#Oh and Soul is not the one causing the calamity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yorsgirl · 7 months ago

Note

Yan!Heian!Sukuna and with Y/N?

Lately, whenever Darling got pregnant she ended up having countless miscarriages, the longest lasting at least 3 months, Sukuna began to suspect these countless coincidences.

He doesn't care about these losses since he didn't want to share Y/N with some brat, but he found it very strange that every time she got pregnant resulted in a miscarriage, so he started investigating and finally found out why this was happening.

He discovered that Y/N was causing her own miscarriages, as she knew that the last thing the world needed was Sukuna's descendants, so he finally confronts her but with that damn psychological terror that he loves to do to her.

Oh my, I love love love this idea!!

I kinda went out on this one, but I hope I did justice to what you were aiming at. Hope you like it :) Also I am sorry for being so late

Playing God

Yandere!Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted. Needed. You had to realize that no other heaven except his arms would be comforting. Even if that meant, breaking your very soul.

Tropes: Dark Romance, horror, angst

Warnings: Implied nsfw(forced), mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, cannibalism and isolation. Trauma, mild stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, minor character death(s), gore, gaslighting, manipulation, misogyny, blood, degradation(non-kinky), patriarchal society, unhealthy relationship, implied child birth.

General warnings: Yandere!True form!Husband!Sukuna, Wife!Reader, Heian Era, both Sukuna and reader are a red flag on their own, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 9.7k

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw was the burning hut, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent. The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

Everything went down in flames. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again.

In this reverie of madness, he held your sight when you attempted to turn - the eyes tinted with crimson.

"I am sorry for your loss, m'lady."

You had seen it all.

You had your fair share of encounters, received news and such. Women losing their mind and sanity after delivered with a news this devastating. Notably, no woman would feel any bliss after knowing that they had lost their child. Lost the chance of motherhood before experiencing it. Violent outbursts was the most probable outcome.

"This is a hard time," The midwife spoke softly. "Yet, you shouldn't neglect your health."

You perceived the softness to be fear. She must have had dealt with situations like these, most of them traumatizing as you assumed. Perhaps, she expected the same from you too.

You tore your gaze off her, leaning back on your bedframe, "I'd like to be left alone."

Your declaration was answered with compliance. Offering a humble bow, she bid you farewell, walking out of your chambers. Once her footsteps seized, you finally let your guard down. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you laid back down on your bed.

"Good riddance," You muttered to yourself. Moments of such vulnerability wasn't rare, considering you were served with loneliness, lately. Save for the times you spent in the presence of Sukuna. His decree, one might say. Your attention shouldn't be wasted on anyone but him. You scoffed recalling his words. Involuntarily, you stroked your belly, the corner of your lip curled up.

Once a house to life, given by your husband; now lay vacant from your doing.

A twisted sense of pride swelled up in your chest, a wide grin stretching on your face. You were successful in your quest, again. Mercilessly, you uprooted the seed of your husband's lineage.

Perhaps, you've truly gone sick.

Yet, this revolt of feelings were miles lesser than the repugnant you encountered when you realized your first pregnancy. You were on the brink of clawing out the creature growing in your womb. You'd have torn it apart with while revelling in the joy of watching its blood drip down on the face of Earth. If not for Sukuna's presence in the room, you might've gone through it.

You lost a fragment of yourself, that day.

Throwing up countless times, dizziness, nausea, even losing your consciousness while walking down. No, they weren't pregnancy side effects. More so, the outcome of the stress accumulating in you.

Sickening. His kin you'd have cradled in your body. To be born and grow up into a revolting, merciless creature like his father. To take up place in your womb, your flesh and blood and combining with his – a living proof of your plight. Disgusting.

Never. You'd never let that happen.

You'd never succumb to such monstrosity.

You had already given up your freedom, your dignity, your alight life to Sukuna in exchange of the lives you held dear. The lives back in your ancestral village, home to your kin.

You were affirmed. An heir of Ryomen Sukuna would never be birthed from you.

Speak of the devil, he appears.

An overwhelming familiar aura surrounded your very being, the doors to your chamber slid open, your captor, your husband strolled inside. Even his mere presence held the malevolence in him. You attempted to rise from your position at his arrival.

"Sit." He commanded.

You silently obeyed his order, keeping your gaze settled on your lap, the energy had your stomach churning with trepidation; at times when you didn't do anything either. And this time, you were guilty. Two moments passed in silence until he spoke.

"I heard from the midwife."

You took in a sharp breath, swallowing a lump in your throat. It was the same ordeal, like the first two times. Yet, you were a tad bit calm since the previous encounters. Probably, due to the fact you were getting used to this role. In this past moons, you had developed into the wife, he was carving you out to be. Giving him just the reactions he wanted, for that saved you a lot of anguish and pain. Even if it came at the price of your self-respect. This was the only way.

With your head hung low, you spoke, "Forgive me, my lord. I am incapable of bearing you an heir. I-It must have been my fau-"

"Not another word."

You instantly stiffened up, his deep voice causing chills to run down your spine. Did you make an error? Was he aware of your tumultuous acts? Was the play not convincing enough?

He held your chin, forcing you to look up at him. All of his four, red eyes bore into you. You bit on your inner cheek, blood coursing in your veins - steadfast.

They say, your fear start to vanish once you've remained in the source of their vicinity too long. That statement is false. For even after staying with your captor for almost two years, you still held your fear.

"The one at fault bore consequences."

That's when you were hit with the faint stench of blood from him. Another one perished. You took the wild guess of it being the midwife. However, instead of amplifying fright, it was lessened. You wouldn't be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"You aren't at fault, wife."

Oh, but you were.

Sukuna held your gaze, cupping your cheek; the rough pad of his thumb trailed a line on your skin. His tone and grip were surprisingly gentle. "There's no need to apologize."

The corners of your eyes crinkled down, you lean into his touch. You assume, it's a good move as you noted the flicker of emotion in his eyes. "It's the third time, my lord. Perhaps, I bear some shortcomings."

"What nonsense," He rolled his eyes. "There's none, not in my eyes. Don't fill your head with such fickle thoughts." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Is that understood?"

He wasn't one for affirmations but maybe- just maybe it was his attempt at comfort, you supposed. The previous losses must had him learning, the threads of condolence. Still, for you, they'd never mean anything less than empty words. The last thing you wanted was to be comforted by your tormentor. You'd rather step into hell willingly.

But you were living under his wing. You have to play according to his whims. You nodded. "Yes, my lord."

His hand left your face, dropping to his thigh. He looked at you, as if sizing you up. You had to keep yourself from making any unnecessary movements. Sukuna wanted you composed, whatever the situation. (Except the times when he bedded you, you were allowed to scream, cry and thrash around then. Cause you were trapped under his immense strength, struggles were futile).

After a while, he asked, "Any wishes?"

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering down then back to him. You let out a breath, before continuing. "May I visit the shrine... this evening?"

Silence.

You were contemplating whether you had offended him, somehow. Previously, he did allow for your little trips, you wondered if his patience was running thin cause of your repeated incapability of bearing him an heir. Maybe, you ran out of luck.

You were about to mutter an apology but then a smug grin spread across his lips, "Why so?" He asked.

"To-" You swallowed a lump, preparing to answer the practiced dialogue. "To offer prayers for–"

"Why grieve for someone who didn't even take form?" He cut you up, raising an eyebrow. For a tad moment, he sounded curious. It broke into a cruel chuckle, "You humans would make a funeral out of anything, yes?"

If you held an ounce of sympathy then you wouldn't question.

You wanted to say but you knew better. Besides, you still have to keep up the act of being his loyal wife. Heaving a out a deep breath, you replied, "I suppose." You paused, running the tip of your tongue over your lip.

"I'd pray that I can bear you an heir the next time, my lord."

Nay, more so: I'd pray that you receive your end soon, my lord.

Sukuna watched you. No, not look. He watched, like a predator. Then, his lips cracked into a sinister grin. "You've a way with your words, wife."

It caught you off guard. You raised an eyebrow, attempting to voice out your confusion. "What do-"

"I will accompany you."

"Sukuna sama, the herbalist you asked for, has arrived."

Sukuna spared a glance at Uraume, who knelt by his feet.

"Bring him."

As on cue, they rose up from their stance, pivoting around towards the door. It parted, two curses had a man in their grasp as he struggled to break free. His eyes widening with terror when it fell on the King, sitting atop his throne.

The man was pushed down to his knees, face meeting the floor in a loud slam. His scuffles were in vain against such power, he knew that. Still, in a situation of life and death, rationality takes it's leave.

Sukuna clicked his tongue in annoyance. All he wanted was some herbalist to answer the flurry of questions in his which had him restless for the past few days. Did this scum think he'd be killed? Maybe he would be, if he deems it necessary or he proves to be useless.

What had him restless was your miscarriages. Counting the most recent would make it a fourth. Where did he go wrong? You were kept in utmost luxury, no toils whatsoever. Still, what was wrong?

—》《—

"Perhaps, there's some faults in her highness."

"Keep your voice down, Mira. Someone may hear you."

"I am a lot quite... but tell me, don't you find it strange? How come she has lost all of her children?"

"I- I suppose. Perhaps, motherhood is not written in her fate."

"Or so, she's simply incapable."

—》《—

Safe to say, those were the last words they uttered before they were turned into a mash of flesh and blood.

Sliced into pieces that even trying to make a proper corpse out of the remnants weren't possible.

At times, Sukuna wished he held the power to bring back someone to life. Then maybe, he'd have given those servants a death, more worthy. Maybe, ripping out their limbs, piece by piece. First the bones would break, ripped from the ligaments, then it'd be the muscles; that was easy to just tear out. And after that happened, he could have just sewn up the blobs of flesh again and repeat the process until they learn their lesson or the life leaves them again.

He deduced the latter would be more probable. Still, it would be fine. They deserved that.

Speaking ill of you in his palace, in his vicinity, in his world was prohibited. A sin, in the words of humans. And a sin never goes unpunished.

You - his consort, his queen, you were heavenly. There isn't a fault in you, it's some external factor, must be. But he can't let go of his growing suspicion either.

Sukuna detested children, it was a known fact. Always ending their lives first, whenever he set foot in a village. They were of no use to him, unless they were served to him on his platter. He couldn't deny, their flesh was flavourful.

Even though, he held great disdain for them, he couldn't help but desire a kinship with you. With the price of letting go of your undivided attention? Hmm, doesn't sound too great. He assumed, he can hire a wet nurse just in case. Still, he desired to see you round with his child, feet swollen as you struggled to walk around. You do not have to worry, he, your husband would joyfully oblige in carrying you in his arms. You were more than perfect, he couldn't even imagine just how beautiful you'll look, during and after carrying your child.

It was destined. You'd extend his lineage or no one else.

You were flawless then why were you causing such errors? Contradicting. It was his question until he started to take a note in your behaviour, and he found–

Sukuna stood up from his throne, walking down the steps of bones, presumably of the ones he killed. They act as a pretty show piece, according to him.

The court resonated with his footsteps, each one carrying a promise of death. The man's struggles seized once he was harshly pulled up by his hair, his eyes met with Sukuna's.

"Yo-your high–ness," The man fumbled with his words, a spine chilling sensation going down his frame.

"Time's wasting," Sukuna said, his glare pointed. The fury evident, though his exterior was calm. "Comply if you don't wish death."

The man nodded frequently, his fingertips trembled with anticipation and horror. "Ye-yes, your highness. It's an honour to s-serve you." The man fell to his feet as he was dropped. Sukuna dismissed the extra company with a wave of his hand.

"Rise," He declared.

The man still on his knees, raises his head. "What can I- I do for you, your highness?"

—》《—

"May I make a request, my lord?"

Sukuna's eyes flickered to you, yours not meeting his. Knelt before him, you gracefully poured the sake in his ochoko.

"Speak."

He marked the squinting in your irises, fingertips trembled when you put the vessel down. Your shoulders rose and fell before you gazed at him, reluctantly. He couldn't help but find your antics inhumanely amusing.

"Would you be kind enough... to bring me this-" You paused for a fleeting moment. "This herb called... aloe vera?"

—》《—

"Aloe vera," Sukuna tilted his head aside, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest. "What use does it have?"

"We-well, my lord it's used for heal-healing purposes, burns, cuts, rashes... it heals injuries, yes." He answered, taking a gulp. There was other uses too yet his head was alike a blank canvas, before such a formidable strength. He wasn't even aware if it was satisfactory or why the King of Curses needed to know about such a measly plant. But if it meant he could see the sun for another day then he'll just give whatever he could offer. "I-It can also be used to– to make me-medicated food. N-not a delicacy... I might add."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, "That's it?"

"N-no, my lord. There- it can cure diges-"

"In pregnancy."

The man stiffened, his mouth parting a tad bit. A whisper leaving his lips, "Yo-your highness...?"

Pregnancy, menstruation, considered taboo. A matter regarding women, spoken in the inner chambers, the men should remain ignorant. A topic whispered in ears not spoken aloud in any hall, let alone the royal court. Certainly, Sukuna was aware of this societal construct, yet he didn't care. The society and its idiotic rules could go to hell. He just needed answers.

"Speak," Sukuna's voice was louder, deeper when the man before him fidgeted in his spot due to discomfort - on speaking such a topic.

"It-Its a... your highness, I d-don't think you-"

"Insolent bastard," His fumbling was interrupted by Sukuna. The warning evident in his profanity. His face grew darker, the four irises glowing with impending danger akin Satan himself. "If you so much as want to live, fucking speak."

The man's blood ran cold as on cue, face turning a shade paler as if winter had started to pool in. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes, "Forgive me, your highness! I will speak, I will- yes- aloe vera its-" He heaved out a deep breath, an attempt to slow down his beating heart. "Any fo-form of it is ill-suited during pregnancy... it can cause... cause pe-pelvic haemorrhage leading to... to misc-"

"Miscarriage?"

"Yes, miscarriage... can lead to miscarriage, your highness."

A profound silence prevailed. Not a soul spoke neither was a footstep heard. Not a leaf rustled or the howling winds tapped on the window pane - assumed, mother nature had halted its elements from making any noise.

The stakes were high yet an flicker of courage alighted in the man as he raised his head up to glance at Sukuna, "My lor-"

The man's head tumbled down before he could even complete.

He couldn't scream, he couldn't beg, he couldn't apologize, he couldn't even blink. All he could do was watch. Watch as his beheaded body fell limp before his eyes. Watch as the blood poured out like waterfalls staining the carpet with its hues. The red marred bones protruded out amidst the flesh, globs of blood was gushing out of his severed voice box. His body jerked, the remnants of conscious nerves trying to survive.

It was a neat cut. A heavenly sight.

The world started to blur in. And before he knew it, the light was gone from his eyes.

Sukuna didn't even spare a glance as he marched out of his court.

Uraume approached the body, a few maids accompanying them. They casted a disapproving glare at the corpse.

"Not edible, dispose of it."

You didn't see or hear from Sukuna for a week.

He didn't visit your chambers at night neither was he present when you sat down for your meals. Even his energy was alike a hushed whisper which would remind you of his presence in the residence, but not reveal himself to you. For some reason, it had you in an unease.

No, you certainly did not miss his presence. But his absence just made the surroundings almost suffocating. There was the looming threat that something had happened or something were to happen. One worse than the other.

Silence was never uneventful.

Insinuating the courage, you had once inquired Uraume about his absence. Presenting a polite bow, they answered, "Sukuna sama doesn't want to be disturbed."

Disturbed... as if he wasn't the cause of all disturbances. A natural disaster in himself. You resisted the urge to scoff and uttered a meek line of gratitude before going about your day. (That extended with you strolling down the halls or garden or just be in your chambers and read the few books Sukuna had bought you).

On the very same day the dark commenced. While you were mesmerized by the fall of twilight over the garden, you heard his voice.

"Don't you love playing with poison, wife?"

The sudden question made you halt your steps, you weren't even aware that he was present–shielded his aura, presumably. You turned around, raising an eyebrow with bewilderment.

"Pardon, my lord?"

Sukuna snorted, walking up to you, a smirk played on his lips. You had to make the effort of tilting your head to gaze up at him. His towering figure loomed over you, his lower left hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You love poisons, don't you? Or in your words herbs."

