think through.

I N T E R L O G U E

“You are a thorn in my side, Mr Min,” said the older man to the scarred leader of this territory. Yoongi stood by the window, a glass in his hand, his arm stretched out to touch the wall next to it. He was looking over at the Wongudan, the Temple of Heaven, which stood proudly just meters away from the hotel. A place he couldn’t wait to stand at the altar, tying the knot with his beloved.

“And I won’t be for much longer if you agree to my terms,” he positioned himself to face the Chinese triad leader.

“My own kin betrayed me. My sister,” the older male said in disbelief, as if he were talking more to himself than to Yoongi.

“Your sister was a very wise woman. She knew that this was the better option.”

“You slaughtered my men—”

“And you slaughtered mine. My father within them, may I add,” Yoongi interjected, growing angrier with each passing moment. He felt the pain in his chest, remembering the day his father passed away.

“I have every reason to kill you and your clan—”

“Y/N is part of our clan too, boy,” he retorted, attempting to ridicule him. Wang Zemo could not oversee the young leader’s affections towards his daughter. From the way he spoke about her to the visible tense of his body once her name was uttered.

“That would change sooner or later,” said Yoongi, his determination shining through yet again.

“She is hard to manage. Are you sure you want a wife who will constantly challenge you?” He pushed his round eyeglasses up.

“I have my ways to humble her,” he replied, knowing well that he would have to assert his authority to make her a fine wife. A loving one, perhaps, in time. She had been allowed to spread her wings too far for his liking, encouraging her to disobey any authority, not just him.

“You must have been in my sister’s favour when she gave you Y/N, knowing that she was betraying her clan.”

“Or saving you, Mr Wang. Her ulterior motive was to save your clan—”

“That could have been ensured in the treaty with Yamamotos.”

“Do you really think that would work out? They’re Japanese, too proud to be the ruling country.”

“—not for much longer. Least according to your master plan, you made with my beloved sister.” he said, mocking the entire situation.

The young leader remembered and strongly believed the words of the older female that loved his bride so dearly. She would never do anything that would hurt her, and he wished Y/N will understand that and come along once she will get the know the truth.

“If a single thing goes wrong in your little plan, Mr Min, you’re as good as dead.”

“The same goes for you, Mr Wang,” Yoongi replied, his voice filled with unwavering resolve.

to be continued

author’s note: uf, I hope you had some time to process the two previous chapters in and I promise I'll let you breathe out before I'll throw chapter four at ya ♥

Thank you so much for any comment, reblog or simply showing love to this fic. It means the world to me ♥ Let's join a hate train for Y/N's father together, he makes Yoongi look like the good guy here, whatcha think?

Also I tried to add everyone who asked to the tag list, and if you want to be in too or you ain't tagged properly, comment or dm ♥ For some undisclosed reason, I cannot tagg few accounts, if someone knows why, pls hit me up.

Sending a big shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta reading this chapter!

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @beautifulcloudfestival @chaoticpuff17 @honsoolgloss @jingerbreadoutofstock @moscow778 @januara26 @dinosolecito @yoongislatinagff @xyahrinx @hi12345567 @nochuel @deltamoon666 @bbkissme99 @darkuni63 @nansasa @sazsazsaz @missmin @strxwbloody @royallyjjk @jaiuneamesolitaiire @shadowyjellyfishfest @bbgniecyy @elayne321 @seojunandsoju @bun-27 @whipwhoops @wobblewobble822 @haneyyy @whofan88

©pennyellee. please do not repost

#bts #bts fic #yandere yoongi #yandere bts #yandere namjoon #soft yandere #mafia au #yandere seokjin #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #hard yandere #yandere #yandere kpop #yandere taehyung #mafia bts #lacrimosa #myg angst #dark!yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #bts x you #yoongi smut #haegeum #suga x you #suga x y/n #suga x reader #historical au #bts historical au #bts yandere au #fic:lacrimosa

[iamfitzwilliamdarcy]

the narrative implies more than once that if not for the madness of Denethor, Gandalf may have saved Theoden

“For a moment, the thought flitted through Merry’s mind: ‘Where is Gandalf? Is he not here? Could he have not saved the king and Eowyn?”

and later-

Pippin comes to Gandalf and tells him he’s afraid Denethor might kill himself and Faramir with him and Gandalf says at first “I must go...the Black Rider is abroad, and he will yet bring ruin on us. I have no time”

Pippin explains further and pleads, “Can’t you save Faramir?” And Gandalf’s response is- “Maybe I can...but if I do, others will die, I fear.” 

And after the Dark Rider has died and he brings Faramir to the Hall of Healing and sees Eowyn, Gandalf says:

“... Things of great sorrow and renown have come to pass. Shall we weep or be glad? Beyond hope the Captain of our foes has been destroyed, and you have learned the echo of his last despair. But he has not gone without woe and bitter lost. And that I might have averted but for the madness of Denethor!” 

#denethor #theoden #gandalf #lotr #tolkien #lord of the rings

[princess-ibri]

King Magnifico Backstory Part 3

Part 2

On the Princesses 18th birthday, a strange messenger came to the castle, with a desperate plea.

"Princess Maroula, my mistress, the Keeper of the Wishing Stars, who granted both you and your father life, needs your aid. There is a quest that only one such as you can fulfill. A dangerous quest but a necessary one for the good of all people within this world and the EverRealm. She has done what she can herself, but her gaze is stretched thin by her obligations. We ask that you leave as soon as possible, if you are willing to come and aid us.”

And the princess, always kind of heart, and remembering the conversation in the garden all those years ago was willing

But her father was not.

“How dare your mistress ask this dangerous task of my daughter! She knows the perils that exist in that realm, that befell me. She did nothing to aid me in my troubles, why should she ask to place my daughter in peril now?”

“The Blue Lady is young, in the way of her people, she had only recently taken over this charge when your misfortunes befell you, and she has sorrowed over them ever since. She granted you your daughter in part as penance for that failure. But still she has her duties, and she has foreseen a threat that only as deeply linked to Wishes as Maroula is can combat. Would you see an entire realm suffer for what was done to you?”

Maroula knew the anger born from his past heartache, which her father usually tried to keep under control, beginning to rise, and tried to sooth him

“Father, I am willing to go. You and Mother have taught me well in both the use of magic and the need to be generous in helping others. Please, let me go and help the Lady. How can I call myself a princess of Rosas and not do so?”

“No Maroula!” The King cried, his fear for his daughter and anger getting the best of him. “I won’t allow it! What right has this fairy to grant my greatest wish, give our happiness tangibility and then take it away!”

“She’s not taking me away Father, she’s only asking that I—“

“Enough!”

The king turned and dismissed the messenger coldly from his sight, demanding that it never return, for his daughter would not be going to the other realm, now or ever.

“That choice is the Princess Maroula’s.” The messenger said as it left, unfazed by the king’s anger. “She is a woman grown now, able to make her own choices, even if they are not what you would choose for her. If she wishes to go, then she may go”

“Then I shall insure she cannot!”

And with that, the king used his magics to open up a room, deep deep beneath the castle, a room he had discovered upon taking claim of the castle, (a room where he had found a dangerous and deceptive tome of magic). Here he wove about with his spells and enchantments so that he was sure no star’s light could find his daughter.

“I don’t wish to leave you here Maroula, but I must keep you safe, at all costs. Let that other place deal with its own problems. You will stay here until you’ve learned to see sense”

And so the king left his daughter crying in the dark, as his gentle queen cried in the palace above, torn between supporting her husband in keeping their daughter safe from unknown danger, and supporting her daughter’s generous wish to help

What neither realized, is that there was one small opening within the dungeon, a keyhole that the king had failed to account for, a keyhole through which a single thin strain of starlight came through and found the weeping princess. The princess beheld the light, and taking the power within her, she wished upon the star

And the star answered

But what came after for Princess Maroula is a story for another time…

The king and queen sought day and night for their daughter, but even with all his powers, either the power of the Lady of the Wishing Stars was greater, or Maroula was using her own to avoid her father’s search. Even his wishing her back did nothing. And so the king and queen fell into despair, knowing their daughter was lost forever.

Is this the thanks I get for granting everyone else’s wishes all these years? To have my own daughter run from me? I’ve cared for her from the day she was born, given her everything and and she still decides to defy and disrespect me with this rebellion?!”

