#THE RAGE AND SORROW AND VENGEANCE AND HOPE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tinietaehyun · 8 months ago

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Forsaken [XV]

[Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader] [Series] [Chapter Fifteen]

Pairing: Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader [Ft. Sorcerer!Yeonjun]

Genre(s): Fantasy, romance, enemies to lovers, supernatural, action.

Contains: Profanity, mentions of slightly graphic injury, blood/blood-loss, stabbing, burns.

Links: Forsaken Masterlist || Masterlist

Summary: Bound in chains, hope seemed bleak. You hope Taehyun would come to save you but at the same time you didn’t want him risking his life at the hand of his former friend now foe. It seemed all tension had been building up to this moment in which life and death were hanging in the balance.

You wonder how your story would turn out? How would Taehyun’s story turn out? Would you two even be alive after this to tell the tale?

Kneeling down, with trembling hands, Taehyun peers at the remaining embers of his beloved cabin. The smell of burnt wood and singed soil and foliage permeates the air.

He had never expected it to turn out this way. As he saw the tufts of smoke whilst picking the berries, he immediately knew something was up. A horrid gut feeling that you were in danger, that something was incredibly wrong. So he ran. Ran as though his life depended on it. It did, after all, you were his new life, his new hope in the right direction.

Though when he arrived at the scene it was just a little too late. The flames roared and crackled at the hollow cabin which fell and crumbled as though it were paper. His years- no, his father’s years of hardwork, now in ashes and pieces. The things he’s collected over the years from merchants and his occasional travels. Now gone. He had quelled down the fire with a hasty spell.

He peers down at his satchel, at least he still had his father’s spells in his crinkled notebook and his wand. He wouldn’t know what to do if they got destroyed. Tears drip down his face; the only photograph with his father was in there. Now incinerated into nothing.

Taehyun’s nails dig into the soil as his sorrow slowly forms into rage and his hands form fists. You. Initially he had ran into the flames seeking you, but you were nowhere. For once he was grateful that you were not in sight, he’d rather you be missing than be burnt to death in such a horrid manner.

More tears drip down his face as his body rattles in anger. He had taken you, he had taken his home and his little remaining memories. Choi Yeonjun, that sick and twisted bastard.

Now he had taken his one source of pure joy, his heart; you. God knows, what condition you were in? Taehyun is enraged at the thought of his hands dragging you away against your will, your screams, your fights. Knowing Yeonjun, he probably used magic to succumb your fierce retaliation.

“You’re going to fucking pay for this, Yeonjun,” Taehyun grits his head hung low; voice shaky.

“You’ll regret ever crossing me,” his tone laced with sheer malice. He’d make Yeonjun beg for mercy, beg to die rather than be kept alive. He’d unleash all these years of pent up anger and vengeance in one go.

Yeonjun had to be stopped once and for all. He had to keep you safe, save you. Because, you were his new world. Even if he would lose his life in the process, someone as pure-hearted and noble as you should stay and make this little slice of the world a better place.

He’d get you safe away from Yeonjun’s cruel grasp. Taehyun knew you’d not be in good hands, hell, he knew you wouldn’t be alive for much longer. Yeonjun was smart, sly and by dragging you there, Taehyun was sure to follow. Taehyun knew he'd have to face his long time ex-best friend and rival again.

Once and for all.

Taehyun stands up, wiping away his tears and brushing himself off and slinging the satchel over his right shoulder. With heavy steps he begins walking along the eroded path towards the edge of the Woods of Mors, undoubtedly for the last time ever. He would go to the Palace of Fortuna to confront Yeonjun.

———————

Shakily you peer down at your wrists now aching from the harsh metal cuffs grinding against your skin as you knelt in front of the throne your father once sat on.

Anger seethes within you; the throne that you were the rightful heir to. The throne that people would risk their life to sit on, to abuse their power and manipulate the people to their whims.

“Goodness, does it hurt? The chains?” A voice cuts through your tormented mind. You peer up seeing Yeonjun walking toward you with a pleased smile, “Oh princess, it really is unbecoming of you to be on the floor, kneeling in chains no less, but alas, what can we do? Fate is just ever so,” he crouches in front of you, “Cruel.”

You glare into his eyes with sheer hatred. His eyes glimmer as though he was amused by your little act of bravery. “Come now, glaring? How adorable, as if that’s going to scare me into removing your chains.”