Your shoulders grew rigid, eyes widening with realization, a sharp breath hitting your throat. Your fingertips trembled with anticipation. You were sure to be discreet in your affairs, using the isolation he subjected you to at its best. Yet he knew. It was bad. Very much so. And what were to happen now? What would he do to you?

Another night of horror where your screams would be unheard, your resistance proved to be futile, where you'd be left to suffer alone, where another shard of your remaining soul would be plunged by him. Another night where you'd again play into his whims... Or something more vile, leaving you physically disabled? Perhaps, even death...

The foremost was the most heinous one. You silently prayed that he wouldn't resort to that. If you were to be subjected to his torment then you wished he'd just kill you, liberating you for once and for all. Even so, survival is what the mind wants. Piecing through any tactic just to live another day. The play for now should be denial.

Sukuna's affections for you worked as a double edged sword. You aimed to take advantage of it, in every way possible. You instilled a bit of courage, standing your ground, you spoke "I don't understand what you're trying to instigate, my lord."

He looked down on you, a coy smile uplifting his lips. He threaded his fingers through the knot of your kimono, leaning down next to your ear, he inhaled your scent. His lips brushing over your neck.

"I do not believe so, wife." He murmured, his warm breath hitting your skin, a range of goosebumps rising over your arm. "In fact, I think you clearly know, what I speak about."

Before you could let a word out, he straightened up, turning around, he pushed you to walk with him. His large hand still covering your back.

"Come, let me entertain you."

You were walking to the gallows.

Not literally, but you were sure your end was near.

The wooden floors creaked with footfalls. Each step heavier than the previous. You hesitantly glimpsed at Sukuna, his gaze was far ahead. Not a word left his mouth in this while. Only his hold remained firm. He pushed you forward every moment your step faltered.

Your breath hitched when you turned a corner - the right wing. A rule, you could say. Sukuna made it clear since the day he held you captive brought you home – never step a foot in the right wing. Despair drowned your curiosity that time, you didn't question, least bothered to. Even later, you didn't dare to defy him; courtesy to the pain you were subjected to once.

Still, you could make the wild guess of what happened in there. The muffled screams kept you awake at midnight, it was easy to put the puzzle pieces together. There he revelled with the sick pleasure of tormenting your kind.

He stopped before a pair of oak doors. That's when he glanced at you, for the first time in a long while. For a moment, he stared at you with an emotion you couldn't decipher. The next moment, he pulled out the Kanzashi from your hair, letting your strands tousle down.

You flinched, pushing away the curls which clouded your vision. Sukuna held the pin in his hand, holding your gaze. He was unmoving.

What happened to him?

"My lord," You called. "What are you-"

"Stay quiet," He handed you the kanzashi back, adjusting your hand to hold it as if it were a dagger. Turning to the door, he spared you a glance. "Don't speak a word." With that, the doors opened.

Dark.

It was dark save for the light of the lantern which illuminated the room. He shoved you forward, the door locking behind as he stood aside you.

"One bite."

Huh? Bite? What did he mean? You slightly turned your head towards him but you were stopped in your tracks. It wasn't only you and Sukuna in this room, seems you had a guest. More appropriate word? A Captive.

Your eyes were wide open. On the corner of the room, sat a young boy, not more than a adolescent - blindfolded. Restrained by chains, his wrists and ankles were cuffed with metal. A small whimper left his lips as he registered the presence of both of you.

You were about to speak but then his words rang in your mind.

Don't speak a word.

Sukuna gripped your wrist, leading you to the boy, "One bite, in the arm."

He wasn't talking to you. To the boy, he kept his eyes. You marked how the boy flinched. The metals clanking on contact.

He turned to you then, motioning to the pin in your hand then the boy's arm. Realization hit you. You tried to shake your head, refuse; but one glare of his and you were compelled. Reluctantly, you turned around, trudging to the boy.

Something was wrong.

You could feel it. Why... why would he want you to stab this poor boy? A picture of misery, he was. You noted he didn't have any sign of bruises in his body - peculiar. Yet, his fragile state was enough to give you a hint that he had been here for days. Perhaps, starved too. The tension was high and all you wanted was to leave this room, in an instant.

Fine, if Sukuna wanted you to just stab the boy. You'd do it. Missing the vital points which could end his life. One, he said. You'll miss the point and done. Its not upon you that you'd pierce the wrong place. His instructions weren't specific—that'd be your excuse.

He won't die. Not from your hands.

You gently held the boy's arm, angling the pointers on the muscles. You drove it in.

Miscalculation.

The boy's body instantly stiffened, a gut wrenching scream erupted from his mouth. He thrashed around, swinging his legs and arms, his body twitching violently.

You recoiled back soon, yanking out the pin, stepping away on instinct. You watched with terror.

Foam rose up the boy's mouth, his shrieks pierced your eardrums. The fluid dripped down his jaw, marring his clothes. He clutched the area where you stabbed him. Scratching at it with all his might. The sound of flesh ripping filled your ears as the boy ruthlessly, tore the muscles.

You were stunted. You couldn't speak or move. You weren't chained but you felt as if a thousand shackles bore you down.

The next seconds were a blur. The screams started to die down, his body losing it's color. Sooner than you could grasp, did the room turn silent again.

The boy was dead.

"Enjoyed the show, wife?"

You slapped your hand over your mouth, stumbling a few steps back. You couldn't tear your eyes off the young boy, bile rose up your throat as the room started to spin.

"Wh-what did you-"

No- you couldn't throw up, whatever second thought it was, it refrained you from crumbling to your knees and make a mess. Shivers went down your spine, you struggled to stand straight. The stench of the corpse and the expunging liquids started to fill your nostrils. You were almost on the verge to lose consciousness.

"What... did you do?"

Your eyes flickered to Sukuna. He stood tall, not a sign of emotion on his mien. You regret ever considering mirth to the worst feature on him, cause none was more terrifying.

And he was watching you.

It reminded you of the time, you first saw him - covered with blood of the lives he had taken, down the river bank. Victim of naivety and ignorance, you didn't know any better than to not let him see you. Wandering towards the peculiar beast, even when a gut wrenching terror asked you to run; you were stubborn. You had asked - are you alright?

"What did you do?" You repeated again.

Tilting his head, he kept his unwavering gaze fixed on you. "As a matter of fact, I didn't do anything, wife." He paused, letting the horror shadow your features, "It was all you."

You needed to run.

The kanzashi– which was till then clasped in your hand firmly– fell down. A clank, you heard.

One step.

One step towards the door. He is standing afore you, the fingers of his upper right arm ran through your open hair, tangling in the roots, he yanked your head back.

"I don't remember, giving you the permission to leave."

Tears prickled your eyes as you tried to break free. Sukuna was having none of it. He dragged you by your hair towards the corpse of the boy. Your nails jabbed into his wrist while whimpers of anguish left your mouth.

Sukuna shoved you down to your knees, tugging your hair back - you were sure, they will be ripped off if he yanked with any more pressure - he made you glance at its face. He crouched beside you. With a flick of his finger, he ripped the blindfold out of the boy.

"Dare to shut your eyes."

Compliance had become second nature.

The body was rigid, skin turning blue. The veins on his arms were bulged out, his mouth wide open, filled with foam, trickling down his cheek, drying on it.

The sight caused you to gag.

Horrifying. His bloodshot eyes were wide open, protruding out of the sockets. Irises dilated in shape, which you considered humanly impossible. But what had your heart hammering in your chest wasn't the vivid details you saw on the corpse. It was the fact, that you recognized the boy. Son of that distant elder cousin, you'd seen once or twice in a year.

"Look at that, love." Sukuna cooed in your ear, forcing you to face the corpse.

You shook your head violently, nails dug into his wrist - desperate to escape. Your heart thumped inside your ribcage, you could hear it in your ears, your guts twisted in numerous ways as sweatbeads trailed down your forehead.

"You did that."

No. No, you didn't. You didn't do it. It wasn't you.

"You killed him."

No, you didn't... he didn't die because of you.

"Take a good look. See what you've done."

You vigorously shook your head. Denying all of his claims cause... cause they were... false, yes, false. They were false.

"No," You stated once you found your voice. "N-no, no... I- no."

Sukuna hummed, twisting a knot in your hair, "Yes, you. You did it."

No. You were innocent. You weren't to be blamed. It wasn't you.

It was... him.

"No, no, I didn't," You refused again, standing your ground. Moving your eyes towards him, you gritted your teeth. "No, I didn't do it. I didn't do anything. It was you."

"Really? How so?"

Fire burnt in your eyes. It was enough. He couldn't make you believe which you didn't commit - you didn't kill him.

"Poison," You said with conviction lacing your tone. "He was poisoned, a stab wouldn't procure such a reaction."

"Observant as ever," He mused, quirking up an eyebrow. A faint smile curled up on his lips. "Still, it doesn't gratify the fact that you were the one to end his life."

Blood boiled inside you, surging through your veins like lava. He had no right to accuse you of something. You didn't kill him, he couldn't make you believe it, whatsoever may happen.

"I may have stabbed him with the kanzashi, but that didn't have any trace of poison in it. I am-"

"Sure of it?"

You could only glare at him. He was toying with you. Tugging the strings of your conscience but you won't have any of it. "I am," You confirmed, staring at him without any falters. "I held it... you held it. If it was really drenched with toxicant as lethal as that, we- we both would be dead."

His grip loosened from your hair, hand falling down. The corners of his eyes crinkled, the smile turning into a smirk.

"It was you," You continued. "You did something to him at first and-"

Sukuna broke into a chortle of laughter. Far from jovial, more so sinister, filled with sheer malevolence. He gripped your jaw, pulling you closer to himself. His sharp canines glinted in the dim light.

"You just keep on fascinating me, wife."

Each second with him was revolting. Just his touch alone had your skin crawling. Yet, you couldn't let him know he has the upper hand.

"We had a pact," You stated firmly. His game was disgusting. What was he trying to do? What was his goal? "If I stay with you, you wouldn't lay a finger on my family, then- h-how could-"

"I would still stand on the ground, that I didn't do anything." He replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "It was all you, wife. I can assure you that I didn't go back in my words." His canines glinted while he smiled. "Not a flick of pain. Save for..." He paused, his eyes widening, the carmine irises glowed in the dark. "Save for telling him, he'd be killed by a snake bite."

"There was no venom on my pin."

"Know so," He confirmed, a playful smirk on his visage. You wished you could read minds, if possible only of him, that'd been enough. Then where did poison come from? You wanted to question but he beat you to it.

"His fear turned into poison."

You blinked. Once. Twice. You knew he had an urge to play mind games but this was ridiculous. You questioned, shell-shocked, "What?"

"He let his fear get the better of him, assuming your pin to be a snake. He believed it." He explained while you listened without so much as a word. "His conscience caused his body to give out the exact reactions, he imagined. A shock, you might say. That caused his death."

His game was disgusting. If he thought, he could just give you any excuse as this and let you believe his accusations then he was mad wrong. You gritted your teeth, yanking your face away from his grip. For a second, you saw all of his eyes opening wide with surprise. But that didn't extinguish the fire burning in you.

He reached out, dragging you towards him via the arm. A glare resting on his face. "What did I tell about refusi-"

"I don't believe you," You cut him off, hands clenched into fists. It was the first time in a long time, you lost your composure in front of him. No, you wouldn't play as his doll anymore. He broke his promise, its only fair that you do so. "I don't believe a single word you say. You- you did something, you must have. Fear, belief, whatever the fuck, something as trivial as that-"

"So you think fear is trivial, wife?" He sighed, his clutch in your arm remained firm. The rough callouses of his palm, rubbed over your skin. "And here I thought, you might be different than the rest. But you managed to drop below my expectations."

"Maybe that's what I love about you, darling." He continued.

Disgust arose in you yet again. Love. As if he had any of that. He wasn't capable of love. Not in this lifetime. Never.

He spoke again, "Times you are the smartest I have seen, then you speak such blasphemy which would even embarrass the Gods you worship. Your silence was awarded by him leaning near your ear. He twisted a curl of your hair between his fingers. "Fear, wife..." He whispered to you. "Fear is a mind killer. It makes you believe anything. The small drop of poison which contaminates all the water."

"In the end, belief and fear are sides of the same coin," His top two eyes, flickered to the corpse of the boy. "I made him consume the poison of fear and you-" He turned to you again. "You made him believe it... so, in a way, yes. Yes, I did do something. Save for the part of ending his life. Though I didn't break my part of our pact." A smirk tugged on his lips. "You were the one who killed him. Isn't that great?"

Your breath hitched, throat gone dry. You gazed at him, eyes wide open. Your mind was a blank canvas.

Fear, poison, belief, killing...

He made you kill someone. An innocent boy who didn't even do anything.

Why won't he much rather just end your life?

Sukuna pulled away from you, standing up, he walked over to the lantern placed in the room. The stench of the rotting corpse had long ago started to pool in.

"You made me kill him." You whispered, still knelt, staring at the floor. When greeted with silence, you questioned again, a tone higher, "You made me kill him."

"And?"

His nonchalance had always been infuriating to you.

You could feel him standing a few steps behind you. "If you really wanted to kill my kin, you should've just told me. Getting your herbs was a tiring chore." You didn't miss the emphasis he put on, herbs. The roll of his eyes while speaking floated before your eyes even though you couldn't see him; the expression must had turned to a smirk later. "However, the taste of taking a life– isn't it delicious, wife?"

Guilt gnawed at you, tearing you internally. Your shoulders trembled as you let out ragged breaths, eyes fixed on the bloodied arm of the boy. The same arm where the kanzashi pierced, the muscles torn apart, blood drying on it due to the boy's onslaught. Nausea overrode your senses, bile rose up your throat and the next moment you were throwing up. The wastes ran down your mouth, your nails dug into the wooded boards – bruising your fingertips and chipping the nails. You didn't realize Sukuna stepping up to your side, pulling your hair back while you were caught into the ordeal.

A disapproving grunt left his mouth after you were finished, yanking you up with your wrist. He pulled you towards the door. "Com-"

"No." Your heels remained firm on the ground. You refused him before you could even think. He turned towards you slightly, a scowl resting on his features before he pivoted around. He cast a glare upon you but before he could speak, your mouth opened again.

"You're even lower than scum." Your jaw ticked, hands clenching into fists. "You made me kill an innocent boy. Someone who might have done nothing to you, You– You disgust me, Sukuna."

Done you were with the respect, he demanded. If that angered him, made him want to rip out your heart and watch the life drain from your eyes. He was most welcome.

But it looks like, he wasn't resorting to any of that.

"You made me a murderer." You urged, staying strong in your stance. "You turned me into you."

His eyebrow twitched, a wave of mirth washed over him. "You were always like me, wife."

"I am nothing-"

"You are. You are like me. You are no saint, as you think so of yourself. " He said, leaving no room for argument. His lips pressed tight into a thin line.

Yet, you refused to believe that. You were nothing like him. Couldn't even dream so. You were not him.

"You kill children in your womb, I kill them after they're born. How is it so different?"

"It is different." You yelled, your jaw clenched, teeth baring out. "This world needs no more of your lineage, it needs no more of you." You jabbed your pointer finger on his chest, tears pooling into your eyes. You refused to shed them. "You kill for your own sake, I do not."

"Then who do you kill for?"

"For everyone." The faint snort of his reached your ears. You couldn't decipher what he found so delightful in this.

"Playing God, are we?" He mocked causing your vexation to rise.

"Maybe I am. For the least, I am not killing innocent people like you."

From where such defiance arose, you weren't sure of. Perhaps, all the frustration, fright, terror which accumulated till now had reached its limit. Moreover, Sukuna's provocation must be the fuel to the fire.

You might be left bleeding– No, you would be left bleeding. You welcomed it with open arms.

"Careful," Sukuna pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. "All Gods aren't worshipped."

He was enjoying himself. In all honesty, your obedience was getting too monotonous. This was better. Your defiance was amusing. Arousing, if there's to add. If he knew, letting you end a few lives would have this effect then he would have resorted to this long ago.

"Better than you." You shoved his hand away, "You are nothing more than a wretched, two-faced curse destroying all of our lives."