At last, the king, letting his anger over this perceived betrayal overcome his grief, decided that they could no longer go on as they had, and so he crafted a spell that would enable them to move forward

He asked his wife to give to him her wish for their daughter’s return, gifting it to him to hold onto until it could be granted. And as Amaya gave him her wish, trusting that one day it would come true—the memory of her daughter left her entirely, along with the grief of her loss. Letting her forget without the weight of regret…

From then on, the king utilized this spell whenever it came time to grant his people’s wishes, holding on to them in perpetuity, instead of granting them on sight. Having lost the love of his daughter, he tried to substitute it with the love he felt imbibed in each wish as he guarded them, keeping them safe as he couldn’t protect her. Each person who gave him their wish forgot it, and so Magnifico intended to ensure that not only would no unworthy wish be granted, but no wish would lead to the heartbreak he had suffered

Despite his anger at his daughter, over the years he took many other apprentices, seeking to fill the void she had left, even granting their and their families wishes when he usually would have declined to—but none of them ever filled the place of his beloved Maroula.

And as the years passed, his anger over her loss, the heartbreak of his past, and his frustration over watching everyone’s wishes be granted but his own began to harden the king’s heart, and a darkness grew beneath his pristine exterior, waiting for the day until he felt threatened enough in his power and control to break loose…

#my art #and that’s a wrap for the backstory! #definitely intend to do a wish sequel idea where Asha and Starboy try to figure out what happened to Maroula #anyway both of Magnifico’s song just gave me dad energy right off the bat #both protective energy in At All Costs (along with an almost addictied to the wishes vibe? #which I also kind of tried to hint at with him feeling the love that comes from granting a wish and mistaking that forhis ‘parents’ love #and later hoarding them) #and of course a narcissistic dad in This is the Thanks I get #so I knew I had to give him a daughter for Asha to remind him of #also the dark bunny messenger is from the Fairy with the Torquise Hair in Pinocchio having black bunny servants! #cuz that’s Blue’s mom in the DisneyVerse #king magnifico #disney wish #wish 2023 #magnifico x amaya #the blue fairy #Maroula #disneyverse #canon descendants #Disney ocs #disney descendants #disney #wish movie #disney headcanons #queen amaya #villain backstory #disney villains

[calliesmemes]

A HOME FOR THE HEART

ASSORTED QUOTES PULLED FROM TUMBLR POSTS, PINTEREST POSTS, AND SONGS.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Half of seeming clever is learning when to keep your mouth shut. ”

“   I don’t understand … what exactly are you doing? ”

“   Fun isn’t something I’m particularly familiar with. ”

“   I will be gentle with your heart — I promise. ”

“   You are the finest, loveliest, tenderest, and most beautiful person I have ever known. ”

“   If we beat ourselves up after a mistake, we add shame onto the guilt and frustration that we already feel about our mistake. ”

“   Your pain is safe with me and I will stay with you longer than your sorrows if you let me. ”

“   I am broken, and full of contradictions. ”

“   We cannot afford avoiding the fight for growth and understanding, even when that fight is as painful as it’s bound to be. ”

“   At the moment, I am quite busy tearing down who I once was. ”

“   You have to challenge yourself, and keep learning new things. ”

“   I implore you — it’s time to come back from the dark. ”

“   You’re dangerous, but you lack ambition. ”

“   I became good at pretending. I became so good that after a while the lines blurred between my truth and fiction. I even fooled myself. ”

“   You will miss so much by being guarded. ”

“   What is destructive is impatience, haste, expecting too much too fast. ”

“   I know what it feels like to lose someone you love. ”

“   By all means break the rules, and break them beautifully and deliberately and well. ”

“   We can't do whatever we want. There are ways we have to act. There are things we have to say. But we can think whatever we want. ”

“   I think I love nearly everyone I have ever met. ”

“   It is the destiny of stars to collapse. ”

“   I belong to you. ”

“   What I was before wasn’t good for me. ”

“   Leave me to my own absurdity. ”

“   I have such trust in you, my heart. My dear, dear heart. ”

“   I’m restless and harsh and despairing. ”

“   You can be better than this. ”

“   I am not arrogant; I simply know my place. It’s quite far above yours. ”

“   Should I regret what I became, or should I regret what I didn’t become? ”

“   You are too nostalgic; you want memory to secure you, console you. ”

“   I am afraid to experience what I don’t understand — I always want the guarantee of at least thinking that I understand. ”

“   My heart is too good to be silent. ”

“   The quiet of the night is astonishingly beautiful. ”

“   When a person tells you that you hurt them, you don’t get to decide that you didn’t. ”

“   I knew who I was this morning, but I’ve changed a few times since then. ”

“   It’s frightening that there’s no guarantee you’ll be loved. ”

“   I think too deeply about everything. I still don’t know if that allows me to see more of the world, or less of it. ”

“   The truth is messy. It's raw and uncomfortable. You can't blame people for preferring lies. ”

“   See, forgiveness doesn't happen all at once. It's not an event―it's a process. ”

“   You must walk alone to find your soul. ”

“   I like flaws. I think they make things interesting. ”

“   People can easily forget that others are human. ”

“   By one act, I have ruined everything. ”

“   My bloodline is irrelevant to my value. ”

“   Everyone says forgiveness is a lovely idea, until they have something that they need to forgive. ”

“   Who are you to judge me? ”

“   Poets — they can be soldiers, too. ”

“   I’m afraid to let go. ”

“   People can’t feel truly loved if they don’t feel seen for who they truly are. ”

“   Grief always grows back. ”

“   Maybe lying is itself a kind of art. ”

“   What thing worthy of love can be found in me? ”

“   I don't know anything anymore. Is that normal? Is it normal for someone to just go blank? ”

“   This was always going to happen. ”

“   I found with you a life force that I thought I’d lost. ”

“   I fear I will be ripped open and found unsightly. ”

“   We cannot simply sit and stare at our wounds forever. ”

“   If a poem hasn’t ripped apart your soul, you haven’t experienced poetry. ”

“   My life has changed, and I’m changing with it. ”

“   Things are sweeter when they’re lost. ”

“   How foolish we are to believe that we are more powerful than the sea or the sky. ”

“   Grief is really just love. It’s all the love that you want to give, but cannot. ”

“   They think that I’m purely decorative, and they’re fools for not knowing better. ”

“   Isolation is a way to know ourselves. ”

“   How many people am I? Who am I? ”

“   I learned a lot about being a friend when I was alone. ”

“   Stories make us more alive, more human, more courageous, more loving. ”

“   I love you, but I cannot survive you. ”

“   Shame keeps us stuck. It’s a paralyzing emotion. ”

“   I am, at present, wrestling with my own private angels. ”

“   You’re looking for this wonderful thing that you may never get. ”

“   If nothing saves us from death, at least love should save us from life. ”

“   Come on; dance with me. ”

“   If it’s darkness we’re having, let it be extravagant. ”

“   You don't always need to be getting stuff done. Sometimes it's perfectly okay, and absolutely necessary, to shut down and do nothing. ”

“   What would you ask for, if you knew that the answer would be yes? ”

“   Love is also a violence, and it cannot be undone. ”

“   Some things are more precious because they don’t last long. ”

“   You are afraid to die, and you are afraid to live. ”

“   I do understand — and it is terrible. ”

“   How do you become so empty? Who takes everything out of you? ”

“   I can’t abandon the person that I used to be. ”

“   Strength is what I want. Strength not to endure, I have that and it has made me weak — but strength to act. ”

“   I want everything back the way it was. But there is no point, this wanting. ”

“   My guilt will not purify me. ”

“   I guess I thought that by now, I’d be done with shame. ”

“   My father and I are more alike than I’d care to admit. ”

“   I am not asking. I’m begging — please. ”

“   It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore. ”

“   You people do not understand me, and I am afraid that you never will. ”

“   Endure what you deserve. ”

“   I pity the dark life that you live. ”

“   Don’t be the sort of person who needs to be held. ”

“   I am beginning to despair and can only see two choices: go mad, or go holy. ”

“   We are enemies linked together. ”

“   What lived and died between us haunts me still. ”

“   Betrayal already points to love. You can’t betray an acquaintance. ”

“   The dead only return for love or for revenge. Which did you come back for? ”

“   Every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered. ”

“   How can I ask anyone to love me, when all I can do is beg to be left alone? ”

“   If I didn’t think, I’d be much happier. ”

“   We are nothing more or less than what we choose to reveal. ”

“   How dangerous to finally have something worth losing. ”

“   Peace was never an option. ”

“   I will not water myself down to make my suffering more digestible for you! ”

“   Talent is insignificant. I know a lot of talented ruins. ”

“   Beyond a certain point, there is no return. ”

“   Anger is hard to ignore. ”

“   It is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire. ”

“   Broken girls blossom into warriors. ”

“   I don’t know if I believe in rage as something always acting in opposition to tenderness. I believe, more often, in the two as braided together. ”

“   But it was too much. All of it was too much. ”

“   Time just gets away from us. ”

“   I’d rather live with a tender heart, because that is the key to feeling the beat of all the other hearts. ”

“   I’m afraid he’s going to hurt me. ”

“   The core of me is untouched. ”

“   I must have been very hard for him to love. ”

“   I understand now that I'm not a mess, but a deeply feeling person in a messy world. ”

“   Why couldn't people's insides match their outsides? The world would be such a wonderful place if the nicer someone was, the more beautiful they became. ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #rpc help

[farity]

Sorrow, part 4

Aemond extended a hand, and for a few moments as she stood still, he feared that Elyse would run off instead.