“Scared I’ll escape?” You sneer. Yeonjun muses, “Well not scared, just don’t want to take any chances. I’ve come this far after all. This whole ordeal has taken a far longer time than I’d have liked it to.” You glare, “What, like manipulating Sehun like a puppet for years?”

“Precisely! You get me princess,” he chuckles making you grimace. “How tirsome it was to cater to his foolish whims and flatter him. It really does make me think I could have gone for you if I had waited a little. Then again, you are far smarter than him.”

You scoff, “You are disgusting. Gaining power through killing, treachery, betrayal. To think you’ll become king makes my stomach churn and heart burn with rage.”

He coos, “Oh how unfortunate you think that way. I think I’d be a great king, I’ll take Fortuna to new heights and make us see new horizons. Though, I suppose you wouldn’t believe me. Either way, you won’t be there to see it,” he eerily smiles. You stiffen; he was serious about ending your life.

“Why are you keeping me here? It’s almost been an entire day..” you snarl. Your knees were numb from this. Was this a punishment of sorts or did he derive some sort of sadistic pleasure from seeing you like this? All beaten down and helpless?

Yeonjun stands with a wicked smile, “Well, good question. If I got rid of you, that would leave your accomplice behind, no? Oh he’s a slippery sorcerer, always keeping away from the public eye. So, I thought, since he finds you rather special…” Your brain whirrs and you connect the dots. With wide eyes you stammer, “You want him here?”

“Oh he’s probably already on his way. Almost nearby? Who knows? But what I do know is that knowing his temper, he is going to come for me whether I like it or not.” Yeonjun grins. He places his hands behind his back as he leisurely paces around, “Enraged that I burnt his home to ashes, that I took his beloved, and well of course all our previous history too. Oh I bet he is just itching to take me down!”

You stare at Yeonjun in disgust. How arrogant! Your eyes water, Taehyun’s cabin, you couldn’t imagine how much he had lost. A small inkling of guilt forms inside you; if you were there he would have been fine. His cabin unscathed, Taehyun’s life undisturbed but no, you just had to drag him into all your mess. He had already suffered enough hasn't he? Yet here he was suffering once more.

Yeonjun gazes down at you and notices your tears dripping down and his eyes darken, “Oh what’s this? The mere mention of his name has you breaking down? Goodness you must love him ever so much, hm?” He scoffs, releasing a “tch.”

“What does he have anyway? To garner the attention of a princess. I suppose he always did aim high.” You snap outraged, “Stop it! Stop talking and leave me be with your condescending nonsense! Enough!” A sob escapes your lips.

If Taehyun came here, his life would be at risk. Though at the same time you wanted him here. No, he was capable and could handle himself. Trust him, y/n. Trust him.

“Oh and…do you still remember that little knight of yours?” Yeonjun muses. You stiffen, “Kai- Kai what did you do to him, you bastard?!” Yeonjun releases a laugh, “Oh my, calm down princess. He’s alive. Barely, alive but alive nonetheless.” You whimper pitifully, “Why? He didn’t do anything!”

“He was supposed to bring you back way earlier. He disobeyed Sehun’s orders. I thought back then, that he would indeed be a thorn in my side later on. Because I knew, he’d be your ally not mine,” Yeonjun apathetically hums. You cry out, “Don’t kill him please, I’ll convince him not to get involved. You can even relieve him of his position as a knight please!”

Yeonjun chuckles, “This is rather pathetic of you princess. It’s not about what you want, remember that. Maybe if he stayed an obedient and well trained knight, he’d still be commander and be well, by my side, healthy.” You weep pitifully as memories of Kai run through your mind; your most recent back at the palace where he let his feelings for you go.

“Sehun made the warden give him a severe whipping everyday, don’t know how he’s still alive actually, quite the resilient man, hm?” You sob harder; your beloved knight had suffered because you didn’t go back with him. So many people around you suffered. Now your people were going to suffer with a tyrant on the throne.

You grit out sniffling, “You’re nothing but a shadow of the man you want to be. You’ll always be inferior to him, even if you are king, it won’t change the fact that your father stole his father’s spell book that you copied everything that had and stole his position not through your own-“ he grabs your hair pulling it harshly back with his hand forming a fist; you yelp in pain.