He noted your scowl, the way your lips were shut tight, your eyebrows crinkled together. Reasons evident, all he desired was to pull you into his arms smash his lips against yours. Taste the very essence of your being. Consume you wholly, just the way you are. So that in the end, your name, your taste, your scent would be engraved in his very soul. Without your mention, he wouldn't be complete.

But he refrained from giving in now. His desire extended to a far more sinister route. "I wonder..."

What would it be like to break your conviction? What would it be like to break you?

Oh, he knew.

Would it be right moment to let you know? Maybe he should wait for another, more appropriate time.

Hmm, perhaps he should. But no.

He let you play these games for too long. Tired of this game plan, he was. Maybe, you would just come to your senses if he let you know. So he let the words, flow out:

"I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay siege to your life?"

Worth everything.

Sukuna watched as your face lost its color. The previous boldness you presented him with was replaced by a mask of confusion and. Such a pretty sight, it was. To see you, falter from your stand. Second guess, yourself, be in denial then rage consumes you. And you look at him, like he was the forbearer of your misery. (He is).

Oh, how good he has you memorized.

Even the littlest of reactions you contort on your mien, on your mannerisms; everything has him intrigued. You have him intoxicated.

"You know the ones, the people... your people, for whom you play this God."

Sukuna wished he could capture this moment. He'd have the chance to take a glimpse of it again, whenever he wished to. The horrified look on your face as the weight of his words started to sink in.

Would you still look like this if he tells you the terror he bestowed on them who tried to steal you away from him? What would you say if he vividly describes each imagery of how he slowly, agonizingly burnt them, severed them and tormented them? Leaving them nothing but fragments beyond recognition.

You were his. All of you belonged to him. Without his sanction, no one could even see you, let alone touch you. Ah- just how many sorcerers perished from his hands, the number of villages, bathed in blood; save for yours. (Courtesy to that stupid pact, he forged with you)

Something had told him, that there'd be a better time to put an end to the pitiful lives of your kin.

"Can't speak? What caused so, darling?" His tone was laced with smugness, a twisted joy elicited in him. "Fearful that your play amounted to nothing?"

Your jaw ticked with anger. You were furious. "I don't believe you. You are lying."

Your trust on humans was commendable, he'd give you that. However, there's stark contrast between faith and blind belief. You were inclining towards the latter.

So, what do they do when words fail to convey message? Oh right, you give them a prime example.

"Let me just show it to you then, wife."

It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted - he needed you to know that no place other than his arms would be as comforting. Even if that meant breaking your very soul, so be it.

You were home.

One moment, Sukuna held your gaze. The next, you are standing before your hearth.

Toes dipping into the familiar black soil, the land where you ran and played during your childhood. Your familial home stood steps away from you. Still looked the same except the visible cracks on the wall, a layer of dust on top of the door and the woods looked worn out. However, what caught your eyes weren't the flaws of your home but the familiar older woman walking into your home.

"Mother…"

She stilled all of a sudden, rotating on her heels, her eyes landed on you. Shell shocked, that's what she was with the widened eyes and parted lips. A small smile curved up on your lips, she still looked the same except the few grey hairs and wrinkles aside her eyes.

"Mother," You called again, taking a step towards her. "I am back."

Sooner than you expected, her eyebrows scrunched up, mouth curving down when she finally registered your presence. You weren't some illusion or her mind playing tricks. "What are you here for?"

The disdainful tone caused you to flinch. You didn't expect this. Returning home, you dreamt of it to be filled with tears of joy and warm embraces. Not this… whatever, she was presenting you with. But- But its fine, you have returned after a two whole years. She must have been worried. The reason of her apprehension. God, you had a lot making up to do.

"Well, you know," You chuckled lightly, scratching the back of your neck. "Back… just back. I have returned."

"Found your way after two years?" She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at you with a look you didn't want to recognize.

You nodded, "Yes. How could I forget my way? Our address, its-"

You were interrupted when your name was spit out from her mouth. Her glare on you was palpable, "I know what it is. What are you here for?"

Her fury even made your skin crawl with fear. You were often on the receiving end of her glare when you were a child, given by your tendencies to run around and cause trouble for others. Yet, those glares, were none like this. This- this- you didn't want to name what it was.

"You are angry," You don't know if its directed towards your mother or yourself as you hold onto the last bit of fragments that not all is lost. "I get it, I really do." You stood on your toes, attempting to look behind her, into your house. "Where's father? Tell him, I am-"

"No more."

As if the air was knocked out of your lungs.

"What?" Your neck craned towards her so fast, it might have left a sprain. Yet, that was the least of your concern. "What do you mean by no more?"

"No more means no more." Your mother's sigh fell heavy on the air, words carried the weight of the world. Laid with pain underneath.

"How- when? Wha-what happened?" You couldn't wrap your mind around the new discovery. No one told you such. Who could've guessed? Such an ordeal to occur in your absence. And what might she be going through, without you. You didn't even get the chance to talk to him, one last time.

"A year ago," She confessed, her voice conveyed her lament and sorrow. Her words felt like a hammered blow on the fragile façade of hope, you had intricately crafted for yourself. However, she wasn't done. Her eyes held scorn, lips curled up to a sneer. "Aren't you satisfied? You finally made your mark. Must tell you," Her voice, once filled with love held nothing save for contempt, directed at you. "Good game, you played, dear." She spit the endearment as if, it were poison.

"No, I- I never wanted any of this. What are you even talking about?" A trembling footfall towards her, you whispered, "M-mother-"

"Don't you dare call me that."

The weight of her judgement felt heavy on you, pressing down, suffocating you alike chains.

"You are no daughter of mine."

You weren't aware since when the tears had sprang up your eyes, breaking the barricades, they shed down. Your throat burnt as you struggled to even breathe, clutching your chest - a searing pain shooting in your heart. Your heart was shattering from the ultimate rejection from your own flesh and blood.

"While you're at it, know this." Your mother continued.

The next words were like a blow to the gut, each syllable lined with the weight of revelations. Ones that hung in the air like a funeral shroud.

"In his last moments, his only regret was bringing a daughter like you in this world."

This night just doesn't seem to end, does it?

You were left as a hollow shell. Tethering the steps away from the home you were no more welcomed. Exhaustion reigned heavy on you. Physically and mentally.

Where were you going? You didn't know. Just where your feet would take you, there would you go. Perhaps, you can return to Sukuna. Would he take you back? Most probably not. Considering, your earlier outburst, adding to the fact that you refused to give him what you want; he might just discard you as you proved to be useless.

Funny. It was so damn funny. Once, you wished to escape from his hands whatsoever the price yet now… now you considered returning to him.

You could hear him calling you pathetic. Disgusting. More disgusting, that you agreed with him.

You were truly pathetic.

But before you could spiral down the void of self-hatred, a voice- nah, multiple voices startled you.

"There she is, parading around some meek, innocent girl." A scoff is added. "You are far from it."

"The nerve of you to just walk back into our lives after you betrayed us."

Your neck cranes to your left, an old man - the village elder with a few other men and women following behind; they approached you. "Excuse me?"

"Who do you think you are?" A woman's cry reached your ears. "Returning after you turned your back on us."

You flinched at the accusation thrown. What could be possibly be instigating? To all your knowledge, you were walking in this- in your village after two long years. Anger, disdain and accusatory glares clouded their features. If your mother's insults weren't enough to pierce through your heart then it certainly did now, with all the people, you once called your own to look at you like you were the monster.

You summoned the least bit of courage you had, squared your shoulders and started, "I'd have you know-"

"Traitors don't get to speak." At the center of the crowd was the village elder. He was the pillars of your hamlet, revered for his wisdom and guidance, but now he looked akin a judge ready to deliver his sentence upon you. A sentence which would push you more into this conundrum. "You've been cavorting to that monster. Disgusting."

"I am no traitor." You retorted soon. "You can't accuse me of such when you don't ev-"

"Save it for someone who would care, whore."

The curse had your mouth parted in disbelief, horror etched upon your mien. Sooner than you could compose yourself, did whispers of agreement rippled through the crowd which branded you as a traitor.

"You are just as twisted as him."

"Get out of here if you so much as hold your life dear."

"Don't play as the innocent bitch, now."

The accusation hung in the air like a dark cloud, poisoning the atmosphere with its venomous hatred. Your breath was caught in your throat as you searched desperately for words to defend yourself; the crowd's hostility rendered you speechless. But amidst the cacophony of condemnation, one voice stood out above the rest.

I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay down yours?

Really? Were you really recalling his words now? Now of all times… You truly were pathetic.

For one moment, You just stayed silent - letting their accusations bore you down. Somewhere you wished all of it were just a nightmare. You'll soon wake up on your bed beside Sukun- fuck! Since when did you start to expect to wake up with him? He- He was toying with your mind. This was the only result. But the fact that this was your thought process had you recoil back.

The next moment, everything made sense.

These accusations were stemmed from the fact that you- you were proclaimed to be the wife of the King of curses. Your unwillingness to return, given for the pact you forged with Sukuna, was taken as your cue that you betrayed your family, your home, your people.

Your family despised you. Your people despised you. The very same people you chose to protect were turning their back on you.

Did they truly try to lay down your life?

Amidst your plight, you didn't register when the village elder marched up to you. "Didn't you hea-" His trial at speech was cut off. Nay, his lifeline was cut off. (Humorous, isn't it?)

Numerous red lines appeared on his body before it burst off into a globs of flesh and blood. Blood which splashed onto you, marring your visage and attire with its hues.

He was here. You knew it. You could feel it.

For some reason, it filled you with a sense of relief.

However, your people were on the other end of the rope. The eyes which afore held hatred and disgust, they were now filled with horror and fright. In this reverie as the villagers started to flee, a torch tumbled on the ground - lighting the grass on fire. The winds showed no mercy, as the howls increased, so did the flames.

Provoking him was never the right move.

You were digging your own grave.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw were the burning huts, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent.

No one touches what's mine.

The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

The sparks danced over your irises as everything went down in the crimson hues. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that - tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again. In this trance of insanity, only one thing held your sight when you attempted to turn - The eyes tinted with crimson.

All of a sudden, something burnt inside you too.

Unbridled rage consumed you. Your chest heaved up and down as ragged breath left your mouth. Their words came back to you, ringing in your ears as if you were pushed into a void.

Who do you think you are? Returning after you turned your back on us.

Would this bitch even be alive if you prioritized yourself?

Don't play as the innocent bitch, now.

Is that the thanks you get for trying to protect them?

Traitors don't get to talk.

Traitor… fine, you'd be the traitor.

With caution you took one step towards him. No reaction. Your chance - you took another. Then another and another. You stood before him, with nothing save for a void etching your features. Amusement flickered over him, the corner of his lip curled up.

"Saw it for yourself wife?"

Seemed like silence was your go-to response lately. From your peripheral, you saw the burning houses, the distant screams reached you. For some reason, the screams were almost soothing. You revelled in this. Their gut wrenching shrieks were like a balm to your essence.

Their predicament was your solace.

Sounded like someone you knew. Someone who had warned you about them but you chose to remain ignorant. Sickening… were you becoming like him?

You were always like me, wife.

You could laugh. Maybe you were like him.

"Let's forge another pact?" You offered, keeping your eyes pinned on him.

"A pact?"

"A pact."

A smirk curved up his lips, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest, "Humour me, love."

The smirk wasn't directly for you. But he did. So you returned it back. One with an equal malicious intent. Cause in that moment, no second thoughts, no doubts clouded your mind. And so, you uttered the blasphemy:

"You kill them all, each and everyone. In return, I will stay with you, give you an heir. Whatever you want from me."

A year later

Screams died down after a gruelling ten hours.

"Good news, Sukuna sama. It's a boy."

A/N: Honestly, I was almost done with this fic, long ago but while writing the climax, I kept chickening out with all the self-doubts but then I just wrote what I wanted. I do understand if the ending is not up to your liking and I sincerely apologize for it.

However, thanks for reading up till the end. I enjoyed writing this a lot. Some feedback is appreciated <3

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i-cant-sing · 3 months ago

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I just imagine Baldwin in Heaven going batshit insane whenever Y/N timejumps because erm??

"WHERE DID MY ANGEL GO ITS BEEN A FEW CENTURIES SINCE THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE- oh there you are lol, in the victorian era... YOU GOT PROPOSED!?!?!? AND YOU SAID YYEESSS???!?!? 🤬🤬😭😭"

no cause im crying thinking about baldwin just being an embodiment of a golden retirever, wagging his tail excitedly as he asks God if He could grant him his angel back???? like he just gives God the biggest, bluest eyes and goes- "please God? can I have my darling angel? can you just drop her in my lap again? its been sooo long-" and God just gives him the next big thing- live transmission of u time travelling!

and now he's just lying on his stomach, flapping his legs back and forth as he watches u go through one calamity after another, nearly crying and dying all over again everytime u cry, cheering u for escaping one love interest after another as it further cements in his head that YOU KNOW- your soul knows that you belong with him.

and then u saying yes to silas? i like to imagine baldwin being a "delulu is the solulu" kind of person, or. "the grass is greener where i water it" guy and he thinks u said yes because you miss baldwin and u know that silas, like every other man besides baldwin (aka ur soulmate) will eventually disappoint u, break ur heart, betray u and then kill u!

so this just ur way of speeding things up so that u could meet baldwin ur beloved soon!

#yandere baldwin #baldwin iv #baldwin #king baldwin x reader #time traveller au #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere x reader

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simplegenius042 · 4 months ago

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Music Monday, WIP Wednesday & Last Line

Tagged by @cassietrn and @voidika

Tagging @imogenkol @inafieldofdaisies @adelaidedrubman @shellibisshe @aceghosts @socially-awkward-skeleton @noodlecupcakes @josephseedismyfather @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @raresvtm @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries @nightwingshero and @lulu2992 + anyone else who'd like to join.

Got songs for The UnTitledverse, Wings And Horns and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore, with a snippet for a new FC5 The Silver Chronicles WIP as well as a last line for You Make My Heart Go Doki Doki Literature Club!. You can listen to the songs and read the WIPs snippets below:

Legend is important. It's part of history and culture. It should always be preserved in the present to better understand our past to make way to the future. Now many of my series divulge into legends and myths and old stories. Some of them outright make reverence to events long passed (the Extermination Purge Wars, the Big Bangs, the fall of the Houses of the Old Gods and the foundation the Time Bureau Authority, etc). Sometimes all that was in the past emerges into the present (with the likes of the Arachnoids, Exterminators, the Old Kin and more). However, one historical text in my series is the abolishment of the (while benevolent, very flawed) Soulmate System, which my Original Work Wings And Horns is set in. The plot is that more and more mortals are being discovered without soulmarks (which come in the form of marks, initials, countdowns, etc, depending on the person and timeline), so the New Gods send Archangel Metatron and an Angel of Death cadet, Azriel, to investigate the phenomenon to see whether it is natural or manufactured. Metatron wants to preserve and fix the system because he believes mortals require it, meanwhile Azriel just wants the credit so her soul can be reincarnated at an earlier date. The duo behind the soulmark removals is a Sloth Demon by the name of Xiang Ba'al and his adopted daughter, a Sinner's soul by the name of Jezebel. This cat and mouse chase is what ultimately dictates the decision the New Gods are debating; should mortals require on the guidance on something as small as love? Or should mortals find the love of their life on their own, a small step to gifting them a responsibility that had drastically the status quo beforehand thousands of years ago; that being, Free Will?

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"Legends never die When the world is calling you Can you hear them screaming out your name? Legends never die."

"They never lose hope when everything's cold And the fighting's near." "It's deep in their bones They'll ride into smoke when the fire is fierce." "Oh, pick yourself up 'cause

Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die!"

"Legend never dies They're written down in eternity But you'll never see the price it costs The scars collecting all of their lives."

"When everything's lost They pick up their hearts and avenge defeat Before it all starts They suffer through harms to touch and dream." "Whoa, pick yourself up 'cause

Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die!"

"Legends never die." "When the world is calling out your name." "Begging you to fight." "Oh, oh, oh, pick yourself up Once more, pick yourself up 'cause

Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die!"

"Legends never die."