He saw her turn to the maid and ask for help removing his cloak, and then she walked to him and once again placed her hand on his.

"Begin," he said to the Septon, and rubbed gentle circles on the back of her hand.

Her eyes never left his, not when they both said the words, not when the Septon proclaimed them husband and wife, and only closed when he leaned in to brush his lips against hers. Her hands tightened on his then, and loosened again when he pulled back.

She thanked the Septon and when he and the maid had left, she turned to him.

"Why?"

Aemond stopped, and turned to face her. "Did you wish to go back to your family?"

"No," she said immediately. "They would have just sold me to the next old man with two coins to rub together."

"I know I should have probably asked," he said as he took her hand and began walking toward the keep. "But I feared if we did not act soon, you might have been sent away from here."

She stopped, tugging on his hand. "Back to . . . to . . . ?"

"No," he said quickly, but then realized he didn't really know. "I don't know."

Her little nails dug into his palm and she stared up at him. "You must promise me something. As my husband."

He waited, watching anger, despair, fear, crossing her features.

"If I am to be sent back to that hell, you must kill me before it happens."

Aemond said nothing, the need to pull her to him and assure her that no such thing would happen tamped down by the fact that he knew well that between his mother and his grandfather, they could make it happen.

"Promise me," she whispered.

"Elyse, I can't take your life."

She gripped his other hand. "I will be dead anyway," she smiled sadly. "But you can give me a quick death instead of the years of sorrow that await me there."

He could almost taste her desperation, and this time, he did pull her to him, feeling her stiffen when his arms went around her, her hands fisted between them.

"I did not marry you just to lose you," he said softly. "I will slay anyone who attempts to harm you, I will take you away." He was threading his fingers through her hair, soothing her like a child, and his words, which so often were thought clever, were not enough for him in that moment.

Slowly he felt her soften against him, and then she looked up at him. "Will you ever tell me why?"

He smiled bitterly. "Once, my impulses led to another's death. This time, I thought they might help someone."

When she said nothing, those haunted eyes still on his, he added, "I don't know why. I saw you weeping in your chapel, thanking the gods and I knew terrible things had happened. Then I saw your horror when that man said he was marrying you. My gods-damned impulse took over."

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Not for one moment. I will not hurt you. I will not allow anyone to cause you harm. I will do my best to keep you safe."

He watched her as she studied him, her scrutiny one of someone who has been told many lies before.

"I believe you."

* * * * *

Otto Hightower was waiting for his grandson and the girl he'd so rashly married. He'd heard about the septon leaving his residence very early and with what Alicent had told him, he knew in an instant what was about to happen.

The soldier he'd sent to stop the hastily arranged wedding had arrived at the garden as the couple kissed, and had immediately turned back, still unseen.

He saw the two young people turning toward the keep and clasped his hands behind his back. Aemond, of all people. No wonder Alicent was so disappointed and angry. He was the one she was closest to and the one who understood loyalty the most. Or so Otto had thought.

"Grandfather."

Otto stared at Aemond.

"May I present my wife, Princess Elyse."

His eyes stayed on Aemond's for a few seconds, but he looked at Elyse and bowed to her. "Princess."

As Aemond began to lead Elyse into the keep, Otto stepped forward. "I would speak to you, grandson."

"You may speak right now," Aemond said smoothly, "although you may first wish to deal with your errand boy for not completing his mission."

Elyse looked up at her new husband, noticing the smirk on his face, and then at Ser Otto, whose jaw tightened. The familiar fear coursed through her, but her hand was linked through Aemond's arm and she felt that most rare of feelings, safety, around him.

Otto tilted his head and turned to go to his study, and Aemond looked down at Elyse. "Come, wife, it shall be the first of many conversations we shall have today."

He'd called her wife when Ser Otto was clearly displeased - who wasn't? - and she nodded, but she did not know what he'd meant by the errand boy, although anyone who didn't do what Ser Otto wanted them to should probably be fleeing for their lives right now.

* * * * *

"Princess Elyse," Otto began, "surely you can see how this is a most incorrect and unbecoming way of doing things. Prince Aemond will marry for-"

"I have married, grandfather, and you are correct in calling my wife Princess Elyse, for she is one now and shall be until the end of her days. Her family is of an old and noble lineage, which cannot be incorrect or unbecoming, and the ceremony was performed by a Septon of the keep with a witness." Aemond smiled. "Or two."

Otto leaned back in his chair, and looked back at Elyse. "Are you with child?"

Elyse paled, and Otto leaned forward. "No, Ser Otto."

"You shall not hide it for long if you are, unless you mean to get rid of it."

Aemond stood. "Now this is incorrect and unbecoming, grandfather."

"Why?" Otto smiled, and Elyse shivered at the reptilian expression in his face. "If she is pregnant and wishes to pass off the babe as yours, it is something we will-"

"I am not pregnant," Elyse said, her breathing unsteady as she looked up at Aemond. "I swear it."

"Do not trouble yourself with these questions, wife, for now we take our leave of this most incorrect and unbecoming conversation." He nodded at his grandfather and put his hand out to Elyse.

He led her out of Otto's study before the anger he felt could unleash. From everything he'd observed, it would only succeed in terrifying his new wife.

She was silent as they walked down the corridors but once in his rooms, she let go of his hand and turned to face him. "I am not with child, Aemond."

"You do not need to say it again, Elyse, I believe you."

She looked at him for a moment, the sound of her name on his lips calming her nerves just a little. "But there are things you should know."

* * * * *

Aemond awoke to the sounds of screaming, just as his servant rushed into his room. "Prince Aemond, it is the Princess."

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he ran to the room adjoining his, and saw her, so small amidst the bed coverings, shaking as her maid tried to sooth her.

"Elyse," he said gently, but she did not hear him.

He did not wish to frighten her even more, so he walked to the end of her bed, reining in his impulse to take her in his arms, and measured each step until he was near her. "Elyse."

She looked up to him then, and he sat on the edge of the bed as her eyes focused on him.

"You are safe here," he added.

"I came to her as soon as I heard her, Your Highness," the maid said, rubbing Elyse's arms.

"Thank you," he said, his eye not leaving the terrified face of his wife. "Do you wish me to leave?"

She shook her head.

He nodded.

"May I bring you some tea, Princess?"

She turned to her maid as if seeing the young girl for the first time. "Yes," she whispered, and the girl left.

Aemond extended his hand to her and was rewarded with a small smile and her cold fingers on his palm. He moved up the bed and wrapped an arm around her. "I'm sorry you had a nightmare."

She turned to him and placed a hand on his chest before she realized he was only wearing sleep pants. She pulled her hand away but curled herself against him, letting his warmth envelop her.

"I hadn't had one in a few days."

"Maybe talking about it brought it all back," he said, speaking from experience. How many times had he woken up covered in cold sweat after seeing Vhagar kill both Arrax and Lucerys in his dreams?

She let out a breath. "I am sorry," she began. "This must not be how you envisioned your wedding night."

Her words put images in his head and he ruthlessly pushed them away. "I meant what I said. We need not consummate the marriage until you are ready. It changes nothing. You are my wife, by choice and by law."

He was so warm, and felt so good as he held her, and Elyse, who had never learned what desire was through the years of marriage and grief, felt something new inside of her.

Aemond felt her muscles slowly loosen up and allowed himself to kiss the top of her head. He had yet to fully examine what she had told him earlier, and had gone to sleep with the ember of anger burning in his chest.