“Shut that fucking mouth of yours, you spoiled brat. I was trying to be as nice as I could yet you and your brother were always so talkative at the wrong times. What a fucking nuisance.” He twists and pulls harder making more tears roll down, “Stay still, keep quiet and sit pretty, understand? I’ve had enough of your chitchat.”

You snarl, “Fuck-ah, you!-“ His eyes widen and he lets out a laugh, “Princess has learnt to cuss has she? Oh, how cute.” You writhe as he tugs at your hair painfully. Suddenly, he lets go, making you collapse against the floor with a loud rattle of chains.

Ragged breaths escape your lips as you gaze fiercely upon him. His smile, sly and cunning, as though a snake slithering towards its prey. You hated it. “Now don’t exhaust yourself, and sit tight alright? I’ll come check on you here and there, keep you company until-“

Before he can finish responding; a large sound akin to an explosion resounds in the palace. Even the ground vibrates with slight force at whatever impact caused it. What on Earth? Another large bang resounds out and noticeable commotion begins as guards rush out of the throne room and panicked maids flurry here and there.

Yeonjun’s gaze darkens and his lips form a twisted smile. He outstretches his hand out, closing his eyes as though sensing something. Yeonjun nods to himself before humming, “Ah, it seems your beloved is here to save the day. Huh, even quicker than I expected. He must really love you, either that, or he is enraged at me.”

Your heart races; he could sense Taehyun? Of course he could! Taehyun was here? Nervousness brims within you; he was in the palace! You wanted to see his face again; be in his arms again where you felt safe as if nothing or no one could hurt you.

The clatter of armor resounds as a knight heaves for breath rushing in. “Yeo-Your highness, there is a violent intruder, black cloak- high energy sorcery, we believe it’s-“

“I know who it is, you fool. Where is he? Has he made it inside the palace?” Yeonjun slices in sharply.

The knight shakes, “Sire- I-I don’t know, I ran to tell you the news, they were trying their best to fend him off, but he’s-he’s deranged. There were men flying everywhere; getting thrown like mere dolls into the walls!”

Yeonjun runs his hands through his hair, letting out a manic laugh, “Of course. He’s furious! As expected.”

“He-“ the knight begins but lets out a piercing scream of agony as he suddenly crumples to the floor and falls unconscious writhing. Your eyes widen in shock as you peer up seeing a very familiar black cloak.

The eery echo of his footsteps resound as he enters the throne room; his eyes are malevolent, an intense rage you had never seen in Taehyun’s eyes before, mixed with hurt. The dark aura radiating off of him was entirely something else.

His wand outstretched pointed where he previously knocked out the knight now aimed straight at Yeonjun. You clamber up haphazardly writhing in your chains as you call out in desperation, “Taehyun!”

This seems to have snapped him out of his ferocity and his eyes instantly soften, “Y/n!” His eyes flicker down to your cuffed wrists and his jaw clenches, “Those chains…” He hated it, someone like you in chains as though you were a despicable criminal or lowly scum.

Taehyun snarls peering at Yeonjun who peers at him with a chillingly calm smile, “You fucking bastard, to think you couldn’t sink any lower.”

“I see your abilities are in rather good condition. Took out Fortuna’s soldiers with ease, hm? Then again, I suppose a sword or spear won’t do much against sorcery,” Yeonjun muses.

Taehyun snaps walking forward, “Be serious. Do not jest when you have caused so much suffering and turmoil for those around you, even to this day. How low can you continue to stoop?”

“Oh no, I only continue to rise-“ Yeonjun begins. You spit out seething, “To be king? How despicable.” Taehyun’s lips form a sneer, “All this to be king? You?” Taehyun scoffs, “Oh you’d only bring disaster for this nation as if it isn’t in shambles anyway after Sehun’s mismanagement.”

“Well, I took care of Sehun, and I plan to take care of the results of his incompetent decision making, no need to fret, Taehyun,” Yeonjun snarks. Taehyun snaps, “To think I once called you my best friend.”

Yeonjun hums scathingly, “I could say the same. Though it is rather amusing to meet you after all these years, you’ve grown quite alike to your father. It irks me truly.”

Taehyun’s gaze darkens, “Having stole his legacy, his hardwork, siding with your pathetic excuse of a father, I think I should be irked, appalled in fact. That you’re in the place where my father should be, where I should be.”