Walking Fate is a fic series in The UnTitledverse based in Telltale's The Walking Dead video game. The fic classically follows (most) of the game/s, but does diverge a bit off with pivotal focus on Clementine and an OC of mine whose the runaway son of Darling Enterprises, a multi-business juggernaut, Malcrum Darling, and their relationship. They're definitely not "tragic star-crossed lovers". I'd never do such a thing in The Walking Dead universe. Here's a song about Malcrum's feelings towards Clementine that's definitely in no shape or form supposed to be interpreted as inno- I mean twisted. Enjoy!

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"Hey, he-ey-ey, he-he-hey

Your lipstick stains On the front lobe of my left side brains I knew I wouldn't forget you And so I went and let you blow my mind

Your sweet moonbeam The smell of you in every single dream I dream I knew when we collided You're the one I have decided who's one of my kind

Hey, soul sister Ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo The way you move ain't fair you know Hey, soul sister I don't wanna miss a single thing you do, tonight

Hey, he-ey-ey, he-he-hey

Just in time I'm so glad you have a one track mind like me You gave my life direction A game show love connection we can't deny

I'm so obsessed My heart is bound to beat right out my untrimmed chest I believe in you Like a virgin, you're Madonna And I'm always gonna wanna blow your mind.

Hey, soul sister Ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo The way you move ain't fair you know Hey, soul sister I don't wanna miss a single thing you do, tonight."

Throughout A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore, one universal rule is applied; it doesn't matter you are. From a vault dweller who drew the short straw to a psychotic resident of Vault 76 whose a bit too obsessed with wanting to kill her neighbors. A talking Deathclaw to a Ghoul addicted to chems. A brother who wants to uphold the morals his mother taught him in the Wasteland to his amoral sister who kicks old people people and harasses the less fortunate because she's from a wealthy crime family. Because in the end... they have to stand up to Arcane Urias. (Those poor fuckers are gonna die LOL!!!). Because I guess it's the right to do (in the context of self-preservation against the threat of annihilation).

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"Up in the morning, up in the evening Pickin' down clocks when the birds get back to eat Oh, to eat

Up on the mountain, down in the king's lair Pushing these boxes in the heat of the afternoon Oh, afternoon

We were never welcome here We were never welcome here at all No

It's who we are, doesn't matter if we've gone too far Doesn't matter if it's all okay Doesn't matter if it's not our day

Oh, won't you save us, what we are Don't look clear, it's all uphill from here Oh-oh

Up in the attic, down in the cellar Lost in a static, coming back for more Oh, for more

Out with the reason, in with the season Taking down names in my book of jealousy Jealousy

We were never welcome here We were never welcome here at all No!"

An long FC5 WIP for The Silver Chronicles, a new one at that, one I'm naming after the lyrics of David Kushner's "Daylight"; because David Kushner and his songs fit The Silver Chronicles on a scary level. Anyway, the WIP is called Oh, I Love It And I Hate It At The Same Time. You And I Drink The Poison From The Same Vine. Hiding All Our Sins From The Daylight... also known as "the fic where Silva and Paul survive the Tumultite Massacre together and their father/daughter relationship worsens into co-dependence in Montana". Where's Elsa and Persephone at? Well, they'll arrive in the later half of the fic... along with Kamski. Despite the fact their relationship not being "gonna kill you for hurting me even though you were good once", this is far from a good and healthy outcome for both Silva and Paul. In spite of this, they make a dangerous duo (as expected of the two), something the Seeds kind of suspect when they meet them. Enjoy being as lost as the Seeds are in this scene snippet below when Paul interrupts them meeting the Muse herself at a social gathering Pre-Reaping. [Would like to add that the WIP is fairly new, and I'm still working on this scene, and may make a few changes in the near future when I have the time. Expect some mistakes]:

When the question left Joseph's mouth, he felt a pain clutch his shoulder.

With a surprised hitch of his breath, he glanced down to gloved fingers that dug into his shoulder blade with an astonishing unnatural amount of strength.

"Her padre, of course," the soft gleeful voice of the hand's owner answered from beside him, the tone sickeningly sweet.

The stranger's head faced Joseph, his eyes closed to Joseph's seeking blue. His lips curved up in a polite and cheerful smile, one that should be dripping with honey.

The man's eyes briefly opened to reveal burning yellow eyes, bordering on an intense gold. Joseph could not shake the feeling that he's seen those eyes before. A vision perhaps?

Joseph felt himself tense as he recognized the way this man looked at him; the way John sometimes gazed upon the Sinners. A predator that has targeted its prey. And it was Joseph who was already in his clutches.

The man blinked, and the inhuman hue was gone. Instead, a pale hazel resided in its stead. He drifted his eyes away from Joseph, locking with the oblivious grey of the deputy that heralded the coming of the Collapse.

An inexplicable dread coiled in his gut when the man's features genuinely lightened at the sight of his family's judge.

"Ah, il mio piccolo Boa!" he greeted with a beaming grin, letting go of Joseph's aching shoulder to push past him, swiftly making his way to Silva to the Seed's collective daze. The man wrapped his arms over Silva's body, embracing the slightly shorter woman. She seemed delighted by his unexpected appearance.

They both pulled away, though gloved hands remained on the other's arms. The man, though a stranger to the crowd around her, seemed to be a familiar face to Silva. Joseph watched the stranger's hand glide caressing fingers across her dark hair affectionately, following the slivers of the dyed silver trails that reached to her braid, "And how are you fairing this fine hour?"

Silva graced the question with a smile; not the formal and polite smile that served to keep a front up to strangers, but one with an undeniable sincerity shining through.

"Hola to you too, Paul," Silva returned with bemusement, "I was just making some new friends. What brings you over?"

From behind Paul, Joseph could see the man's head tilt. Through the abrupt gesture, Silva's features suggested she understood the meaning, "Um, amigos, Paul."

"Ah," Paul seemed to understood, sneaking an obvious glance towards Joseph and his siblings. There was no trace of gold in those hazel eyes, and the intensity lesser than when he locked eyes with Joseph, but the suspicion directed towards them held a sharp edge to it. Paul let another word roll down his tongue, but the tone matched his gaze, "Amici."

In spite of the growing uneasiness, Joseph willed himself to keep a calm front. He was unsure why Paul off-put him. Joseph regarded the man; his stature was slight taller than Silva's, but similar to Joseph's own height. He was older than all of them, including Jacob; perhaps a decade older. His hair was blonde- or rather, dyed blonde, as Joseph noted the light brown at the sides of his head. His complexion wasn't too dissimilar from Silva's own, maybe deeper.

Joseph took note of the few faded scarring scarcely scattered around his face, and like Silva's, time had laid its healing hands on Paul's own wounds.

Joseph paused his observation, about to make introductions with the askant man when John stepped forward first.

"Yes, we were giving our compliments to Silva for the couscous salad you've brought. She was just telling us it was a co-opted effort," John stated with a grin, one Joseph's had become accustomed to over the years. John's move peaked Paul's interest, his suspicion replaced with curiosity. With his audience captured, Joseph watched approvingly as John continued, a hand outstretched, "I don't believe we've met mister...?"

Recognition shined in Paul's eyes, though it was swept away with a grin bigger than John's as his gloved hand grasped John's in a steady shake, "Yellowjack. But please, just call me Paul. I've always felt the term "mister" gives off the impression I'm married, or worse, boring."

Jacob raised a brow, though refrained from commenting as John replied when letting go of Paul's hand, "Noted. So, are you a friend of Silva's or family?"

Paul shared a glance with Silva and replied, "Family. I'm her padre. I've taken care of her for a long time."

Joseph focused on both Silva and Paul; he couldn't find anything indistinguishably shared between both, though he considered that Silva might just take after her mother than Paul. However, he didn't discard the possibility that Paul was Silva's adoptive father rather than her blood relative.

He kept his thoughts to himself though; reasoning that bringing up the question wouldn't be appropriate so early now. Especially if there's a layer of deception underneath Paul's relation with Silva; he didn't want to unintentionally compromise her safety if Paul held more sin than Joseph already suspected he did.

Silva spoke up, grabbing everyone's attention as she pointed out, "You know Paul, you never answered my question."

Paul seemed to stiffen; clearly a dramatic display rather than serious, as Paul finally answered Silva, "Well, you see, I had caught up with good ol' Virgil before he had to run off for his own business and I saw you speaking to these truffatori impopolari, quindi volevo solo controllarti. You know?"

Joseph and Jacob shared a glance; none of them could interpret the words Paul had sputtered out, though Joseph relaxed when Silva gave Paul a soft smile, "I'm grateful for your concern. But I've got this handled. Gracias, though."

Paul relaxed his stiffness, and Silva brought his attention back towards them, "Now how about some introductions?"

"Great idea," Paul agreed, hazel scanning across the four siblings, "How about we go oldest to youngest?"

Jacob's mouth thinned, blue eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Paul with harsh judgement. Joseph watched as his brother scanned the older man's black and yellow attire. It was flaunting a level of wealth, typical of someone who indulged in vanity. However, that didn't sit right with Joseph. He decided to dwell on it later as he watched Paul and Jacob.

Paul glanced to Jacob, and after a pause, he leaned closer, "Let's start with you ragazzone."

Jacob stared down Paul, who was an inch or two shorter than the red-head. He exhaled out an annoyed huff, and gruffly stated, "Name's Jacob."

Paul hummed and straightened up his posture, hazel eyes trailing Jacob's forest green jacket and body. His eyes seemed to linger on the American flag, Jacob's burns and, oddly enough, his biceps more often. Paul clicked his tongued and nodded his head approvingly, "That checks out. But man, sei una delizia per i miei occhi."

Silva had a bemused expression at Paul's words. Jacob, though, raised a brow, "Mind sharing on what's on your mind?"

Paul had snapped out of his trance, and he swiftly blurted out, "Oh, I just said you looked good, is all."

Paul's attention hastily turned to John and Joseph. He looked between the two, but when the older man focused on him, Joseph witnessed his cheer drop abundantly when their eyes met.

The cold dread surfaced once more. The dead-eyed scrutiny the older man reserved for Joseph alone alarmed him. Joseph could not understand Paul's behavior. Neither could he recall any cases where he could have slighted the man, despite this being their first meeting. He'd never seen Paul in any of his visions, only Silva.

Regardless, Joseph chose to retaliate with a gentle greeting, "My name's Joseph. My family and I run the chapel over on the island by the Henbane."

"Oh yeah, I know," Paul calmly told him, all the playfulness gone, "You're the head of the Project at Eden's Gate, correct?"

Joseph curtly nodded in confirmation, and Paul continued, "Yes, I've heard quite a lot about you. Folks around here always have something to say about your little project."

Joseph's lips thinned, disappointment resonating in his chest. So the sinners lies are spreading swiftly. He was displeased by this knowledge, but he resolved to help Paul see the light. If not for his own soul, then the sake of his daughter's.

John stepped in, interrupting the exchange, "All good things, one would hope."

Paul turned attentively to John with an upbeat rejuvenation, disregarding Joseph, "Well, they can't certainly be all bad now, can they?"

Paul's change in demeanor reminded Joseph of John; both hid their emotions behind a carefully crafted mask and would only reveal their true feelings to those they liked or trusted. However, Paul had more self-control over his emotions and mannerisms.

"And I don't believe you shared your name," Paul pointed out to John.

"John. And if I may, we'd encourage you and your daughter to come for at least one sermon," John invited. Joseph smiled at John's attempt to salvage Paul's soul.

The man in question gave a brief glance to Silva, who shrugged, before returning to John and saying, "Preferirei di no."

John waited for Paul to specify but the latter's attention shifted to their final sibling. Joseph caught a flash of an offended scowl on John's face, so Joseph reached a calming hand on his younger brother's shoulder. It worked, the scowl lost in a practiced exhale.

"Oh, look at this, they have a sorella Silva," Paul said with a grin as he stepped closer to the shorter Faith. Silva narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her father.

Admittedly, so had Joseph.

"What's your name?" Paul asked. Faith shifted, hands behind her back as a delighted smile stretched across her lips with an answer, "It's Faith."

"Faith," Paul repeated her name, seeming to break it down before giving a small bow, adding with sincerity, "A powerful name for a powerful woman. It suits you."

Paul's compliment had three separate effects from what Joseph could see; it had flattered Faith, who thanked Paul for his kind words. It had annoyed John, who rolled his eyes at the exchange.

And it had concerned Joseph, at least as the Father; while he had entrusted Faith in a role that required her to attract converts to their flock, he was weary of those with perverse sins that would embolden them to act on certain depravities.

There had been minor incidents that had occurred, at least in earlier years, though Faith had shown a strength and belief that always reaffirmed him in his decision to bring her in. Especially when she purified the souls of those who indulged in such vices, allowing them to serve the Project free of their sinful shackles; as angels.

He monitored Paul, watching as the man gazed into Faith's eyes, and saw once again how he lightened up. Paul noted aloud, "I must say, you have such lovely green eyes. Is that a recessive trait?"

As Faith gave an explanation to Paul, Joseph was more confused. The way he stated the detail was too specific. And he had stated loud enough for only their small group to hear.

He glanced to Silva, and was met with a menagerie of changing expressions; first was confusion, then came analysis, followed by baffled realization, until she finally settled on looking unimpressed.

With her reactions, Joseph was at a loss on how to view this interaction between Paul and Faith. Until Paul pulled out of his conversation with Faith and attentively singled Silva out, "You know Silva, se volevi solo parlare con la ragazza, non dovevi fare di tutto per incontrare prima tutta la sua famiglia, right?"

Silva blinked at Paul, staring agape as she processed the stream of words he told her aloud. A blush darkened her skin, grey eyes wide in astounded and embarrassment.

Ah, I see now, Joseph deduced, glancing from Silva to Paul, He's teasing her.

Evidenced by the cheeky grin that grew across Paul's face as he continued, "Lei è certamente una partita. Se vuoi, posso impartirti un po' di saggezza sul primo appuntamento. Purché non riceva un invito a nozze entro la fine dell'anno, eh Silva?"

Silva furrowed her brows at Paul, the blush expanded. She traversed over to grab Paul, telling him, "¡Ey! ¡Ya es suficiente de tu parte!"

Despite an irate Silva telling off a snickering Paul who fruitlessly tried to calm down his daughter, Joseph couldn't help but be endeared by the display in front of him. There was something else too... but he elected to push it away for the time being.

Joseph turned to address his family, and paused as John commented to Faith and Jacob, "Who here suspects this isn't an uncommon occurrence between these two?"

"I don't doubt it," Jacob affirmed, eyeing the duo, specifically Paul, "He's definitely the embarrassing parent."

And here's a few short paragraphed snippets for my DDLC WIP called You Make My Heart Go Doki Doki Literature Club! for the Last Lines tag. Sayori (plus Yuri and Natsuki) enters the club and interrupts... something:

The door class door clicked open, and both students snapped their heads to Sayori entering the class, who freezes once her blue eyes took in the sight of a frazzled and flushed Monika whose uniform was unkempt and fists were gripping the opened blazer flaps of the equally more disheveled and flushed new student Haoyu, both of their faces in close proximity of each other.

"This isn't what it looks like!" a horrified Monika quickly utters out, letting go of Haoyu's blazer and letting the green-dyed brunette troll drop to the floor with an ignored 'oomph!' as she went to address her club's co-president.

Only to stutter when, much to her horrifying embarrassment two more familiar faces entered the room beside Sayori; that of Yuri who didn't immediately comment on the situation and Natsuki who rushed in with a burning question to Monika's poorly timed outburst, "What doesn't look like what? Wait..."

Monika watched as Natsuki regarded her appearance, and then her pink eyes shifted to Haoyu leaning up nearby the coral brunette; who was repeatedly trying to blow hair away from their face, to a miserable degree of failure.

Once pink met emerald green, Monika could feel sweat start to break when she unfortunately witnessed a mischievous and teasing glint shine in her clubmate's eyes. With a teasing grin, Natsuki asked, "So what's going on in here?"