He'd managed to avoid his mother and grandsire the rest of the day, always keeping Elyse with him. Helaena had given her some of her embroidery materials and he'd found his wife making almost invisible marks on the delicate fabric, stepping back to survey her work before going back to adding more marks.

When the maid returned with the tea, she found Aemond sitting on the bed, asleep with his back against the headboard, and Elyse sleeping in his arms.

They made a handsome pair, the maid thought, although the princess needed to eat more. Her shoulders were so thin and she was so pale. But she had golden hair and pretty eyes, and she seemed so sweet. And the prince, well didn't he look very fine bare chested, holding his wife. The noble ladies might turn their heads from his eye patch but the maids knew better. For once, he didn't go around pinching their bottoms like the young king. They all fought to go around the corridors surrounding the training grounds just to catch a glimpse of his silver hair flying as he worked every day. They had heard from a Baratheon servant that he had been meant to marry one of the daughters, but he looked very much at ease now, didn't he?

Whatever bothered the princess so much, the maid thought, had to be truly awful.

The maid placed the tea on the table near the bed and left to go to sleep. They were having guests tomorrow and she had much to do.

#hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd smut #aemond x oc

[dez78]

You're not alone

-------------------------------

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Summary: Your dark thoughts take over, but your companions surprise you.

Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt to Comfort, Found Family trope.

A/N: This is for awareness. To let people know that feel this way are never alone.

---------------------------------------

You were curled up in your bedroll, the anguish and distress were agonizing as you fought the battle in your head. You tossed and turned; it was almost physically painful in your chest.

Your tears were staining your cheeks already, your nose dripping with snot. You were truly hurt. It came to you suddenly, like it usually did. You had never felt so useless, so hopeless, so disconnected from reality.

You clutched your chest; your heart was irregular as you sobbed to yourself. Trying your best to be quiet, you didn't want to disturb the camp and be bothersome to your companions outside. Your cries of despair were full of sorrow. It hurt to even think.

You hid your mental state from your companions because you thought you weren't important enough to care for, especially at this very second. You didn't want them to burden your issues, they were your own to deal with anyway. Like they always have been.

Your face stung from your tears, they poured from your eyes. Your under eyes burned as you cried harder. The rawness in your throat clawed its way out in anguished cries and silent pleas. The pain ripped through you like an excruciating tornado.

You prayed to every god you knew, calling upon them to take your pain away, you couldn't stand it. It was too much to bear.

"Please, I don't want to be alone anymore." You sobbed profusely, running your hands across your face in a desperate attempt to stop the flooding tears.

You never heard your tent part open, you only looked up when you felt footsteps, then someone sat by you.

Your vision cleared and you made out Astarion, he looked down at you with sincerity as he brushed your hair from your wet face.

"You're not alone, darling." He cooed at you softly, caressing your face.

"You never were." Gale added.

You looked towards the tent entrance and saw the rest of your companions. You sniffled harshly; you must have looked horrible.

They all sat down by you, surrounding.

"You're not alone in this, Soldier. We got you." Karlach smiled softly as she patted your leg.

"You could have told us, you know." Shadowheart commented.

"And before you say, you didn't want to be bothersome. It's impossible, we're your friends. We're always going to be here for you." Wyll explained as he smiled at you genuinely.

"Human emotions are lost on me, but I can offer a good fight to take your mind off your thoughts." Lae'Zel suggested.

As you lay here now, your pain you felt merely moments ago was gone like it never existed. You smiled, actually smiled, not the fake one you wear to please others.

You realized; you were loved by your found family. They did care and that meant the world to you.

#baldurs gate shadowheart #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #baldurs gate tav #tav #astarion #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate gale #lae'zel #bg3 wyll #wyll ravengard #karlach #angst #hurt to comfort #found family #bg3 #you're not alone #baldur's gate x reader #baldur's gate x you

[baneshifts]

Do not try to make yourself happy, rather question your very search for happiness.

how desires and fears creates bondage.

It is because you are not happy that you want to be happy. Find out why you are unhappy. Because you are not happy you seek happiness in pleasure; pleasure brings in pain and therefore you call it worldly; you then long for some other pleasure, without pain, which you call divine. In reality, pleasure is but a respite from pain.

The very desire to live is the messanger of death, as the longing to be happy is the outline of sorrow. The world is an ocean of pain and fear, of anxiety and despair. Pleasures are like the fishes, few and swift, rarely come, quickly gone. A man of low intelligence believes, against all evidence, that he is an exception and that the world owes him happiness. But the world cannot give what it does not have; unreal to the core, it is of no use for real happiness. It cannot be otherwise. We seek the real because we are unhappy with the unreal. Happiness is our real nature and we shall never rest until we find it.

Momentary relief from pain we call pleasure - and we build castles in the air hoping for endless pleasure which we call happiness.

It is all misunderstanding.

You are like a child with a lollypop in its mouth. You may feel happy for a moment by being totally self-centered, but it is enough to have a good look at human faces to perceive the universality of suffering. Even your own happiness is so vulnerable and short-lived, at the mercy of a bank-crash, or a stomach ulcer. It is just a moment of respite, a mere gap between two sorrows. Real happiness is not vulnerable, because it does not depend on circumstances.

Pleasure depends on things, happiness does not. As long as we believe that we need things to make us happy, we shall also believe that in their absence we must be miserable. Mind always shapes itself according to its beliefs. Hence the importance of convincing oneself that one need not be prodded into happiness; that, on the contrary, pleasure is a distraction and a nuisance, for it merely increases the false conviction that one needs to have and do things to be happy, when in reality it is just the opposite. But why talk of happiness at all? You do not think of happiness except when you are unhappy. A man who says "Now I am happy" is between two sorrows, past and future. This happiness is mere excitement caused by relief from pain.

Real happiness is utterly unselfconscious. It is best expressed negatively as: "there is nothing wrong with me, I have nothing to worry about".

Once you have grasped the truth that the world is full of suffering, that to be born is a calamity, you will find the urge and the energy to go beyond. Pleasure puts you to sleep and pain wakes you up. If you do not want to suffer, don't go to sleep. You cannot know yourself through bliss alone, for bliss is your very nature.

You must face the opposite, what you are not, to find enlightenment.

#non dualism #non duality #meditation #não dualismo #advaita vedanta #sri nisargadatta maharaj

[mako-neexu]

the way it gets reiterated more than once kills me. marie alter said it. dantes said it. that guda has earned that right to rage and become flame, they have earned the right to be angry at the world for having lost so much from their hands, having been forced to let go as pain has constantly tormented their heart time and time again.

howl, scream, cry in anguish, you with a bleeding heart, you who has constantly strived to move forward without stopping even as you are inevitably deprived of those you love- thats why you must know revenge. you must know how good it feels to strike back even if it will not bring back those you love. in this bloody path set on fire, you could wish for it. you can wish for it. for the world to simply be set ablaze for the pain it has caused you. for the world to know how it feels to be robbed of everything, you who once was an innocent soul now with hands stained blood red. from the depths of despair and grief, you have earned that right for revenge. so set yourself alight and bring forth destruction in your wake. in place of the pain, the anguish, the numbness of it all, (the uselessness of it all), you will know pleasure derived from carnage. you could become one of us. you can become one of us as flames that burn so fiercely just as we loved so passionately. in tasting the sweetness and pleasure of heaven while belonging to hell, you can easily strike down gods with it, you can easily overtake the world and break it if you so wish. that is why you can become one of us. the greatest and last of us as gods of revenge where no one shall refute your hate, your sorrow, your revenge, your love and pain in this bleached earth. where, should the heavens shun you and never forgive you, we will be the one to forgive ourselves.

of course. you won't do it. you don't have that capacity to burn in rage forever. because despite it all, you remember those cherished memories with the bonds that have pulled you up again and again. you remember the people that's made you happy, you remember those that have pushed your back to reach what you've always longed for. you remember seeing that blue sky with the person closest to you. you who burn so much brighter, far more dazzlingly than flame. you, o radiant star, who chooses to love time and time again, you who fights to simply live, to move forward just like you've always done. just like youve always wanted as a feeling that will never change.

#yeah this is an excuse to plug my favorite guda fanart so far #fgo #fate grand order #ugh the coloring is just so good im in awe #fujimaru ritsuka #guda #gudako

[imthebadguyyy]

PALESTINE

In Palestine, where tears have flowed,

A story of sorrow must be told.

War's unrelenting, unforgiving breath,

Bears down on the living, a dangerous dance with death.