“Still as arrogant as ever. I suppose the Kang Bloodline is the only suitable lineage for the Royal Sorcerer position, hm?” Yeonjun sneers, stepping forward agitated. Taehyun says infuriated, “Not if you genuinely worked hard and earned the position, but no, you betrayed me, you betrayed everyone, you manipulated your way to where you are now.”

Taehyun points his wand at him as he walks forward, “You are nothing without using other people for your own benefit and leeching off them. That’s what sets us apart.”

Yeonjun loses his patience as he unleashes a powerful wave of magic from his wand aimed at Taehyun. You squint seeing flashes of different colours flying back and forth. The air in the room feels charged from the amount of mana being generated. You scoot back leaning against the wall mortified at the scene. You were incredibly worried for Taehyun.

The two sorcerers unleash an array of different spells and attacks dancing around each other, ducking and dodging, creating barriers and force fields, orbs and flashes which illuminate the room. It’s an horrifically beautiful sight; in which two men once the best of friends viciously attack one another warping and sprinting, skidding and sliding.

Taehyun snarls in pain as a spell singes and sizzles against his skin, burning. He flicks his wand in an intricate pattern putting some distance between himself and Yeonjun.

Yeonjun breathes out with a deranged glint in his eyes, “Why are you backing away? I thought you were better than that?” A breathless chuckle leaves his lips as he releases an onslaught of mana orbs directed at Taehyun. He tries his best to dodge but some still scathe him.

Taehyun ducks and unleashes an intense wave of mana, glowing a bright red making Yeonjun skid back and stumble; his skin prickles and burns. The two partake in a dangerous dance waving and elegantly flicking their wands as numerous spells are cast second by second.

As Taehyun recovers, he peers back at you briefly. Your eyes glaze over with tears; your eyes widen to warn Taehyun, “Taehyun!- Watch out!”

A fist lands against Taehyun’s nose and he is knocked down. Blood drips down his lips and chin as he coughs. Yeonjun sneers down his wand pointed, “Oh you don’t understand how long I’ve been aching to do that. I must have surely broken your nose, hm?”

Taehyun grits his teeth; you shake seeing the blood as tears fall from your face. No! No! Taehyun attempts to get up but Yeonjun kicks him down; pressing his boot down on his chest, twisting painfully down onto his sternum. “Stay down, there’s no need to get up.”

Taehyun grunts in pain finding it difficult to breathe; the pressure on his chest becoming more agonising by the second. “You’ve gotten sloppy, you know, I suppose it’s only natural when you’ve been isolated for so long.” Yeonjun hums darkly, leaning down and putting more pressure on his foot, “I know every spell you do, after all. Don’t think of me as the same little kid you could beat each time, Taehyun. Times have changed.”

You release a piercing scream, “Leave him be! He’s going to die at this rate! Please!” Your body wracks with sobs. Taehyun’s face becomes pale and he heaves for breath. It hurt you incredibly to see him like this in pain, so downtrodden. What was happening? Had you both underestimated Yeonjun?

“Hush, hush, princess, it won’t be too long. I’ll make his death somewhat peaceful.” Taehyun grits out, “You fucking-ah, piece of shit- you’ll-“ he coughs once more. Yeonjun hums sadistically, “You know what, I’ll even let you join him right after. Aren’t I generous? Two lovers joint in death? Almost romantic.”

Taehyun writhes and kicks; lifting his shaking hand with his wand. Your eyes widen and you suddenly shout, “Taehyun my chains!” Before Yeonjun could even process the raspy words being uttered out of Taehyun’s lips; your chains violently rattle and then shatter off you.

Yeonjun snarls, “You-“ With all your might, you stand and charge at him, you need to give Taehyun a chance to fight. Yeonjun is forced to move his leg off Taehyun and he aims his wand at you sending a large sizzling flash of mana at you. You narrowly miss it and you run forwards, arms outstretched as you shove him back; he lets out a laugh; grabbing your wrist and twisting it back painfully, “You’re pitifully naive, princess.”

You yelp in pain, and Taehyun grunts, getting up slowly, steadying himself and gaining his breath back. Blood now drying up on his chin and philtrum. You scream and writhe in his grasp. Yeonjun begins uttering another enchantment and you feel the air around you heat up.

Taehyun hisses aiming a few large mana intense orbs at Yeonjun; he shoves you aside and attempts to dodge. One of the orbs lands on his shoulder he shudders in pain and grunts. Taehyun lunges forward sending an onslaught of attacks.