#music monday #wip wednesday #wip: wings and horns #series: the untitledverse #series: walking fate #twdg #oc: malcrum darling #twdg clementine #there's always one person outside of a relationship that just goes to ruin shit for no reason #series: a radioactive calamity of love bombs & gore #fallout #series: the silver chronicles #wip: oh i love it and i hate it at the same time. you and i drink the poison from the same vine. hiding all our sins from the daylight #far cry 5 #oc: silva omar #oc: paul yellowjack #joseph seed #john seed #jacob seed #faith seed #in which paul and silva stuck together... to no better results at all. paul just harasses the seeds now. karma honestly.#series: life despair & monsters #wip: you make my heart go doki doki literature club!#doki doki literature club #ddlc monika #oc: haoyu anabuki #ddlc sayori #ddlc yuri #ddlc natsuki #haoyu brings out the girlfailure in monika which is partly the reason why she wants to dropkick them cuz she can't have her friends find ou

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tarbuchyloewenthal · 3 months ago

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Avowed Tinfoil Hat Time

one tiny lore tidbit that is fairly obscure, and actually might have a lot to do with the story of avowed is that the emperor's scepter has an adra jewel which stores the souls of past aedyran kings and queens.

this comes into play in a couple of lines with sargamis from the barbarian gamescom footage, when the player and the oracle speculate a bit on just why the emperor would send our envoy in particular.

could the ancient souls in the scepter, y'know the major icon of aedyran heraldry

could the ancient souls have communicated to the emperor that our godlike envoy might have some connection to the living lands. and could that connection go all the way back to the godless and the origin of the two major ethnic groups in aedyr? both the meadow folk and wood elves are said to have originated in the far north.

north, vitally, being the direction in which lies the living lands. was there some calamity that caused the godless to flee and become the far distant ancestors to the aedyrans?

i don't quite think the timeline would match up, but if it does. . . oh boy oh boy oh boy

#avowed speculation #avowed spoilers #avowed lore #pillars of eternity #pillars of eternity lore #poe lore #the living lands #aedyr #envoy of aedyr #the godless

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blog-of-hubris · 1 year ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen Chapter 238: Shinjuku Showdown, Part 19

Oh boy oh boy. Another jjk chapter with Sukuna showing off why he is the KING of Curses. Beyond his strength, he speaks like a king to those he defeats, and his meaning is very esoteric.

I'm going to go full fanboy in this post, everyone, so please forgive me if you are here to hear bad things about jjk (you're weird, btw).

Perfection...Beautiful..

Kashimo looking at Sukuna with X-ray and seeing nothing but perfection is exactly what I feel looking at Gege.

But on a serious note.. Finally, seeing Sukuna's true form in action is insane!!! He looks so terrifying, and Kashimo knew that instantly. Sukuna not having any strain on his heart or lungs due to the build of his body is so damn impressive. I love seeing him flexing his perfection to Kashimo and then blitzes him.

I love this moment because it's showing how much Kashimo overestimated his ability to fight Sukuna. I knew Kashimo was a non factor, and Sukuna made it APPARENT. He literally showed Kashimo, he just was not that good, lol. (I was never a Kashimo fan, so this is nice for me).

Sukuna is quite truly beautiful. Gege gave him such a design to reflect him being the peak of jujutsu. I just want to say thank you to gege for following through so thoroughly on this.

Then to go even farther and give us Sukuna's feats against the great sorcerers of the past was even better. He defeated the Sun, Moon, and Stars squad that Uro was once a leader of. I love Gege doing this type of stuff, man!

If you remember, Uro's vision of calamity when talking to Yuta was Sukuna, and when Sukuna revived she knew it was him just based off his cursed energy. Gege made sure that all of this was continued by giving us more lore on Sukuna's final form.

It's these little things that really move me in story telling. Connects those dots for us!

We Are Loved Because We Are Strong

Sukuna's speeches to people after defeating them is becoming one of my favorite things in jujutsu kaisen. I already loved his moment with Jogo + his final words to Gojo, but now we can add Kashimo to this list, lol.

I love Sukuna mentioning Yozoru's words to Kashimo, because it directly reflects the short conversation we saw between Kashimo and Kenjaku. Kashimo wanted to go against Sukuna to feel fulfilled. Initially, I took this as a warrior fighting for the fulfillment of a real fight, or a true fight to the death. Kashimo is similar Gojo, where he felt all the surrounding sorcerers were below him, causing him to separate himself as an entity. However, this was dissatisfying for Kashimo. The difference between him/Gojo and Sukuna, is that the king of curses accepted that as a fact of life. Due to this fact, he saw the world as his playground, and anything that went against his desires were to be destroyed.

“You know the answer you seek, you just can't comprehend it, right..?”

I love this quote by sukuna. Implying that kashimo knew all along the answer to his soul's dilemma.

“Is strength solitude”?

That question is always known by the strong, but I think sukuna's lesson was to deeper understand how to live as the strong.

“You were strong”

I see this as sukuna reminding kashimo that because of his strength, love should be known. Those under you will love you because you are strong. He goes on to tell kashimo that the ones who challenged him did not do so to curse him, but to be recognized and to validate themselves. That itself is love, or maybe an easier word to translate it would be “admiration”.

Admiration however is a product of love. That is how sukuna connects with those below him. I believe Uraume is the example of this, as he/she has been by sukuna's side for seemingly the longest. That love Uraume has is most likely the best execution of love sukuna can have for one below him.

(it makes me wonder why uraume is so special)

Telling kashimo that he was strong, but also lamenting is greedy. Wow, sukuna... when you think about it, sukuna's outlook is very royal and fits that of a being existing on a higher frequency. What Sukuna is trying to relay, is that being the strongest comes with natural love (or being strong in general). It is when you begin to hate that strength or see it as a burden that you begin to lose sight of that love. Those around you love you for your strength, even those that challenge it have some form of admiration and search for recognition from that strength.

This takes me to when Nanami said to Gojo that he also once believed they should just send him out on every mission. Gojo felt that he could never be understood, and that burden carried with him his entire adult life. Before, he had Geto who he saw as his equal, best friend and dare I say other half. That is why he wished that Geto was there, patting him on his back. Gojo felt separated from everyone, even if he loved them, he still felt isolated. I believe that Geto was Gojo's “love” and that is why he could never truly feel satisfaction.. He could never save Geto.

(Sorry to go back to the sadness that is Gojo's separation from others as a human due to his exceptional skills as a sorcerer, but all of this ties in together so well).

Kashimo and Gojo both got “greedy”. They were strong, but also wanted to hate that strength instead of taking everything that came with it and finding true satisfaction within. Gojo felt pure isolation from his talent, while Kashimo felt lament because he could never have an equal. Both of these stemming from feeling the need for others to fulfill them, which is why Sukuna believes that...

Love is Useless...

Sukuna calls love useless. I find this so intriguing, because the “love” he spoke of was surrounded by the motif of “the strong”, and also he straight up says the thought of needing someone else to fulfill him never crossed his mind. He never thought that another person would give him the satisfaction he wanted, instead he put his desires first.

“I live according to my own stature. If that can't be measured or understood, that's not my problem”.

MEGUMI? YOU HEAR THAT?!

My god i hope megumi is listening. I talk with @theanimepsychologist about megumi coming back and also how sukuna is possibly his golden shadow. To expound on this train of thought, I see all of this as Gege playing deeper into Sukuna's role as megumi's catalyst.

In simpler terms, I see Sukuna & Megumi's dynamic on the same level as Mahito & Yuji's. Mahito propelled Yuji's understanding of being a jujutsu sorcerer, while Yuji propelled Mahito as a curse. For Sukuna and Megumi, Sukuna saw Megumi's technique as something to gain. There could possibly be more he plans on doing with the ten shadows specifically, giving him an even more powerful arsenal than he had before.

For Megumi, Sukuna was the first to make him see himself as a stronger person. The words “why did you run away” stuck in megumi's mind from the first fearsome womb chapters. That was when he discovered he could place things in his shadow, and from there he began to elevate each arc.

Sukuna being in Megumi's body right now feels like a terrible journey of enlightenment for megumi. I find it interesting that sukuna states he was born cursed and unwanted. Megumi talks as if he was treated the same way, even believing his father is still alive living it up somewhere. Megumi has no idea he faced his father in shibuya, or that his dad wanted him to be something outside the zenin clan. Even if he did end up there, he believed megumi would be okay because he was talented. Megumi never saw himself as wanted by his family, and his cope for that was Tsumiki.

Sukuna was different, he chased after his desires alone. He believed he could make himself happy, and that there was no one else who could fulfill that. Megumi losing Tsumiki is so difficult for him because he relied on Tsumiki as his heart and conscious. At first, megumi was indifferent, but expressed himself boldly. Tsumiki's positive outlook is what moved megumi, and that was all the family he had. Megumi isn't heartless as sukuna may naturally be, but his decision to save people has left him too selfless.

For megumi to return, I need to see his understanding of self-worth change. He needs to see his strength and importance as an individual to truly understand the love that comes from being strong. In order to save people, you need strength, but you cannot develop that strength without having a stronger sense of self to dismantle any sparks that fly your way.

"Its okay to be selfish"

"A jujutsu sorcerer's growth never comes easy"

(I could continue on about this megumi and sukuna connection but i think my point is made)

That is why Sukuna said love is useless. There is no need to look to another to satisfy yourself. To understand yourself is to understand your desires. And to be true to one's self is to chase after those desires without remorse. He hasn't changed a beat from when he spoke to Jogo, and I love consistency.

What Can You Do...Brat?

The final spread of the chapter was C R A Z Y! Uraume and Hakari break out of the domain with no damage on either person, while Higaruma and Yuij (with scales and claws??) begin to drop.

WTH?

My assumption is that they are going to try to get Sukuna into Higaruma's domain to win a trial and take away Sukuna's CT. This could work, but I'm worried that even without a CT, sukuna is still going to be very proficient in his raw CE usage unlike the other sorcerers Higaruma has faced. Maybe that is all they need to start the process to save megumi, or something else entirely crazy that only gege can come up with!

Truly endless possibilities.

Gege is continuing to Gege (whatever that means) and I will continue to not miss a beat. I believe we have a break coming up, so we will have to digest on this chapter a bit before we figure out what's going on!

#jjk 238 #jujutsu kaisen chapter 238 #jjk meta #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen manga #jjk 238 meta #gege akutami #weekly shonen jump #dh🍵#jujutsu kaisen #manga #manga meta

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charliedawn · 7 months ago

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Tiberias x Reader

Part 2

A lot of people have been asking for part 2 so…Here you go. Hope you’ll like it.

You smiled on your way to the market place. It was the first day outside of the castle since you were brought forth before the king and you had missed the busy streets of Jerusalem. You took a long inhale and smiled to yourself at the familiar smell of almond pastries and pipe smoke. You belonged. It was your home.

And then, another smell mixed with the others...one of iron and sweet musk. It commanded your senses and lead you forward towards its source. When your eyes fluttered open, you smiled. Here he was.

The champion of Jerusalem.

The kind one.

Your knight in shining armour.

...Tiberias.

His unwavering gaze fixed on you, but no hostility in his eyes full of unspoken wisdom built on years of service...and great sadness. His eyes spoke of years of suffering, serving a cause he didn't believe in, but following his heart into battle. Oh...A knight at birth. A hero born in the womb. One of the true ones.

Your bare feet almost danced on the rough stones when you made your way to him and even though he didn't speak, his eyes spoke for him. You could recognize a begging soul.

"...You once told me you didn't need a healer, my friend. I helped your king. As you wished. Will you let me help you now, kind one ?", you asked with a kind smile on your face. Your fingertips brushed against his cheek and your face was just a mere inches from his. He refused to speak, but what a pity...He had words the world needed to hear. His eyes spoke loud enough however. They were begging you so sweetly to free him. He opened his mouth, but another cut him.

"Almaealij Aleazim ?"

You snapped your head towards the person who had just called you and your eyes widened as you found an old woman before you with a small snake in her hands. You tilted your head quizzically at her as she handed you the animal with care and asked with tears in her eyes.

"Please...This snake was the last gift of my husband. He is dying and...I want him to stay with me."

You looked down at the snake in your hands and you rubbed its little head. But, it was too late. You could feel that it was too late. You didn't want to tell her, but your tears spoke for themselves. The old woman could feel your sorrow and before you even said anything, she broke into tears. You looked around and saw a small crowd forming around you and frowned before shielding the poor woman's face from the crowd. Tears were personal. No one had the right to see them unless they were invited to.

"I am sorry. A snake is a beautiful creature. It shows your husband loved you very much...", you whispered and the old woman nodded before wiping her tears and smiling up at you. You didn't see resentment in her gaze, but acceptance.

"...I know. That snake was the only thing I had left from him. And it was always so faithful to me.", she murmured while gently stroking its silver head and you could feel her pain through her broken voice. You kissed her cheek and asked her if she wanted you to relieve the pain. She didn't know what you meant by it, not until you opened your mouth and black ashes started billowing out of her before being swallowed by you. Some people came to you to relieve them of their physical pain, but some had much deeper scars, woes that needed to be forgotten before festering and becoming destructive calamities.

Your gift didn't only work on diseases, but pain. You relieved the innocent of their pain and it was the reason why some thought of you as a drug. They had once locked you away for this power out of cupidity. But the old woman deserved to be relieved of her pain—if only for a little while. She shivered in your grasp, but didn't resist. You could feel Tiberias' eyes on you, but didn't pay it any mind.

The old woman smiled and a single tear rolled down her face as she squeezed your hands.

"Thank you...", she whispered and you smiled back. She then dropped your hands and proceeded to walk away.

The pain would come back. It always did. But, you had at least given her a moment of respite. You didn't notice when the crowd started to surround you with their hands raised towards the sky. They all wanted to be blessed. And if you could, you would take away all of their pain. But, unfortunately...You were exhausted and knew that if you were to try to heal one more unfortunate soul...Yours would be lost.

You staggered backwards and thought you would pass out on the floor, but your back hit a strong and sturdy chest. You looked back to find Tiberias, holding you up and his gentle eyes met yours. And in a hazy moment of delusion, your brain made you utter desperate words to the old soldier of your heart.

"...Don't leave me." You pleaded and Tiberias' eyes softened significantly. He gently pulled you closer and stroked the back of your hand soothingly.

"...Believe me, princess. Nothing could possibly tear me away from you. I will be there until you—and only you—decide that my services are no longer required."

You smiled and couldn't help but laugh before daring taking his hand and kissing the back of it—forgetting all about the public around you. They all suddenly fell silent and if you had been in your normal state of mind, you would have realized what you had just done...But, all you could was smile in bliss as Tiberias' fingers trembled in your hands. To think the man would be so affected by such an innocent gesture...

You fell unconscious in his arms.

He held you closer and his eyes then gave a circular glace at the gathered crowd. But, they didn't seem to mind the gesture and, even worse...some cheered.

"CONGRATULATIONS TO ALMA AND THE KIND ONE !", they chanted and knelt at your feet. Tiberias sighed before shaking his head. Of course they would misunderstand...The girl was just too naive and he was too old to waste his time with arguing. However, you were promised to the king. And he wouldn't let it be heard that you were unfaithful.

"QUIET DOWN ! THIS WOMAN IS NOT MINE ! SHE BELONGS TO THE KING !"

The crowd suddenly fell silent, but one man stepped forward with a frown on his face as he saw the way you were holding onto him. You seemed so peaceful in his arms, and yet...

"Almaealij Aleazim doesn't belong to anyone."

The people around the both of you raised to their feet and started muttering between themselves. Tiberias' eyes widened as he realized the mistake he had just committed.

"Of course not. Forgive my words. I only meant...", he tried to correct himself—but the man shook his head and smiled.

"We know what you meant, kind one. Your king has made sure to keep our Alma to himself forever by asking for her hand. But, Alma hasn’t given him her answer yet, has she ?"

Tiberias’ jaw twitched. The fool didn’t know what his impertinence would lead to. But, he decided to change subjects. before the people of Jerusalem took his words to heart.

"....Alma ?", he asked with a curious tilt of his head and the young man looked at you significantly.

"Her name. Alma. Our healer." The man replied.

The way the young man's 'our' sounded almost possessive didn't go unnoticed by the old soldier who narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him.

"For a man who pretends that this woman doesn't belong to anyone...You seem very keen on what side she belongs in."

The young man's expression darkened and his smile felt fake as he answered.

"Because she belongs to her people. Not to the white devils."

Tiberias narrowed his eyes at his very treacherous smile, the smile that hid the truth. His jaw twitched again as he held you closer to his chest.

"I won't allow her to get hurt. Not anymore...", he answered with certainty—but the man didn't seem convinced. He took a step forward, but Tiberias didn't even flinch as the stranger leaned forward and his smile became malicious.