Children playing, now dead, in a world not fair,

Innocence lost to the chaos of youth

And as the reporters stand there,

Surrounded by the human toll of war, a haunting truth.

In the halls of power, the world looks on,

As Israel's actions go unchecked, far too long.

The so called international stage, hushed, it appears,

Apathetic to the suffering, the injustice, all while hope disappears.

But diplomacy's voice rings silent in the halls,

For nobody cares about the moral price of wars,

The cries for justice, the pleas for peace,

Ignored by leaders, their indifference never falls to cease.

The world's conscience must be stirred awake,

To halt the suffering, to end the heartache.

For when the superpowers of the world turn a blind eye,

Innocence pays the price, and countless people die.

Cries of "free Palestine!" fill the air,

But to no avail.

We despair, we despair, we despair,

And helpless, we keep standing there.

As helpless as the children being murdered in Palestine.

As helpless as the people cut off from the bare necessities

And yet the great halls of diplomacy can partake in no action, leaving room for only inaction.

Let justice rain down like a furious tempest,

Washing away all the wrongdoing in it's path.

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #israel/palestine #poetry #my poetry #poems #writing

[letterstoear]

Unknown letters

Notes: Malleus x reader, romantic or platonic, either way Malleus values you greatly, angst.

You two can get your very own letter here: Twisted Wonderland letter Package

My dear,

Through the sounds of the wind and the cold touch of stone could you hear the snow falling. Listen closely. Soon you’ll hear the voices of the snow fairies singing ever so softly as they flitter down. Once you hear their songs, please tell me, is it a happy or sad one? I can no longer hear them anymore. I’ve lost their melody with the beating of my own heart.

After your eyes have gazed at the magnificent gargoyles, the glass windowpanes. Look closely at them. Watch how the gray sky allows you to see the true colors of the stained-glass window. Soon you’ll see a familiar face. Truly a beautiful person.

Do you think you could find my bewitching self after staring at something so alluring? I believe you have the talent to do so. I trust you child of man to find me even if I am lost. Seasons may change as I go further into hiding, yet I know the truth. The truth is that you’re all searching for me. Keep searching for me like you have been searching for the hope of me. You’re almost there. I can feel your presence as we speak.

Look closer into the memories of the places we’ve traced to. Find the memories buried deep in the messes that I made. Through your memories will you search for the answer as to where I’ve gone. Remind yourself of everything that I’ve shown you. ________ I’m not gone, not when I have a reason to stay. Furthermore, I have someone looking for me.

You. You can reach me. I know you can, it can’t be anyone but you. The moment we’re reunited is the day I’ll be rid of the shadows that haunt me. Throughout the change in time, I’ve seen your face repeatedly. Yet, when I reach out to touch you, there’s nothing to hold onto.

How about for yourself? Do you see me in the fragments of your memories, or do I come to haunt you?

Tell me ________, I want to know the truth. What has life been like since I’ve left… no since we’ve been separated? Is your life back to the way it once was. Is there any chance my letters to you aren’t reaching you? I do hope not, but when there’s never been a response one starts to think otherwise. Perhaps, you’ve forgotten about me.

_________, I suppose I must move forward to realize you’re not coming back. This game of hide and seek is only a game of one now. What’s more is that it was never a game of two. In my own depths of despair from saying goodbye I’ve created a sorrowful world. One where I believed all this time, we had been playing a game in hopes we could be reunited. I should understand by now that you’ve gone back to where you once belonged.

It’s true what was said so long ago. Sending letters in hopes they reach you weren’t for your own hope. Each letter was a fragment of my own hope. In the belief that you read them but could never answer back. In the belief that they were truly reaching your end of the world. In the belief that your heart continued to love me as I continued the same. What a selfish remark of mine. To ask of you to love me for so long.

Soon, you’ll be nothing more than a memory to me. How I’ve feared that very day only to realize I’ve lived that day repeatedly in this haunted castle of ours. In this lonely place where my reasons to stay have now passed away. In my heart I wish to perish, and I wish to be granted that wish. The end has arrived for me. Please, if you’re still there _________ find me before that wish of mine is granted.

Sincerely,

Malleus Draconia

#twst #twisted wonderland #letter #angst #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #diasomnia #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #silver

[dndfantasygirl]

Fighting for Freedom (Chapter 21: The War has Begun)

Rating: Mature Word count: 4k Pairing: Spawn Astarion x Female Tav (named)/OC Warnings: violence, strong language, innuendo

Summary: Orpheus takes one for the team. Delphie gathers their allies and has a brief respite with Astarion before the battle begins.

*Link to AO3 Post

*Link to Previous Chapter

Delphie's words are left hanging in the air, tears trembling just behind her eye-line, as she looks Orpheus in the eye.

I was just free.

The voice of Orpheus echoes through her mind, relentless and cold, a glimpse of the freedom that had once been within her grasp. Delphie can't watch as Lae'zel begs the gith prince to reconsider. The guilt worms its way through her stomach, a whirring in her skull she can't shake, realizing her own selfishness.

Within the span of mere moments, the change begins. Orpheus's body unnaturally contorts as his bones snap and tentacles form from his mouth. Horridly, his flesh burns away, only to reveal a lurid purple beneath. She curls into herself, unable to bear to watch as he is doomed to be.

As Orpheus opens the gateway, Lae'zel follows close behind, her heart heavy with sorrow, while Shadowheart follows silently in their wake.

Delphie feels the weight of her guilt start to peel off, if only just a bit, as Astarion wraps his arms around her petite form. His gentle nuzzle against the curve of her neck sends a shiver down her spine, a small moment of comfort from the chaos that surrounds them.

"As much as I would like to stay here and hold you, darling, we must go."

His words, though laced with reluctance, pull her back into the grim reality that awaits them. Delphie nods in understanding. With a determined resolve, she steps away from his hold, her hand coming to meet his as she guides him forward toward the gleaming gate that beckons them on.

------------------------------

Stepping through the portal, the elves are thrust into a scene of unfathomable chaos. Before them sprawls a landscape of devastation, a tableau of war and destruction that grips their hearts with dread.

Perched on the edge of a cliff, they overlook the once-grand High Hall, now a battleground engulfed in the fury of conflict. Red dragons soar through the smoky sky, their fiery breath raining down upon the nautiloids that dart through the air in futile attempts at evasion. The acrid scent of smoke fills their lungs, mingling with the distant cries of anguish and the roar of flames that engulf the city below.

But amidst the carnage, a chilling sight arrests their gaze—the Netherbrain hovers ominously above the High Hall like a malevolent specter. Its dark tendrils writhe in the air, casting a pall of despair over the besieged city.

"We're too late," Shadowheart's voice is heavy with resignation, her gaze averted in shame.

Delphie feels a surge of determination coursing through her veins, a defiant spark igniting within her despite the overwhelming odds stacked against them. She reflects on the tumultuous journey they've endured, the trials and tribulations that have led them to this pivotal moment. Their quest to rid themselves of the insidious tadpoles that lurk within their minds, the sacrifices made, the battles fought—it all converges to this critical juncture.

But despair is not an option, not when there's still a glimmer of hope to be found amidst the chaos. With a resolute tone, Delphie counters Shadowheart's despondency. "No," she asserts firmly. "It's never too late."

Drawing in a deep breath, she steadies herself, the weight of responsibility heavy upon her shoulders. "We have to find the others," she declares, her words a rallying cry against the encroaching darkness.

No sooner has she spoken than Voss and the other githyanki approach them.

------------------------------

Voss guides them to the Watch Citadel where their fellow companions wait for them. Delphie pushes open the heavy doors, their weight giving way with a creaking groan that echoes through the room. As she steps inside, the ambient chatter fades into a hushed silence, all eyes turning to her in anticipation.

The room sprawls out before her, a cozy yet imposing space that serves as a retreat for the Fists. Plush velvet chairs surround a long wooden table where comrades gather for meals and strategy sessions. A small L-shaped bar stands in one corner, weathered stools resting against it. And at the heart of it all, a crackling hearth casts a warm glow.

Delphie's heart quickens in her chest as she scans the room, her gaze alighting upon the familiar faces of her friends. Relief floods her senses as she sees them alive and well. Without hesitation, she strides forward, a smile spreading across her lips as she embraces each of them in turn.

Then, her breath catches in her throat as her gaze falls upon her step-siblings. Tears well in her eyes, blurring her vision as they rush forward to envelop her in a tight embrace. She sinks into their arms.