You whine brushing yourself off as you watch the two engage in combat; this time a mixture of sorcery and physical combat. Taehyun gets a few punches in here and there. The two men fight with a new fire in their eyes.

Yeonjun sneers, “You think I can’t take the two of you on? Your fighting is futile.” Your eyes widen hearing more knights (albeit slightly injured) rush in. They all charge toward Taehyun. You yell, “Taehyun!”

Taehyun peers around and is met with a sword slicing into his shoulder; he cries out in pain. You snarl at the men, “Hold your weapons! Gods above please!” The knights peer at you in hesitation; some follow through backing away whilst the majority ignore your command.

Taehyun grits out, “You’re pathetic. Can’t even face me one of one.” Yeonjun shrugs, blood dripping from his lips, “Not my fault they’re so loyal, who am I to deny such help?”

Taehyun haphazardly fights back the soldiers and charges his wand sending a large energy wave sending them flying back violently. Yeonjun holds his ground skidding back a few metres.

You pant in panic, you needed to help. Quickly, your eyes scan the room and you spot the mounted swords on the wall. You peer at the two who seem distracted in their fight and you pull and heave until one of the swords comes off with an unpleasant scrape. It was heavy; you’d only used a sword a handful of times.

At this point, you were willing to do anything even if it may seem imbecilic. At the end of the day, a sharp blade is a sharp blade. You jog over with your sword in hand and raised behind Yeonjun. With a harsh cry you swing forward; Yeonjun’s eyes widen and he narrowly ducks and rolls just missing it.

“Oh, oh, I see. How clever,” Yeonjun snaps. Taehyun muses breathlessly, “Clever indeed,” he sends a large bolt of mana from behind and Yeonjun growls in pain, his knees buckling. You hoist the sword up once more and bring it down, Yeonjun rolls out of the way. Exhaustion is beginning to take a toll on his body.

“Give up!” You bellow with hatred in your tone. Taehyun sends a harsh kick into Yeonjun’s side causing him to cough violently.

Your eyes note how his fingers wrap around his wand; you had to get him at disadvantage. It seemed Taehyun noticed the same thing. He tosses you his wand and rips the sword from your hands before he plunges the sword into Yeonjun’s hand; blood splatters across your dress and you scream, your eyes clamp shut at the gory scene; something that would be forever imprinted in your mind. A disturbing squelch of flesh and blood resounds making you feel awfully nauseous.

Yeonjun screams in agony as Taehyun pulls out the tip of sword from his hand. Yeonjun’s wand rolls out pitifully on the floor and you quickly grab ahold of it.

Taehyun’s face is splattered with blood; a menacing gaze in his eyes as he peers down at Yeonjun writhing and curled up in immeasurable pain. You had never expected him to take initiative let alone so violently like that. You tremble stepping back. Taehyun heaves, wiping the blood with his sleeve.

“You think you’re so fucking clever, always ahead.” Tears run down Yeonjun’s face; his vision blurring as overwhelming pain consumes him. Blood pools around his hand and arm.

“Your arrogance has always held you back. Your ego. Don’t you think, I hated the fact that your father always demeaned you. Why else would I insist for you to improve? Perhaps the way I encouraged you could have been better, but you? You pay back our years of friendship with betrayal? By agreeing to exiling my father and me?” Taehyun loudly bellow; his voice laden with conviction and years worth of pent up anger.

“Do you know how many nights I’ve imagined just stabbing into you? Ripping you and your father to shreds for what you did,” Taehyun pants out. “You. You were the one who painted yourself as the victim, you were the one who ignored all my attempts to talk things out! The fucking audacity to then go after the throne as if stealing my father’s position wasn’t enough!” Taehyun roars ferociously.

You couldn’t even tell if Yeonjun was processing anything; with how much pain he was in. All you could see was unadulterated hatred in Yeonjun’s fatigued gaze.

“I fucking cared for you Yeonjun. I really did. I may have been an egotistical piece of shit at times, but I wanted to see you do well, to grow beside me,” Taehyun rasps out, a tear drips down his cheek. “I hated seeing you so down. Seeing you so broken at times. Do you know how much it hurt to see you go play with Sehun and toss me aside as if I meant nothing? I knew you were jealous, I knew it.” His voice wavers as he speaks.