"Are you sure about that, kind one ? Do you really think your own kind will remain gentle when they see where your true loyalty lies ?"

Tiberias took a step back at the man's accusations and suddenly, he felt surrounded. It was suffocating. He gazed down at the girl in his arms and held her closer.

…His true loyalty ?

He scoffed and took a circular glance at the people before thundering, his voice alone commanding respect.

"Your Alma shall be returned to you soon enough. My king is a just one ! And the girl will not be harmed. Not as long as the truce between our two people shall stand !"

The young man—who seemed to be the leader—scoffed before taking a strand of your hair in his hand.

"And how long will this truce last ? You took something of ours, kind one. And we want it back."

Tiberias’ expression hardened as he grabbed the man’s arm and forced him to let go of you. He only understood the young man’s intentions when the muttering around you became louder and louder and the eyes became judging and menacing. He immediately released the man’s arm. However, the harm was done. They were know looking at him with distrust and suspicion while Tiberias’ heart beat a thousand miles a minute at the realisation that he had just unintentionally made an enemy out of the people of this city…

"This city knows her heart. We trust our Alma will take the right decision." The young man said and disappeared in the crowd while Tiberias got back on his horse to return to the castle with you in his arms.

He looked down at you and sighed.

So much trouble for just one woman…He couldn’t even imagine how hard it must have been for you all these years without anyone to protect you…But, he was here now. He would never let you suffer again.

"…I will protect you, Alma. I promise."

A few hours later :

When you woke up, you were disappointed not to see Tiberias in the room with you. He had covered you with a blanket and left you to get some rest. However, you found him before dinner and he was taken aback when you suddenly took his hand. He was about to admonish you for already having forgotten his earlier request about physical affection in public when he noticed you frowning in worry. He found it puzzling and dropped on one knee to look you in the eyes, just to make sure you were alright.

"What is wrong, Almaealij Aleazim ?", he asked and you took a deep breath. You had healed the king, but what was to happen now that he had what he wanted ? He was no longer sick. Therefore, you were no longer needed.

You blinked your tears away before answering truthfully.

"I...I would have liked to stay with you." You confessed and Tiberias' eyes widened as he looked at your hands in his. He bent forward to press his forehead against your knuckles in reverence. His eyes softening as he sought to reassure you.

"I would never ask you to leave, princess."

Your brother was a great leader, but you had never been called princess before. You blushed a little and found that from his lips, it didn't sound as much a title as a term of endearment. At least, you liked to think so. Unfortunately, your moment was cut short by laughs in the corridor and you both turned to find three of the nobles standing there.

"Here. The bitch and her hound." One of them had the audacity to say and you flushed in embarrassment. You didn’t mind their hateful words, but you didn’t want it to tarnish your knight’s reputation. You tried to pull away from him, but it was Tiberias who refused to let you go this time around. He glared at the nobles who suddenly lost their smiles.

"She saved our sovereign. She deserves respect. You were all so frightened to fight for our sick king, when all she did was fight for him. Next time you dare open your mouths, your tongues will be cut off."

You gasped in unison with the nobles at his words. The nobles glared at him, but didn't dare utter another word. Tiberias was Baldwin's most trusted advisor and the finest swordsman in the whole city. He commanded respect by breathing alone, so the nobles only nodded and walked away—but not without throwing you one last nasty glare first.

You stayed by Tiberias’ side and looked up at him with nothing but admiration in your gaze.

"Wise Tiberias, tell me..What would it take for you to become king ?"

He was surprised by the question. You had never actually taken an interest in him or his life..But, he smiled and decided to indulge your curiosity nonetheless.

"It would take a very special princess to let me into her heart."

He thought of Sybil and laughed. What a funny thought..Him. King. Sybil had been born on the same day as Baldwin, but everyone knew that Sybil had came first. For him to become king, he would have to ask Baldwin for her hand and he'd rather cut his own dominant hand than lower himself to ask for the poor girl to marry him. But, your cheeks coloured red as you thought about it. You knew he wasn’t referring to you, but you were technically a princess. And you wouldn’t see anyone but Tiberias worthy of leading your people.

You seemed to ponder on it and Tiberias shrugged, not paying mind to the way your fingers seemed to grasp his even tighter. He didn't think more of it. He thought you would drop it and it would be another forgotten question.

He was wrong.

You suddenly stopped walking and Tiberias frowned as you lead him towards your bedroom instead. He didn’t question it though. When you were both in the room, you closed the door behind you and invited Tiberias to sit at the circular table in the middle of the room.

He sat. He sat and wordlessly looked at you—studying each of your movements carefully. He quickly understood that you were preparing him tea and he relaxed. He remembered the first time you had served him tea and the sweet taste of orange blossom that had filled his senses. He had missed it…

Thereby, he took off his sword and waited patiently as you stirred the tea in an elegant pot and poured it in two cups. You quietly sat down in front of him and gave him one of the fuming cups. He gratefully accepted it and took a long inhale of the soothing sweet scent of orange blossom, jasmin and other plants residing at the bottom of the cup. He then took a careful sip and his eyes closed at the sweet taste…such lovely fragrance and such enticing aroma.

He had asked multiple times for the recipe in order to learn how to prepare it himself, but you had always insisted on making it for him instead. You knew that giving him the recipe would be preventing you from having a reason to have those little private moments you treasured so much. You smiled as he took a second sip and seemed blissful for a while, his shoulders lowering and his features softening.

He was the perfect painting of an old soldier tired of war. And you wanted to give him the peace he so desperately craved.

You couldn’t wait any longer.

You had to ask.

"Marry me, Tiberias." The older man almost choked on his tea as he heard your request and opened his eyes with the furrowed expression you had grown accustomed to. It meant confusion with a mix of disapproval.

You thought he would laugh. He didn't.

He seemed to gather his spirits rather quickly and find the right answer to give you as your cheeks burnt bright red.

"…I am old.", he stated matter-of-factly after a few seconds and looked you up and down with a skeptical expression. But, you shook your head.

You cared for him. Deeply. And that was all that mattered to you.

"Age is of no importance to me. And it shouldn’t be of any importance to you either. The many books I have read on your marital customs taught me that an age difference is of no consequence over a union in your country."

His eyes widened and he was about to answer, but hesitated. It was true. It was of no importance to his kind. But…still.

"…The king already asked for your hand," he reminded you and you sighed.

"...I respect him. But, he is not you." You replied in a mere whisper, lowering your gaze in shame. It was true. You held the king in high respect. But…You couldn’t lie to your own heart. "I respect and value you more than any man in this entire castle."

Tiberias clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white and took a long and sharp inhale. Sybil had received many demands and it was normal for a young girl your age to feel discouraged when not receiving any. But, it was more than that.

A few days ago, Baldwin had officially announced that he would marry you in front of your own brother in exchange for peace. It was part of the peace treaty. And he would be a fool for not acknowledging that fact.

"Not enough to value my intelligence it seems. I won't sacrifice the kingdom and a possible peace for some childish crush, Alma." He said knowingly and your face became livid at the accusation. You had waited a long time to ask him, and he now wished to undermine you by calling your love a mere child’s game. You felt ashamed and humiliated.

However, it didn't stop your determination. You would marry Tiberias. You would marry Raymond the III of Tripoli.

"You are wrong, Tiberias. This is not a game. I will refuse the king’s demand. My heart already belongs to someone else..."

He frowned and was about to ask what you meant when one of your servants came to warn you that dinner was served. You nodded and both you and Tiberias stood up. You arrived in the throne room and Baldwin's face lit up at your arrival.

"TIBERIAS ! ALMAEALIJ ! WELCOME !"

You both sat down by his side and it was quite the sight to see Baldwin in such a good mood. He was given a second life and he seemed to enjoy it immensely. However, Tiberias was still thinking on your request to marry him. He sighed and looked around the table before whispering to you.

"If you wish to marry so badly, marry the king. Save your kingdom, Almaealij."

He mildly gestured to them both as he was talking, but you didn’t even look their way. You didn’t seem to be interested in his suggestions. You merely hummed absentmindedly.

"I respect and trust King Baldwin. But, I only wish to give my to heart to one man." You gestured towards the people around table idly, your attention solely focused on him.

He frowned.

"You shouldn't." He replied shortly and you raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

"And why is that ?"

You were genuinely curious. Tiberias seemed so serious all of a sudden. He knew he ought to keep his mouth shut, but he needed you to understand.

There was no such thing as a good man.

"Because men are foul beasts. And I'm no different. I just happen to hide it better than most." He answered you with a slight smirk and took a sip of his drink.

"I do not believe you." You said assuredly and your breath hitched when Tiberias' eyes darkened and he shook his head in disbelief.

"Then you are naive."

Your eyes widened at his cruel answer. He had never insulted you before. But, he seemed more honest than he had ever been with you too.

"You are the kind one. Everybody knows you." You insisted. He was kind. He had proved himself over and over to you. Why wouldn’t he see his own value ? He held back an eye roll at the familiar nickname and looked back at you with a mocking scoff.

"Kind one...It is but a name. One I never agreed to." His eyes then lowered to your dark purple dress and the way you looked absolutely stunning. You had grown from the little wildling he had brought to his majesty months ago. He looked around to make sure everyone was too busy eating to pay attention to what you were doing. And as if to prove his point, he snaked his arm around you and whispered in your ear—alcool untying his mischievous tongue.

"What if I tell you I have carnivorous desires as much as any man ? What if I told you I would be the first to bend you over this table and fuck you raw in front of all those noble men if it weren't for decency and etiquette ?" He squeezed your thigh meaningfully and you bit back a sound. "I am a hound, Almaealij. Never forget. I was bred to be vicious and merciless."

"I...I..." You tried to answer and he let out a mocking snort before leaning back in his chair with his cup in hand. He knew you were too young to realise…but, there really wasn’t such a thing as a good man.

"Do not worry, Almaealij Aleazim. I am still a man of my word and I promised I would protect you. I would never do anything to bring you harm." He finally released you and you stayed silent for a moment. His words rang in your ears and caused chills to run down your spine. Was it true ? Did Tiberias really have such impure thoughts in his mind ? Tiberias thought he had finally provoked fear in you—he was wrong.

He started eating and you tried to eat a few bites for appearance when another appetite had suddenly made itself known at the bottom of your stomach. You were looking at Tiberias with more hunger in your eyes than if he was one of those rare delicacies your brother would sometimes bring back from his trips…

Once dinner was over, you were the first to stand up.

"...Bring me back to my room, Tiberias." Your tone seemed so cold now, it was enough to sober up Tiberias who wondered if he had gone too far ? He lowered his cup and nodded dutifully.

"Yes, Almaealij."

He then stood up too and offered you his hand, but you ignored it. You bowed your head at the king who nodded in return. You then took your leave and Tiberias followed you—even though quite puzzled by your sudden coldness. He thought it good though. It was enough daydream for you. You were a really nice woman and he wanted you to understand that your feelings weren’t good for you.

But, still…

He had dared touch you and tell you things he shouldn't have...He opened his mouth to apologize, but no sound came out. You remained silent all the way and Tiberias groaned to himself. He usually never drank in company for that exact reason. Why...Oh why had he decided today was the best day to change that rule ? Once you arrived, he couldn't wait to run back to his room and gulp down his jar of red wine and go to sleep...But then, he heard your soft voice.

"Wait here."

And, he did.

He waited.

Because he could lie to everyone else, but he knew where his true loyalty lied. It was at your feet, waiting to be trempled or brought up to full glory...So, he waited. He waited and when you told him to come in—he did.

However, he didn’t expect to find you laid down on your bed and with your beautiful dress...You looked like an Ancient statue. He stopped dead in his tracks and frowned.

"Almaealij…What is the meaning of this ?"

You wordlessly patted the empty spot next to you and he suddenly understood what you wanted. He sighed and shook his head.

"I cannot…"

You frowned.

"I am asking you to sleep by my side. And I shall have you rest here."

Tiberias hesitated.

"It would be improper." He tried to decline. Your scoffed in return.

"Since when was I ever anything but improper ? Now, come. Come sleep beside me."

He could leave. It was the right thing to do. But, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He took a step forward. And another. And another. Until his legs hit the edge of the bed. You then sat on your knees and started taking off his armour. And he let you. You took off his shoulder plates and torso plate easily…You then proceeded to help him with the rest of his armour patiently and diligently. He was almost surprised by such an endearing display.

When he was finally rid of his armour, he felt almost ashamed. He was a soldier. He was meant to protect and defend. Not…sleep in front of the very person he was meant to watch over. But, you patted the empty spot once more and he had no choice but to comply…He laid down on your bed and closed his eyes. It was best to not let his eyes wander, or he would lose himself and whatever shred of dignity he had left.

You scooted closer to him and stared at him and his peaceful resting face. You leant a little closer and in the dark of the night, found relief in his comforting breathing. Your eyes dropped to his lips and you licked yours. You raised a trembling hand to your mouth and pressed the fingertips to your lips and slowly reached forward for his. An indirect kiss. A kiss which meant a promise.

You knew Tiberias to be wise and loyal to the ones he cared about. He was also trustworthy and had always been a good and loyal friend to you. He would make a good spouse, and you didn't intend to wait for Baldwin or your brother to find you another suitor to marry you off to. You wanted him.

"Tiberias. I want you."

He didn’t answer and you sighed. Was he already asleep ? You were about to move back when Tiberias grabbed your arm. He then spun you around to face him once more and pulled you flush against him—mumbling some incoherent muttering. You wanted to back away, tell him he had no right to touch your person and play petty so he may feel the pain you felt when you couldn't...But, the look he gave you made you lose all of your words.

"You...You want me, Alma ?"

Of course. Of course he would hear you. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and linked his breathing with yours. He had called you Alma. The name sounded so foreign, and yet fit you in some strange way...You would love him to call you that again. It sounded like "love". As if he shared the same special connection you felt, that distorted need for him which made you weak in the knees and want to cling to him, knowing he'd hold you steady.

"I want you, kind one." You confirmed. "…Do you want me ?"

There was a moment of silence where you were both unsure of what to say or do. You wanted him to reassure you…Tell you he loved you. But, Tiberias thought about what kind of future he would be offering you…He was old and tired. He barely counted as a man anymore. He was not worthy of you. But, he wanted to be.

"I want you too," He finally confessed. "I want you to be by my side and give me those sinful smiles of yours. I feel like I am losing my mind. I want to make you feel good and kiss you breathless every night. Have a family with you. Take you away from this war and make your laugh my only purpose. But, I am long past my prime, Alma. You should be with a young and valiant knight who will take care of you and..."

You didn't let him finish as you grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down so your lips met. His mouth was still open and you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and devour the inside of his mouth as if it was one of those da pastries you enjoyed so much.

Tiberias seemed lost for a second as his hands hovered haphazardly over your hips and he hesitated before kneeding the flesh there. He was surprised when a low moan made it past your lips and a blush spread across his cheeks. He hadn't even thought of the possibility that you could feel pleasure in his company. But, he suddenly seemed to get more confident and fisted a hand in your hair so he may kiss you with passion.

He was almost taken aback by your passion and enthusiasm. When you rubbed your leg against his crotch area, he almost let you fall. Dear Lord...Give him strength. He thought you would be shy, even quite prude on your first night together. But, he was wrong. He barely had the time to appreciate the smooth fabric of your silk nightgown that it was off and discarded. You were quick and seemed to know exactly what to do. You didn't hesitate before starting to unbuckle his belt. Tiberias' jaw almost fell slack as you didn't seem to be the young and innocent maiden he had discussed with at dinner. You acted impatient and ruthless. He thought to remind you of your manners, but was once more surprised when his hands were guided down to your mouth.

You kissed his knuckles and his breath shuddered as he felt his hands become putty under the care of your lips. He was surprised by the gentleness and innocence of the gesture..until you decided to lick his palm. He sought to retrieve his hands, but couldn't as you started sucking on the tip of his middle finger. He had seen literal bloodbaths, but the sight of his beloved Almaealij doing such a sinful action made him incredibly hot and bothered.

He had been married once. He had loved his wife dearly, but he had never felt such fire in the pit of his stomach during their nights together.

"Stop !" He finally told you and pinned you to the bed, not hard enough to truly hurt you, but enough to make you stop. He didn't expect when you threw your head back and let out a louder moan.