The heart-shaped tip of Harley's tail wraps around them, drawing them closer together. The wood elf feels a lump form in her throat as she tries to speak.

"I'm sorry," she chokes out, her words barely audible.

Bellamy reaches out, a gentle touch brushing away a stray tear from Delphie's cheek. "You tried your best, sister," she reassures her. "Now, it's time for us to help."

Delphie nods. She looks around the room, taking in the faces of her companions and family, each one a testament to the bonds of friendship and love that have sustained them through countless trials.

Among them, she spots the familiar faces of Arabella, Alfira, Rolan, Dammon, Zevlor, Isobel, Aylin, and Yurgir, their presence a source of comfort and reassurance in the midst of uncertainty. With a tender smile, Delphie acknowledges each one, silently thanking them for their unwavering support and faith.

A Flaming Fist with shoulder-length blonde hair approaches her. "My steel is yours as well."

But before the wood elf can formulate a response, Harley's boisterous voice interrupts, demanding a speech with the kind of enthusiasm only the lavender-skinned tiefling could muster. Delphie's cheeks flush with embarrassment, her mind racing to find the right words to satisfy the eager crowd.

She steals a glance behind Bellamy, where Harley stands with an expectant grin plastered across her face. The pressure mounts, threatening to overwhelm her, but then she catches sight of Astarion, his lopsided smile and casual demeanor serving as a silent reassurance.

In that moment, Delphie finds her anxiety easing in the wake of his presence. His nonchalant shrug seems to say, "You've got this," and as always, for some reason, she believes him.

"Um..." she begins tentatively, her voice wavering slightly before finding its footing. "Alright, everyone, listen up."

"I know things look grim right now. We've seen horrors, faced challenges that would make the bravest quiver in their boots. But we can't let fear paralyze us. We can't afford to give in to doubt. We've come too far to turn back now. We've fought so hard to get to this point, and we're not going to let all that effort go to waste.

"Yes, the odds may seem stacked against us. Yes, the challenges ahead may seem insurmountable. But we are not alone in this. We have each other. And together, there's nothing we can't overcome.

"Embrace your courage and let it guide you through battle," Delphie urges, her voice rising with passion. "Don't give in to fear! Today, we fight for family. For friends."

She turns her gaze to Astarion, their eyes meeting in a moment of silent understanding. With a soft, reassuring smile, Delphie continues, "For...love."

Astarion returns her smile, a flicker of warmth passing between them.

"So, let's stop sulking around and kick some illithid ass!" the wood elf concludes, her words punctuated by a chorus of cheers and applause from those gathered, their spirits lifted by her unwavering determination and rallying cry to arms.

All except for Lae'zel, Astarion, and Orpheus. The gith and mind flayer give Delphie a determined nod, while Astarion can't help but widen his small smile.

As the cheers die down, Harley, wearing her signature broad smile that seems to light up her face, makes her way over to the wood elf. "Alden was surprisingly always one for theatrics," she remarks as she displays a small mortar of rose-colored cream in her hand. "I think he would love for you to battle in style."

Delphie quirks an eyebrow at her step-sister, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "You sure that was my father?" she teases skeptically.

Harley shrugs with a playful grin on her lips. "Well, maybe I'm slightly more of a fan of it," she admits with a chuckle, her lavender-hued skin glowing with excitement at the prospect of adding a touch of flair to the impending battle.

The two women's laughter mingles in the air as Harley dips her finger into the creamy concoction. She begins to paint delicate dots under Delphie's eyes and mouth, and a line of dots between her eyebrows, extending down to the bridge of her nose.

Delphie allows herself to be swept up in Harley's infectious enthusiasm. As the last dot is placed, she admires her reflection in a nearby mirror, the rose-colored markings adding a touch of whimsy to her appearance.

"There!" Harley exclaims with satisfaction, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

As Astarion approaches them from behind Delphie, Harley's mischievous grin widens, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. Without hesitation, she extends the mortar of rose-colored cream to the wood elf, a playful challenge evident in her expression.

"Here," the tiefling says with a gleeful lilt to her voice. "You should paint Astarion's face, too!"

Delphie blinks in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected suggestion. "Oh, okay?" she manages to utter as she accepts the mortar from Harley's outstretched hand.

Before she can even process what's happening, however, the tiefling vanishes from her sight with a mischievous giggle, leaving Delphie and Astarion alone in her wake. The two elves exchange bemused glances, their eyebrows raising in unison as they watch the tiefling's retreating figure disappear into the crowd.

Astarion's lips curve into a smile, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Donning some warrior paint, are we?" he teases as he nods towards the rose-colored cream in her hand.

The wood elf's chuckle rings out, a melodic sound that fills the air with warmth. "It was Harley's idea."

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she dips her finger into the creamy mixture. As she slowly approaches him, her movements deliberate and teasing, Astarion finds himself captivated by the serene expression on her face.

It's a rare sight nowadays, one that fills him with almost an equal sense of peace and contentment, and he finds himself unable to look away as she begins to replicate the dotted pattern on his face.

Normally, he would balk at the idea of anyone defiling his impeccable features, but with Delphie, it's different. He trusts her implicitly, and the sight of her finally at ease convinces him to remain still as she continues her artistic endeavor.

"You're quite possibly the only person I would allow to do this," the vampire spawn whispers, his voice barely audible above the murmurs of the crowd.

Delphie graces him with a gentle smile, her touch light and sure as she paints the last few dots onto his face. "I know," she murmurs, setting the mortar aside on the wooden bar beside her.

Astarion's fleeting sense of peace is abruptly shattered as Delphie's expression shifts, her solemnity casting a shadow over the momentary respite. He watches as she draws in a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as one can be in the face of imminent death, darling," he replies with a wry smile.

As they stand together, lost in the moment, Kaneru approaches them slowly, a tentative expression on his face as he tries to avoid interrupting their conversation. "I do not mean to intrude, dear sister," he begins, "but I spoke to Bellamy. We believe it might be easier to fly to the Netherbrain."

Delphie's eyes light up with excitement at the prospect, a grin spreading across her face as she nods in agreement.

------------------------------

Outside of the citadel, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, Delphie's eyes light up as she catches a glimpse of Echo in the distance. Without hesitation, she breaks into a run, her heart pounding with relief as she closes the distance between them. As she reaches the gold dragon, she throws her arms around her long neck.

"It is good to see you are alive, my friend," Echo rumbles in her deep, melodious voice.

Delphie nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she leans back to meet Echo's gaze. "Let's hope it'll stay that way," she replies with a note of cautious optimism, her words laced with a hint of uncertainty.

As Astarion approaches them, Delphie's mischievous grin widens, a playful glint dancing in her eyes as she turns to him.

"Hop on, dretri!" she exclaims with a teasing lilt.

The vampire spawn returns her smile. "As long as the lizard won't drop me," he quips.

"I will keep the bloodsucker safe unless he gives me a reason not to do so," Echo declares with a mischievous smirk of her own, her eyes gleaming with humor.

"Fair point," Astarion remarks, a wry smile playing on his lips as he prepares to climb onto the dragon's back.

However, as he attempts to mount Echo with all the grace and elegance of the rogue he is, his efforts are met with less-than-graceful results. He struggles to find his footing, his movements awkward and uncoordinated, much to Delphie's amusement.

Unable to contain herself any longer, the wood elf bursts into laughter, the sound ringing out like music amidst the chaos of their surroundings. With tears of mirth sparkling in her eyes, she watches as Astarion's attempts to mount Echo continue to falter, each failed attempt only serving to deepen her amusement.

"Echo, give him a hand," she manages to choke out between giggles.

The young dragon rolls her eyes in mock exasperation, a playful glint dancing in her golden orbs as she regards the struggling vampire spawn. With a gentle nudge, she helps Astarion the rest of the way onto her back, his surprised yelp drowned out by infectious laughter.

As the vampire spawn finally finds his footing, perched precariously atop Echo's majestic form, Delphie's laughter gradually begins to subside, replaced by a sense of warmth that fills her heart.

The wood elf's gaze sweeps over their companions, a surge of pride swelling in her chest at the sight of them all armed and ready for battle. Each one a formidable ally in their own right, united by a common purpose and a shared determination to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Lae'zel, her steely gaze unwavering, mounts onto Kaneru, his bronze scales gleaming in the light of the flames below them. Despite their differences, they make a formidable pair, their resolve mirrored in the fierce determination that burns within their hearts.