He then understood.

He had been bewitched by a cannibal. A man-hunter. A girl of sin..You were after his immortal soul and he gritted his teeth. He wrapped his hand around your throat and your eyes snapped open to stare at him.

"T-Tiberias..." You breathed out his name and Tiberias thought he was going to lose it. He claimed your lips and tried to trap all of your tempting words inside. But, he was unsuccessful as the moment his lips left yours, you dragged him right back to you and whispered all types of sinful obscenities in his ear. "I want you to ravage me. Make all those nobles know just how much you are worthy of my love. Make all those nose up court ladies turn green in jealousy upon discovering all of their jeering was misplaced. I chose the best husband. Now, show me how you would treat the best wife."

Wife...You wanted him. And oh...Did he want you...It burned his soul. This desire. This lust. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. His hold on you tightened as he sat down and effortlessly lifted you up to make you straddle his hips. He then tugged the hair out of your face to look at your eyes, your beautiful eyes darkened by lust and need. It was enough to make him hold his breath.

"Almaealij...I cannot marry you. My life is done. Yours just begun. I couldn't possibly...", he started—but you cut him off.

"Tiberias...Please." You pleaded and your lips hovered above his as you fisted his tunic—the wretched thing the only obstacle between you and what your heart desire.

"...Let me devour your pain."

His eyes widened and a single tear rolled down his face—one you licked away. You were starving and even though it was dangerous, you had dedicated your life to devouring other people's pain. It fed you. It made you whole. And Tiberias...Tiberias' pain was endless. You wanted him. Oh god forgive...There was no depth to this desire you felt for the man. It didn't make any sense. You had refused a crown for him. You had told Baldwin no because your eyes had already settled on the worthy one, the only man who had defended you when all of the crusaders called for your impending death.

"You...You really want this, don't you ?", he asked and you could see the sliver of uncertainty in his eyes. You held back a snort before stroking his cheek. How could such a man ever doubt a woman's desire for him ? Not only was he strong, he was kind and compassionate and...

"More than anything. Please.", you whispered and lowered yourself to place a chaste kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes and let out a defeated sigh before intertwining your fingers, suddenly pinning them over your head. You gasped in surprise and he kissed you again before slowly slipping his hand underneath your skirt...And then, he felt the scars.

His eyes lowered and sorrow filled them at the sight of your damaged flesh. To think someone had dared force you to do such a thing...He released your wrists to stroke the skin of your ankles with gentle care and you tried to stop him—but the look he gave you froze you on the spot. He then continued his ministrations and you let out a relieved sigh, but you soon felt tears run down your face and tried to hide them from him. However, he grabbed your arm before you could cover your face.

"Ssh...Almaealij. You are beautiful."

You looked up at him and the sight of his eyes on you burned and felt like heaven at the same time. You wished for it to never end, but couldn't wait any longer as you jumped on him and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Alma...Please. Don't..."

But, you were far too gone to listen. You wanted the pain to disappear. To feel wanted. And not just because you were the great healer of Jerusalem...No. You wanted to be needed. To be felt. To be seen. As a woman. Tiberias seemed to understand and didn't protest when you pulled his shirt off him and marveled at the rippling muscles hidden underneath.

"Kind one...You shall make me the happiest woman tonight.", you whispered and Tiberias felt his heart hammer in his chest at the look of utter adoration in your gaze. But, then...You felt the pain and leant forward to kiss him—but also suck all this sadness out of him. You wanted him to be happy, and as much as Baldwin...You could see the darkness inside and wanted to feast on it, make it so only Tiberias remained. Tiberias felt as if he was dying, but desperately grasped you and pulled you further against him. You wanted his pain ? He'd be more than happy to give you everything he had and more...He then started to gently unclasp all of the restrains of your underdress with surprising ease. You brought one of his hands to your face and placed a gentle kiss to the palm. His eyes widened and he panted as he felt like a young man again, just after his first kill, his hands covered in warm blood and this strange feeling in his chest...He then eyed your throat and let his mind run wild.

He kissed it and then, in the spur of the moment, bit it. You were all gentle gasps and soft mewls...It shouldn’t make him cry. He had slayed men before, but what he wished to do to you ? No man could ever imagine...

"I shall ravage you, Almaealij Aleazim. Do you understand what I mean ? You shall be mine and mine alone...You shall be linked to an old soldier who gave up all of his attempts at happiness years ago. I shall feed on your youth, as you shall feed on my misery. I shall steal your life, as much as you'll give me life."

Your eyes widened at the sadness in Tiberias’ eyes. He seemed sorrowful. As if he couldn’t believe it and was trying to scare you away. He seemed incapable of comprehending your love for him.

"Tiberias...", you muttered—your eyes softening upon his words. You slowly stroked his cheek soothingly and kissed him again. He had so much pain in him…It made him so much more valuable in your eyes. He had suffered so much—even though in silence.

But then, he grabbed your wrists and and you felt him thrust into you and all thoughts seemed to leave you. You whimpered and grabbed onto him for dear life.

"You brought this upon yourself. I tried to push you away. But, you kept coming back like...hmm...like a lost child. Like a...a lovesick puppy. They tell me I am the hound, but they haven't seen the size of your claws..."

To think he had the strength to speak while all coherent thought had left your brain the moment he had entered you. You clawed at his back and thrashed as he kept his movements very slow and steady—as not to hurt you.

"I...I need...", you tried to speak—but he slammed back into you and Tiberias even teased you as he raised his eyes up to meet yours.

"Yes, dear one ? What is it that you need ?"

You opened your mouth and surprised yourself by finding your words back.

"Tiberias. I need you."

"Is that so ?" He smirked and for a moment, his eyes seemed to shine with a streak of gold as his hand tenderly stroked your cheek. He hummed and went at an agonizingly slow pace purposefully to see your features tighten in frustration. He was admiring the woman writhing under him, who could have chosen every man in the kingdom...But, had settled for less.

It made him think of the first time you had met. He had been surprised by the fact that you were living in such a small house when you could have been living in a palace with that gift of yours. You could have chosen everything. Your beauty could have been enough to satisfy any man, but you had settled for this old run-down house, this shipwreck of an old time long forgotten. And he adored you all the more for it.

"T-Tiberias...", you called for him and sought him out with your hands—your eyes glazed by tears and your mouth parted slightly...He couldn't resist. He bent down and kissed you longingly and his hold on you tightened.

"Do not hide yourself from me. I want to hear you. Be as loud as you can. Make it so even heaven shatters with your screams alone..."

Your eyes watered and you obeyed. You let out a huge scream and Tiberias smiled. He then started nibbling on the skin of your neck. He knew the room was far away from everyone else's. You could be loud and let out all the pain you felt inside. He would hear it all...He would hear you.

"My princess...Mine. My lovely and terribly sweet princess.", he uttered in the darkness and you held on to him, seeking out his words as if they were the source of life itself.

"Tiberias...My heart sings for you. Can you hear it ?", you asked and he stilled in his movements. He stayed perfectly still for a few seconds when only both of your heavy pants filled the room and finally, he smiled. Your eyes widened, as you had never seen such a smile on him before...

"I hear it. It sings the same tune as mine."

He placed your hand above his heart and your eyes watered once more, but they were tears of joy. The music...It was beautiful. You slid your hand upwards and secured it at the back of his neck to suddenly crash your lips together. He responded with the same ferocity and resumed his movements before holding himself up by the elbows to look at you.

"Almaealij...My Alma. Mine and only mine..."

Your name sounded so sweet on his tongue and your ears reveled in the way he pronounced it. It was foreign to you. And even though you were sweating and feeling as if you were about to give any time now, you ran your thumb over his lips. You wanted him to speak again. If he was to be yours, then he'd have to speak to you everyday. What bliss...What joy...

"Marry me, Tiberias.", you reiterated your request and Tiberias suddenly stilled.

"Marriage...Would you really be willing to share a life with me ? For whatever time I have left on this world ?", he asked and you smiled at his puzzled expression.

"I would have asked you the exact same question if you had had but a few minutes left. I can't think of someone I would rather spend my life with."

"Such a great shame we won't be able to attend his majesty's breakfast tomorrow morning...", you said with a small playful smile and Tiberias responded with a small amused smile of his own.

"Do you really intend to keep me up all night ?"

You chuckled.

"Me ? Oh...If it were up to me, I'd make sure you stay in this bed with me forever."

Tiberias smirked before suddenly kissing you again.

"~What a shame indeed."

The very next day :

Tiberias mounted his horse very early in the morning and went to see your brother. The moment he was in the camp, he was surrounded by his soldiers, but they surprisingly let him pass.

They knew why he was here.

When he entered, Saladin was waiting for him.

"I know why you are here, Tiberias of Tripoli. My sister has spoken very highly of you and has already shared her plans as to marry you."

Tiberias nodded understandingly, but before he could ask what conclusion he had made…Your brother smiled.

"However, I am still undecided. So, I’ll ask you. How far are you willing to go for her ?"

"I would die for her.", Tiberias declared without hesitation—but your brother didn’t seem satisfied by the answer.

"That wasn't my question. I am asking you if you'd betray your own kingdom and moral code for her ? I know you, kind one. Your loyalty is not to be questioned. But...I want my sister to count on you. So I’ll ask you another question. If you had to choose between your kingdom and my sister ? Who would you choose ?"

Tiberias frowned at the question and he seemed to ponder on it…His kingdom was his home and you were his love. Who he’d be without them both ? Nothing.

"…I would fight until both of them are safe. I cannot choose because one cannot choose family over family", he admitted and was scared his answer might not be sufficient. But, he was surprised when he felt your brother’s hand on his shoulder. And when he looked back up, your brother was smiling.

His eyes widened when he heard Saladin chuckle and finally answer him.

"You have my blessing. Kind one." And with that, Saladin was out of the tent. Tiberias hadn’t noticed—but he was trembling.

He had his blessing.

But at what cost ?

A dark voice whispered at the back of his head. He had Saladin’s blessing and he knew what it entailed. He had earned himself a new home, but would his motherland forgive him for the treachery he was about to commit out of the name of love ?

He looked up.

He hoped his god was as merciful as the texts made him out to be…

#kingdom of heaven #tiberias vii calore #tiberias #tiberias x reader #king baldwin iv #fanfic #imagine #fandoms

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bisasterqueen · 5 months ago

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Finished Dawn Trail a couple days ago and I've been letting my thoughts and feelings settle.

I really enjoyed the first half of the game. Exploring Tural, learning about its people and their histories, and watching Wuk lamat and the others grow. That I enjoyed. Heading out with Erenville at the beginning of the second half and going on a mini road trip was really fun. Also him going 'yes I know you can walk in there and trounce all of them but please let's keep bloodshed to a minimum'. Like our boy has been to Ishgard he's heard the stories.

Then the second half of the story kicks off and I start to feel a disconnect. There were still parts of it I really enjoyed. The connection to Krile's past, confirmation that travel between shards has happened before, and a bunch of subtext in part of the last area that I will scream about later. But the biggest issue for me was Sphene.

Zoraal ja I clocked early on and figured out most of his deal. The final fight confirmed most of it but the point I'm making is that I could connect somewhat with Zoraal Ja. He was in some ways experiencing a very toxic version of the gifted child syndrome. He was the Miracle and because he was the Miracle he never got to figure out who he was and what he wanted and that it was okay to be himself or at least that was my read. Because of this he couldn't connect with others and had little to no respect for the value of 'human' life. This I got and I could somewhat connect with it.

Now Sphene shows up in her magic fairy princess outfit and I could feel like I was supposed to connect with her in some way but it could never quite click. Oh you love your people and are just trying to help them survive a terrible calamity( thanks emet ). Is this just a class of cultures and terrible circumstances? That we can overcome by achieving understanding of each other. Then we find out about their way of life is dependent on using SOULS as a power source and I'm like 'Okay that's not cool but I see we're going with the Dark knight Stormblood quest theme/the Ascian agenda where we help the learn you can't sacrifice the living for the dead right?...RIGHT?!'.

Oh the original Queen Sphene is dead and this is a program with her memories? And she's programmed to keep the soul eating machine going no matter what Are we going Omega? No.

Sphene sticks to her guns and her programming trying to save the ghosts in the machine and ok neither one of us is compromising this is Hades.

And look I get it we can't always reach a compromise and there will be confrontation. If that was the theme I get it. But Sphene feels like a cardboard cutout to me and I can't figure out why. Maybe it's because it's not us she's supposed to mirror but Wuk lamat? The second part of Dawntrail mostly felt a stepping stone to the next part of the story and not quite in a good way. I still loved the game and can't wait to see more though. Also I saw the fucking Azem imagery square and when the key lighted up their fucking symbol. 'oh who could have made such a strange and powerful artifact?' It's us causing problems for ourselves again.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #dawntrail #dawntrail spoilers #thoughts

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brineffxiv · 2 years ago

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In Radz-at-Han, Vrtra (via Varshahn) is preparing to make his grand announcement.

I can feel his fear and trepidation; no less than this great calamity could have prompted him to reveal his secret, so afraid was he of his people rejecting him.

It will be alright. They will see how much you care for them.

It is a lovely speech. His people do not yet know him, but they will. And they are willing to extend the same trust to him that he extends to them in this moment. Together, they will get through this.

That it would have. I hope that wherever she is now - the aetherial sea, or perhaps reborn? - that she knows where the path she started us down has led us.

Oh great. These fuckers again.

To his credit, Fourchenault recovers quickly when he discovers he's going to have to negotiate policy with a Great Wyrm. He quickly and succinctly gives a brief explanation of the Final Days, and what the Forum has been planning.

...I am both surprised and relieved. It's clear I need to reassess my view of Sharlayan; I was convinced that, being so insular, they would only seek to rescue their own people. Fourchenault has risen in my estimation. Marginally.

Vrtra will meet and discuss the details of this plan of evacuation with the Forum members in Meghaduta. I am heartened to learn that the decision will ultimately be up to the individuals to decide; Vrtra truly is a good leader.

Nidhana has caught up with us: she has a theory to share!

Y'know, I asked that exact question when Y'shtola first said they didn't have any aether. Without it, how do they exist at all?

Nidhana's theory, then, is based on the fact that strong negative emotions trigger the transformation. She posits that akasa is the alternate energy that the beasts are animated by.

That... would make sense. Because my flower seems to be influenced by the same force, and...

Aaaand it just exploded into black dust.

Well, if akasa is the force behind the flower's color-changing effect, then I think it's safe to say that there's something really fucked up influencing our surroundings right now.

*narrows eyes*

...Didn't Hydaelyn say that the flower would guide me? Or something to that effect?

That seems to imply... That Hydaelyn knows akasa is the force behind the Final Days. That She knew all the way back in Labyrinthos.

Why...

Okay, this doesn't make any sense. Because She may be incredibly frustrating, but She's not evil. ...Is She? That doesn't make sense either. She made the Loporrits out of love for us. She gave us a backup plan. If She knows what's causing the Final Days, why would She let us run about in circles trying to figure the answer out?? She must know about the akasa connection, because literally the only thing the flower does is react to it. Why else give it to me??

Is this like the Forum? Like. She literally can't tell me? But why? What rule could possibly constrain a being like Her?

This is... Really fucking fishy. I don't like this. I have a really bad feeling.

Yeah. And now I don't even have the flower to guide me.

Oh look I suddenly have a million (five) quests to distract me, better go do them...

Sadly the only classes I have at 90 are Sage and Paladin, so those are the only ones I can complete. Everything else I can only do up to level 87.

But, I did notice something curious while completing the Healer quest?

Fordola clearly sees the soul of Charlet, the man who became the blasphemy, walk off to join those of their deceased friends... According to everything Y'shtola said, this should not be possible? There should be nothing left of his soul? And yet there is. I am leery of getting my hopes up, but maybe the souls of those changed are not completely destroyed after all?

A mystery...

Anyway. I have a dinner to attend.

We have to remember, what we saw in Amaurot was end-stage. It is what is coming, but we still have time to stop it. Before things get that bad.

And now we understand why half the star was willing to give up their lives to summon Zodiark, don't we?

No, Y'shtola, you've got that backwards. Zodiark stopped the Final Days. Hydaelyn was the one who sundered everything in the process of subduing Him.

But, that's besides the point. Hydaelyn won't - I'm starting to suspect can't - tell us anything more. We're going to have to find our way from here without Her.

This is why I need to stop solving all my problems with murder.

What.

...But it might. There might be some fragment of his soul still in the Crystal Tower. Well, goddamn.

And so, I will go to the First. Y'shtola will seek to contact Hydaelyn in the aetherial sea. Alphinaud will rendezvous with the various world leaders and ascertain how far the Final Days are progressing. Estinien will--

????

Emet-Selch?

Are you...?

Hooooly Shit.

You can see me. You're not just narrating: you're watching me.

...And you know something I don't.

#ffxiv liveblog #rhesh'a tag #varshahn #vrtra #estinien varlineau #alphinaud leveilleur #fourchenault leveilleur #nidhana #hydaelyn #thancred waters #y'shtola rhul #g'raha tia #emet-selch #baseless speculation #thoughts on lore

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tnc-n3cl · 4 days ago

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For the ask game!!!

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

Thanks for the ask @zeawesomebirdie !

WIP ask game

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing…

For The Long Nightmare: The day they've dreaded has come, Calamity Ganon has returned and Zelda's powers have not yet awakened. To make matters worse, the demon was ready for them. Each Divine Beast was afflicted with a Blight that defeated its pilot. Through a twist of fate, Calamity Ganon needs the Champions alive in order to operate their Beasts.

And so Revali finds himself engulfed in Malice and no longer in control of his body. Miraculously his soul remained intact, but now he must maintain his sanity until whatever plan the Princess has enacted can come to pass. He has to wait for that knight to save him, or give in to despair and have his soul consumed...

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

There's a scene in The Long Nightmare, where Vah Medoh is giving Revali instructions on how to make a password to lock Windblight out of the controls. She mentions making it something only he would know, like a first love. Cue his naration that he's had "experiences", but he wouldn't exactly say he was in love with any of them. Vah Medoh cuts him off with, "This is no time to be lying to yourself, Master."

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

A scene from The Ballad of Kass, the next chapter actually, in which Kass and Rinili have settled in to their room at the Hotel Oasis in Gerudo Town when a visitor drops by. It's a little spoilery so I'll put it below a cut. (Kass and Rinili are wearing Rito lady's clothes with the Gerudo hood & veil)

A sudden knock on the door causes Kass to gasp and puff out his feathers. Rinili jumps out of bed, grabs one of his axes, and heads to the door. While griping the weapon tightly in his right wing, he grabs the door handle with his left wing. “Who is it?” He asks sternly. “Frita,” a voice beyond the door calls out, “Is Kass in there?” “Yes,” he responds as his feathers relax. “What do you want?” Rinili inquires. “I wanted to talk, can I come in?” Rinili looks to Kass for guidance and he nods yes. Rinli opens the door lets her in the room. As she walks past him, she glances down at the axe in his wing. She remarks, “You aren’t planning on using that on me, are you?” Rinili huffs as he shuts the door, “No, but as I had no idea who as at the door, and so I decided to err on the side of caution.” Then he walks over and sets the axe down by the rest of his equipment. Frita turns to Kass and eyes him up and down before smirking, “You look nice Kass.” He sighs, “Is there some reason for this visit beyond gawking at me in this getup?” She scoffs, “Obviously I was wondering what you were doing here,” then she glances at Rinili and motions her wing towards him, “With this stranger from Kariki Village.” Then she gasps, “You’re not having an affair, are you?!” Before Kass can respond, Rinili blurts out, “Oh no, you caught us. We’re having such a romantic time! In between Kass sticking his beak into my personal business and getting captured by the Yiga Clan, I get to watch him read musty old books for days.”

#answered asks #wip ask game #ask game

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holly-fixation · 11 months ago

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Three... Guards? Ch11

Summary: Tifa finds Cloud at the train station in Sector Seven. It’s the first time she’s seen him in seven years. But he’s not alone. Three silver haired boys protected him. Three silver haired boys that triggered memories of her hometown. Of steel through her chest. Of SOLDIER First Class. Of Him.

The truth cannot be denied any longer

Please Enjoy!

Inspired by the prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien

Chapter 11: Atonement and Malice

“Wings of light and dark spread afar

She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting.”

Strife sighed lowly. Why was someone quoting poetry down here? He doubted any Shinra executive would allow their prisoners the privilege of reading material.

“Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess

We seek it thus, and take to the sky.”

He needed to focus. If the Remnants got their hands on Jenova's corpse, it was over, everything was over if he stayed trapped down here, unable to fight.

“Ripples form on the water's surface

The wandering soul knows no rest.”

If the Remnants were still with his team, then he needed to prevent them from reaching the Calamity with everything he had.

“Three friends go into battle.

One is captured

One flies away

The one that is left becomes a hero.”

Strife searched the cell for any weakness in the glass or the joints to exploit. Any thinner glass or bending metal. He scanned every corner, trying to decide the easiest connection to break.

“Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul

Pride is lost

Wings stripped away, the end is nigh.

There is no hate, only joy

For you are beloved by the goddess

Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds.”

It would be a lot easier to focus if-

“My friend, do you fly away now?

To a world that abhors you and I?

All that awaits you is a somber morrow”

“I'll show you a somber morrow if you don't shut the hell up,” Strife muttered to himself as he kneeled closer to his potential target. He heard a soft sigh.

“Not one for the arts, are you?” The man sounded almost wistful. “What a shame. I figured I’d take the chance. You’re fresh fish, and no one currently here appreciates my craft.”

Strife stopped his search in small frustration. “Probably because shoving it down someone's throat is not a great way to introduce yourself.”

“I suppose that’s fair. But here we are conversing and you haven’t introduced yourself either.”

He ran a hand across the glass, feeling delicately for any changes in shape. “Won’t do you much good. I’m not staying here long.”

“Ah. A confident one I see?” The voice seemed vaguely amused. “I wish you luck. I have little desire to escape just yet.”

“I have to get out of here.”

“So you wish to escape for someone else or are you just selfish? Oh, or is it far more than one?”

Strife almost growled.

There was a pause. “Do you care to elaborate?” Not a hint of mockery or amusement remained.

“Not interested.”

“Come now, what else are we doing?”

“Not continuing this conversation I hope.”

“Hmph,” the other man contemplated. “You’re in real trouble then, aren’t you? Here I am trying to be neighborly and you keep shooting me down like a pest. I’ll proudly tell you I do not stay down for long.”

“If this doesn’t work, a lot of people are going to die.”

“How many?”

Strife chose not to answer. Clearly this conversation was going nowhere.

“Do you have an estimate?”

Strife didn’t respond.

“Very well then, I'll take a guess. Is it just a lot of people? Or The Planet?”

The blond halted. He stood, turning to the cell with the red blur. “What’s it to you?”

“It’s merely a shot in the dark. Those ecoterrorists have caused quite a stir among Shinra's staff.” The man just did not stop talking. “Bombing reactors. In all honesty, it’s not the worst plan if they had more help, but it won’t do nearly enough to save The Planet.”

“So you’re an ecoterrorist?”

The stranger released a melodious laugh. “Goddess, no. But Shinra is far from a friend of mine. Oh the tales I could weave… Experimentation, degradation, the destruction of my home town-”

“Where?” Strife couldn’t help but ask.

“Banora. You probably haven't heard of it. Our greatest export was apples and we didn't leave much of an impact on the world in the long run. A shame, really. Shinra enjoys setting their mistakes on fire instead of letting the public decide right and wrong.”

The blond exhaled darkly at his own realization. “Nibelheim… Corel... Banora isn't special. Damn…”

“...I truly apologize for my actions…” His words came deep and true, far too much emotion to be an outside observer. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “Nibelheim is my greatest regret…”

Strife froze. “What are you talking about?”

“I pushed Sephiroth into that library. I thought he would join me after learning the truth. I could not possibly have been more wrong.”

Rage filled his heart. “Who are you and what the hell are you talking about?”

“Former First Class SOLDIER: Genesis Rhapsodos.”

That name rang a bell. “The Red Mage of Shinra?”

“Long ago, yes. I fought alongside Sephiroth for many years. I was always jealous, and to shorten the tale of my woes, I wanted him to hurt as much as I wanted to make him an ally. I realize now how foolish that was. There are no dreams. No honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.”

Strife slammed his fist against the glass, and to his surprise, it cracked.

“I’ll never forgive myself for all I’ve done, but the goddess gave me a second chance. Even if the morrow is barren of promises, Nothing shall forestall my return. To become the dew that quenches the land. To spare the sands, the seas, the skies. I offer thee this silent sacrifice.”

“You are anything but silent.”

Genesis smirked. “Well, you’re right about that. But you now know my story. Would you share yours?”

Strife stilled for a moment. “I'm from Nibelheim. And I was there the day Sephiroth burned my home to the ground.”

“I truly apologize…”

“And he’s still here.”

The red headed soldier stood, disbelief in his voice. “He died in Nibelheim.”

“He refuses to stay dead.”

“He lost his mind. The Goddess would not grant him a second chance.”

“I don't have time to explain this to you.”

“If I aid your escape, will you fill me in?”

“Not interested.”

The man in the red coat gave a soft glance to the other. “If that glass shatters, you'll be surrounded in ten seconds, and the exit will close. We’re fairly deep and if that elevator cannot move, no one is getting out of here quickly. There are sensors to the left of the door. Leave them be and the silent alarm won’t sound.”

Strife glanced to confirm the advice. Sure enough, two whisker sensors rested at the top and bottom of the cell's outer ring. If either were touched, they would activate. Left alone, they only stood at the ready.

Genesis, for once, said nothing as he struck the glass multiple times and pierced through his own glass cage, each sensor completely untouched by fallen shards. The former soldier stepped through the remains and stood directly in front of Strife’s cell.

The blond glared hard but understood the silent request. “You won't believe my story.”

“You’d be surprised what I’ve put my faith in before.”

Strife sighed but figured no harm would come from his explanation: his past that would become their future if he was not thrown back in time with the Remnants of Sephiroth. They weaved through the hallways easily as if they traveled the path a hundred times. Each of the former SOLDIER's movements were like water, and rarely did he ever turn back and hold a finger to his lips in a gesture to silence.

Genesis genuinely could not prevent his thought from escaping his lips at the end of Strife’s tale, guilt bleeding from each syllable, “My friend, what did I do to you…?” He shook his head of red hair and returned a simple fact as they entered the elevator, “I’m going with you.”

“At this point, the more the merrier. Just stay out of my way.”

Thus the two rode the elevator to the highest floor available, no alarms or security approaching or stopping the ride. They rode this separate, inner elevator through nearly all of Shinra Tower, restricted only by their lack of key cards. Strife and Genesis silenced as they focused on finding any route into the labs undetected.

* * *

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Can you walk?”

“Do you need us to carry you?”

“What else can we do?”

“Is anything helping?”

“Will you stab us in the back?”

“Should I try healing with a different spell?”

Kadaj nearly groaned at the multitude of questions thrown his way. He was so unbelievably tired, but even without Hojo's direct intervention, this lab only made him feel worse. Mentally at least. He could walk now, not as fast as he wanted but enough to keep up.

Big Brother- well technically not Big Brother- demanded the children protect Kadaj instead of himself. The two kittens reluctantly followed the order, staying behind their youngest sibling as the group stood ahead, the smallest forcing his eyes ahead as Cloud took the lead. Their party stalked slowly through the examination hallways, spotting terrifying medical machines designed for gods know what through observation glass.

Loz could not help the defensive fear from plastering itself onto his face and into his heart as he stared into the rooms. Kadaj limped ahead, arms crossed in an X across his chest, one hand hooked with materia and one firmly planted on his neck, so only Yazoo saw and provided the slightest comfort to the eldest silver boy.

Barret and Red XIII guarded everyone’s back while keeping eyes on the remnants, checking for signs of escape or betrayal, yet none of the boys changed course in any way, following slowly and deliberately. Besides Kadaj were Aerith and Tifa, mostly Aerith offering encouragement as they moved forward. At the head of the pack stood Cloud, ready to defend them all with his life.

Why was Big Brother so emotional here? Whatever the reason, his emotion was likely the only reason Kadaj and his brothers were still breathing.

Through the dimly lit hallways and the chamber containing the youngest’s cell, the orange furred beast informed them of Hojo’s coming game, that the only reason they were allowed such freedom was for further experimentation. Cloud swore he’d play along until he had the chance to slice the scientist’s throat. No one argued with his sentiment.

Surprisingly they all fit in the elevator where both Kadaj and Big Brother passed out. Cloud and the triplets inhaled at the sight of a single black feather floating to the ground as the door closed and the platform rose. None of them spoke a word.

Who keeps a lab this dark?

The pack stepped onto a catwalk in the massive, multiple level atrium. Large tubes connected each segregated corridor to the central terminal, and mako pods lined the lowest floor. Their current path lined the circular wall, eventually leading them on a bridge to what could only be the crown jewel of Shinra's science department on display in a pristine glass tank.

“What the hell is that…?” Barret questioned.

“MOTHER!” Loz and Yazoo shouted at once, elation overwhelming in their young voices. Everyone else in their group saw a monster pretending to be human. They saw the perfect form of the Mother they never knew.

But Kadaj stepped away from the body of the woman while his brothers tried to run closer.

“Boys, wait!” Aerith and Tifa held the two elder remnants back.

��But it’s Mother!” Loz yelled desperately, unable to even think of harming Tifa to free himself. “She’s here! She’s really here!”

“Please let us see her…!” Yazoo pleaded, wriggling in Aerith’s grasp like a fish out of water. “Just once…!”

Kadaj craved their absolute happiness but found himself terrified, his chest tightening as his need to flee increased dramatically. Why was he feeling like this? What happened? What happened?! Why isn’t he happy?! This isn’t right!

Cloud looked back, his mouth open to give a warning but a shout erupting before he could speak. He clasped his blond locks and struggled to stand at the sudden agony shooting through his body, and Kadaj did the same.

“Cloud…?” Tifa wanted to be by her friend’s side, to pull him back to reality, but she froze at the sight before them, the silver haired boys in their arms suddenly attempting to draw weapons instead of escape.

Between their party and the body the children struggled to reach stood the Silver Soldier of their nightmares, long hair cascading down to the black leather coat and boots.

The shock forced most of their party back, but between Cloud's suffering and Kadaj's combined confusion, they stayed ahead.

Kadaj couldn't stop staring at the cage blocking Mother's face despite the cleaving agony in his mind, couldn't prevent the need to be close but the conflict in his body, his instincts screeching in dissonance to all he ever knew.

Escape over embrace.

Horror over happiness.

Terror over tranquility.

Despair over delight.

Rejection over Reunion.

“Tell me…” Cloud stubbled forward, weakened by his own mind, “Is it really you…?”

Rejection over Reunion.

The madman turned to them with a grin. Cloud gripped his arm as he keeled, trying to in any way lessen the phantom pain.

Rejection over Reunion.

Kadaj couldn't deny it any longer. He couldn't ignore the threats from him. He couldn't turn away from the injection that ejected his body and fused right before his eyes.

Mother rejected them here. After all they had done to finally reach her, to fix their mistake despite their lack of age and strength, to follow the only person on the planet that always found his way to Her, it didn’t matter. They lost Her when they fell in the mako reactor in their time, and now only this Sephiroth was given Her gift and Her love.

And he hated it.

They couldn't have Mother. She didn't want them here. Nothing they did would ever change that, no matter how much he wished it wasn't true. Sephiroth always found a way to get everything he wanted, even denying them this new chance in this new world.

A good son would have known.

Everything was over.

Go. Back.

But if he and his brothers couldn't have Mother, then no one will.

The materia in his hand blazed emerald as flames engulfed his left arm. The boy roared in rage as he fired, each projectile arching far beyond His reach. Mother's glass chamber shattered with chained explosions until Her body within seemed to shriek in the boiling and crackling hellfire of fury and betrayal, all caused by the remnant malice of Her true son from a different time.

To be continued...?

Thanks for reading!

Author's Note: Did you see it coming?

#ffvii #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #jenova #cloud strife #barret wallace #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough #red xiii #kadaj ff7 #loz ff7 #yazoo ff7 #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 remake #ff7r

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