Shadowheart and Jaheira, their bond unbreakable, mount onto Bellamy with a sense of quiet strength, the silver of the dragon's scales like her own armor donned. Side by side, they become a testament to the power of loyalty and friendship.

Gale and Wyll, their expressions resolute, mount onto Erg with a sense of purpose, the brass wings of the dragon reflecting those of his avariel form. Together, they stand ready to unleash the full force of their magical prowess, their combined strength a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.

Karlach, her eyes alive with mischief, mounts onto Harley with a playful grin, the copper in the dragon's own gaze shimmering with excitement at the prospect of adventure. Together, they embody the spirit of mischief and mayhem.

As Delphie stands among her friends and family, a sense of awe washes over her, the magnitude of their journey hitting her with full force. It's strange to think that only a few short months ago, she was alone in the world, with no friends to call her own and no family besides the two serpents that coiled around her wrists. How far they've all come since then, from strangers to trusted allies, and from trust to love.

As she looks around at the faces of her companions, each one a testament to the bonds they've forged and the trials they've overcome, Delphie feels a swell of gratitude in her heart. This is her family now, the people she holds dear, the ones she must protect at all costs. They've become her rock, her support, her reason to keep fighting even when the odds seem insurmountable.

And now, as they stand on the brink of battle, it falls to Delphie to lead them forward, to guide them into the fray with the hope that they will emerge victorious and return to a better life. It's a heavy burden to bear, but she carries it with determination and resolve, knowing that she does not stand alone.

As she looks around at her companions, a pang of bittersweet emotion tugs at her heart. She loves each and every one of them with a depth that defies words, but she knows that their time together may be fleeting. The thought weighs heavily on her mind as she considers the future that awaits them if they survive the coming battle.

Gale must return to Waterdeep, his duties and responsibilities calling him back to the city he calls home. Shadowheart, after decades of believing her parents to be dead, longs to reconnect with them, to forge new bonds and heal old wounds. Lae'zel will probably want to return to the Astral Plane. Jaheira will have to return to the Harpers, her duty to the organization pulling her back into their ranks. Karlach faces the daunting task of returning to Avernus to prevent her infernal heart from consuming her from within. Wyll, ever the adventurer, likely has his own quests and ambitions to pursue, whether it's reuniting with his father or continuing his adventures as the Blade of the Frontiers.

And then there's Astarion, whose future remains uncertain despite the promises they've made to each other. She pledged to search for a cure for his vampirism, to stand by his side no matter what challenges they may face. But as she considers the possibility of their future together, doubts begin to creep into her mind. What if he doesn't want to live in the Dragon Cove once they've found a cure? If they even find it? What if he wants something completely different from her?

As Delphie's negative thoughts threaten to consume her, a tingling sensation washes over her, a familiar presence stirring within her mind. Without hesitation, she opens herself up to her friends' tadpoles.

'You're spiraling again, Delphnye.' Shadowheart.

'We're here for you, Del.' Wyll.

'And we're not going anywhere.' Karlach.

'Seems like you're stuck with us.' Gale.

'Chk, enough with the sentiments. Let us leave now. My blade thirsts for blood.' Lae'zel.

'I won't leave your side, darling.' Astarion.

It's as if they've all read her mind, their voices mingling together in a chorus of support and solidarity. With a deep breath, Delphie feels a renewed sense of determination coursing through her veins, her resolve strengthened by the unwavering support of her friends.

She turns her gaze to Astarion, his reassuring smile giving her the strength she needs to push forward. "Let's go kill a brain," she mutters to herself, her voice firm with resolve as she spreads her wings and takes to the air.

------------------------------

Using the billowing smoke as a cloak, the dragons follow Delphie's lead as she glides gracefully towards the looming silhouette of the High Hall. With each beat of their powerful wings, they draw closer to their destination, their forms obscured by the thick haze that envelops them.

As they approach, Delphie uses her connection with Esme to observe below the smoke. She comes to a sudden halt as Esme's keen eyes scan the courtyard below. There, amidst the chaos and confusion, a large army of Absolutists gathers, their presence a grim reminder of the imminent danger they face.

"Absolutists," Delphie announces, severing the connection with the pseudodragon. "At least fifty or so."

"We need to stop them!" Shadowheart's urgent voice pierces through the sounds of explosions and roars, her eyes flashing with determination as she turns to her companions.

"We don't have time!" Gale shouts back. "We need to get to the Netherbrain before it completes the Grand Design!"

A tense silence hangs in the air as the gravity of their situation weighs heavily upon them. With time running out and the fate of the world hanging in the balance, Delphie knows that they cannot afford to hesitate any longer.

"Then, we'll split up!" Her voice booms with authority, cutting through the chaos. "As much as I don't want to separate us again, it's the only way!"

Shadowheart's gaze meets hers with unwavering determination as she declares, "I'm not leaving your side! Jaheira and I will join you and Astarion!"

The wood elf returns her gaze, her heart swelling with gratitude for her friend's loyalty. With a firm nod, she acknowledges Shadowheart's pledge, knowing that together they will be a formidable force against whatever challenges may lie ahead. "Thank you," she murmurs.

Turning her attention to the rest of their companions, Delphie issues a command. "The rest of you take out the Absolutists and meet us at the top!"

With her words, Kaneru, Erg, and Harley swoop down towards the courtyard below, their powerful wings beating against the air as they descend upon their unsuspecting enemies. As they dive into the fray, their forms disappear amidst the swirling chaos.

------------------------------

Delphie leads the way, her senses alert as she guides Bellamy and Echo through the air towards the towering form of the Netherbrain. With each beat of their powerful wings, they draw closer to their destination, the wood elf's keen eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger.

As they finally land atop the Netherbrain, Delphie's nose wrinkles in disgust at the sensation of the fleshy substance beneath her boots. The air is thick with the stench of decay, and she can feel the eerie presence of the mind flayer's influence hanging heavy in the air. But despite the discomfort, Delphie remains resolute, her focus unwavering as she prepares to face whatever challenges may lie ahead.

Echo and Bellamy land next to her as she gestures for Esme to obscure herself from view. With a sense of determination, Jaheira, Shadowheart, and Astarion dismount from the dragons' backs, standing confidently beside Delphie, their weapons drawn and ready for battle.

As the group gazes up at the Crown, Astarion's voice breaks through the tense silence.

"That's it! We have to use the Netherstones on the Crown - it's the only hope we have," he declares, pointing toward the massive artifact.

Before they can formulate a plan of action, however, a sudden disturbance interrupts their thoughts. With a thunderous roar, a red dragon with eyes dominated by shades of purple descends from the skies, its imposing form casting a shadow over the group.

Echo and Bellamy react instinctively, emitting protective snarls as they position themselves between their companions and the imposing figure that now stands before them. The Emperor, wielding the other set of purple-dominated eyes, glares at the group with undisguised malice, his presence radiating an aura of power and authority.

With a flick of his wrist, the Emperor unleashes a dark magic that causes four cocoons to rise from the surface of the Netherbrain. As the group watches in horror, the cocoons begin to hatch, revealing four familiar figures emerging from within - their Dream Visitors.

"That's... that's the person from my dreams..." Shadowheart's voice trembles with disbelief as she stares at the figure before her.

I know you. I know everything about you. Your thoughts. Your feelings. Your weaknesses.

Delphie's brows furrow in response to the invasive intrusion, her mind racing as she grapples with the implications of the Emperor's taunts. Beside her, she can sense the tension radiating from her companions, their faces drawn tight with apprehension as they brace themselves for the impending confrontation.

And so do they.

With a gesture from the Emperor, the Dream Visitors beside him move with an unnatural grace, their movements synchronized and purposeful as they charge forth towards Delphie and her companions. Each step they take is filled with a sense of menace, their malevolent intent clear as they close the distance between themselves and their targets.

With weapons drawn and hearts pounding, Delphie and her companions steel themselves for the coming confrontation.

#astarion x tav #astarion #astarion and tav #astarion angst #astarion fanfic #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #astarion x oc #astarion x tav fluff #spawn astarion

[tangledspice075]

Stab, duck out of range, repeat.

It's alarming how easy it is to fall back on the old tactics. Of course, Polites thought 10 years of war would do that to a person. 

Following Odysseus's orders, he struck the heels and moved out of range, circling until the cyclops let down his guard again.

He doesn't like fighting. He doesn't think he ever would. But someone has to fight the war for the people who can't. Besides, he reassured himself he struck first. Even so, he mourns the life that must be shed.

The cyclops roared in pain, so loud that Polites heard it over the shouts of the men, and for one flitting moment, Polites feared the ceiling would fall. Suddenly the cyclops had its club in its hands. And it was coming straight. for. him.

Dimly he thinks he should run. Do something. Move! But his muscles wouldn't give.

He thinks he sees someone running towards him from the corner of his eye, but all he can do is stare at the club as it sinks closer and closer towards him.

Right as it was right on top of him, he felt someone push him out of the way. Skidding away from the club and on the floor, with a CRACK, the club fell. 

Suddenly he was a child, wide-eyed and staring as a boar charged closer and closer. And just like now, he was pushed out of the way. Polities saw Odysseus push him out of harms way as the boar's tusk grazed Odysseus's leg. 

Swiftly like a bolt of lightning, he had a feeling who pushed him out of the way.

No.

He scrambled up to his feet and ran over to the body.

NonononononoNO

“Captain…?”

There on the ground was the broken body of Odysseus. 

His captain.

His friend.

Dead.

He dropped to his knees, fumbling for a pulse, checking his breathing, anything.

Nothing.

He doesn't know what happened in the next few minutes, staring at Odysseus's body in shock.

He was only roused when Eurylochus moved towards him, shaking his shoulder firmly but gently.

"Is the captain...?"

"Dead."

His voice rang hollow to his ears, and Eurylochus gave him a look of solemn sorrow.

Not wanting to look him in the face, he looked around the cavern and wished he hadn't.

Odysseus was not the only casualty brought on by the cyclops. From a glance around the cavern, he saw at least a dozen men not moving, lying in a puddle of blood. 

The cyclops was lying flat on the floor, not dead, as his first glance told him, his chest rising and falling.

Polities stumbled to stand, and Eurylochus offered him his arm to stabilize. Not wanting to fall, he leaned on his arm.

Limping over to the cyclops, he and Eurylochus joined the still-standing men.

"We don't know what happened. he was standing one second and the next…" a man said, Polities not recognizing his face.

He stepped forward and took a quick inspection. The cyclops looks asleep, his breaths slow and deep. But something is off. It looks familiar... 

"Captain… must have put lotus in the wine."

Where is the captain?” A voice from the crowd asked.

There was a pause of silence. It said the answer far better than words could.

Polities saw the shock and confusion ripple through the crowd and the despair that soon followed.

Knowing he had to change the subject, he asked, “How are we going to escape? We can’t kill the cyclops, or we will be trapped inside.”

“And what shall we do with our fallen friends?” Asked another voice from the crowds.

Eurylochus, whilst ordering everyone to scout around the cave, replied, “we shall have to leave them here.”

Polites spun around in shock. 

“Leave our friends here!? The least we can do is give them a proper burial!”

“Carrying the bodies will slow us down,”

“So we leave them here to rot!?”

“We will likely have to retreat onto the boats and set sail as fast as possible. There is no room on the boats for bodies and no time for us to bury them.”

Knowing he is correct yet still refusing to leave them, polities stomped off.

Eurylochus watched as he lugged the bodies together and whisked around looking for something. Soon he had long sticks stacked in a cone shape. Swiftly he knew what he was making. A funeral pyre.

Looking around the cavern, he decided he could spare a few men.

Just as Polites was trying to light the pyre, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Jumping in shock, he turned around he saw a trio of men standing behind him.

"Eurylochus sent us to help." said the one who put his hand on his shoulder.

Polites looked over at where Eurylochus was. He was standing with his back firmly towards Polites, ordering the men to sharpen the cyclops' club.

Even during all of this, he smiled. Not as big as his other ones, just a small, fond one. But a smile nonetheless.

. . .

Looking at the pyre burning with the smoke drifting to the top of the ceiling, he felt a pang of sadness. Odysseus is dead. Ithica has lost its king, Penelope has lost her husband, Telemachus has lost his dad, who he didn't even get to know or meet. He had lost his friend. And the world doesn't even know of his death.

He looked down at the sword in his hands. Odysseus sword. He grips it tightly, and then, right there, he makes a promise. He would not let Odysseus go to the underworld with regrets. He would make it back home and tell Telemachus of his dad, so many stories that he would feel like he has known him all his life. He would make it back and tell Penelope the terrible news and offer the comfort he knows she will need. He would make it back home.

Behind him, Eurylochus walked up to him till they were side to side. They stood there for a moment, watching the pyre flicker and burn.

Then in unison, they turned and walked back to the crowd of men with the club now sharpened into a spear.

They would remember them.

And behind them, the flames of those who've gone burned.

#look i said Polites surives #I didn't say anything about anyone else #Kicking Polites off the sacrificial alter and putting Odysseus up there instead #Jorge Rivera-Herrans has made a decision but given that it is a stupid ass decision I've deicide to ignore it #If u want a fic where “nobody” doesn't die #I suggest “we'll survive what we get into” by I_have_too_many_fandoms on Ao3 #jorge rivera herrans #epic the musical #epic the cyclops saga #Odysseus #Polites #eurylochus #epic the troy saga #Tell me what u think of this since this is the first creative writing i did since like 5th grade #I'm going to post this on Ao3 as soon as I get the invite for the account #Might write more tbh #I have some ideas on what happens afterwards #my post

[cornerful]

March 9th

A sweet fountain played there in the morning sun, and a sward of bright green lay about it; but in the midst, drooping over the pool, stood a dead tree, and the falling drops dripped sadly from its barren and broken branches back into the clear water.

For the imagery tag... amazing that we can go from the banner a thousand feet above the plain and towers of pearl and silver to this. The view from outside vs the view from inside or something. And I'm reminded of the Púkel men. Stone lasts a long time, even in the likeness of its shapers, but that doesn't mean there is life left within.

Of course there is life and some hope in Minas Tirith but still, as has been said, it dwindles. :(

How many times have we seen stone be the only relic of ages past. In some ways I feel places like the barrow downs haunting Minas Tirith right now, for all her banners still fly

'But I will say this: the rule of no realm is mine, neither of Gondor nor any other, great or small. But all worthy things that are in peril as the world now stands, those are my care. And for my part, I shall not wholly fail of my task, though Gondor should perish, if anything passes through this night that can still grow fair or bear fruit and flower again in days to come. For I also am a steward. Did you not know?'

Me every time I read this:

Yet in the wizard's face he saw at first only lines of care and sorrow; though as he looked more intently he perceived that under all there was a great joy: a fountain of mirth enough to set a kingdom laughing, were it to gush forth.

🥺💚

Presently he noticed a man, clad in black and white, coming along the narrow street from the centre of the citadel towards him.

Beregond time!!!

'But do not despair!' He laughed again, seeing the dismay in Pippin's face. 'Those who have had heavy duty take somewhat to refresh their strength in the mid-morning.

...

They put all into a wicker basket and climbed back into the sun

Beregond teasing Pippin about food and then taking him on a picnic is so cute I love Beregond so much good for him

'The Black Riders?' said Pippin, opening his eyes, and they were wide and dark with an old fear re-awakened.

'I know of them,' said Pippin softly, 'but I will not speak of them now, so near, so near.'

Not all terrors fade easily from even hobbits' minds :(

'Our reach is shortened, and we cannot strike till some foe comes within it. Then our hand must be heavy!' He smote the hilt of his sword.

Pippin looked at him: tall and proud and noble, as all the men that he had yet seen in that land; and with a glitter in his eye as he thought of the battle. 'Alas! my own hand feels as light as a feather,' he thought, but he said nothing.

I'm strongly reminded of his attitude towards his own ability to be valiant (basically: only when I have to be) when Gandalf describes him as such, and of him telling Bergil he is not a fighter, and of Bergil saying he almost wishes there were no war. Took or not Pip is a hobbit for sure <3

Pippin looked up, and it seemed to him that the sky had grown ashen-grey, as if a vast dust and smoke hung above them, and light came dully through it. But in the West the dying sun had set all the fume on fire, and now Mindolluin stood black against a burning smoulder flecked with embers. 'So ends a fair day in wrath!' he said, forgetful of the lad at his side.

More imagery...woof

Lights sprang in many windows, and from the houses and wards of the men at arms along the walls there came the sound of song.

The deep breath before the plunge. This little bit about the people singing inside as the last dusk falls might be my favourite. If ever there were a liminal space it would be this: hope, or something less like hope and more like endurance, suspended in time like dust in a sunbeam.

#lotrn309 #lotr newsletter #imagery