Yeonjun grunts; growing more agitated. He murmurs slurred, “Shut…your mouth. Don’t, fuckin’ know shit.”

Taehyun outstretches his hand towards you, “My wand.” You peer at him with wide eyes; surely he wasn’t going to do what you think he was?“Taehyun you’re not going to-“

“Give me the wand,” he insists. You shakily hand it over. No! He was going to kill him! “Think about this Taehyun! Wait!”

Yeonjun smiles lethargic, almost lucidly, “Oh. Is this what it’s come to?” He coughs. He rasps out, “Yes, yes do it. Even now,” Yeonjun’s eyes tear up as he uses all his energy and might to speak, “After so much planning and effort, fate seems to favour you-“ he coughs once more. Leaning his head back, he closes his eyes, “Do it. End my life, I know you’ve b-been craving to do so.”

Taehyun releases a chuckle; “Kill you? No, you deserve something far worse than death.” Taehyun grunts as he crouches down, “You deserve to know how those you beat down thrive in front of your eyes.”

“Wait, wait I-“ You stammer. Taehyun shakes his head, “As much as I’d like to give him a second chance at things, it’s clear he’ll only try again.” Yeonjun sighs, “How…irritating.” Yeonjun grows more pale.

“You’re a disgrace to Fortuna’s Legacy of Sorcery, my father’s legacy,” Taehyun snaps lowly, standing up. You shakily watch on, stunned into silence. He takes Yeonjun’s wand from your hands and with a swift motion he snaps it in half. A pained cry rips out Yeonjun’s lips.

A solemn expression paints Taehyun’s face as he peers down at Yeonjun. He’s clearly hurt. He doesn’t want to be doing this. No, he wishes this never would have happened in the first place. Pained memories of him and Yeonjun as children flood his mind. His heart aches seeing his ex-best friend on the floor bloodied, having to handle him so cruelly.

A good, talented soul, soiled by his father’s greedy ambitions and his own jealousy. Oh, what Taehyun wouldn’t do to reverse time to stop Yeonjun’s unfortunate fate.

Voice cracking, Taehyun murmurs, “I wish I could have helped you more, if it were to prevent all this.” Yeonjun’s expression is blank. He murmurs, “Save,” he rasps, “your disgusting pity.”

“You’ll be imprisoned.” You cut in, “For treason, attempt to assassinate the heir to the throne, any other murders you’ve committed. You’ll be tried in front of the remaining Royal Court.”

Yeonjun lies there with an empty expression. One that mirrors an individual who had nothing else to live for. A former husk of what he once was. Taehyun winces; the very same court who exiled him and his father. What a cruel and twisted turn of events.

“Taehyun will be reinstated as the Royal Sorcerer, after further investigation and clarification with the Royal Court,” you peer down, “Mark. My. Words, Yeonjun. You will not be coming out of your cell with that many crimes upon you.” Yeonjun peers at you with the scariest gaze you’ve ever seen. His lips form a grim smile, “But, of course.” You scoff, peering away, a shudder going down your spine.

A bustle of footsteps resound out and Taehyun and you look ahead seeing many courtiers, barons and chancellors accompanied by a few knights rush in. Their eyes are already mortified, presumably by the damage Taehyun left behind and now more so by the current sight in front of them.

“Princess! You’re safe!” One of the steps forward and you icily snap, “Do not show me your false concern. I’ll be rid of you one by one, it’s about time the Royal Court is due for a spring cleaning. I need to find where my true loyalties lie.” The noblemen peer at each other with unease, “No princess- we can-“

Shaking your head, you respond coldly, “Save your pathetic excuses. The vast majority of you sided with Sehun, then Yeonjun. It is clear you are all a bunch of useless lapdogs who will switch to whatever side is most convenient! I have no need for pitiful members like that at my court.” A loud silence permeates the room with your sharp words.

“Do I make myself clear?” You snap. The men bow. “One of you get a healer, and begin recalling the servants to their stations, there’s a lot to clean up. I’m sure the public will hear about it by this evening, so the scribe should get a statement ready.” One by one they filter out as Taehyun watches you distracted as give out commands with ease. This was a side he hadn’t seen from you, you had so much determination and resolve…such power.

Yeonjun lies defeated in his own pool of blood. The world around him blurs and unblurs; he can’t quite ascertain what was going on around him. All he knew is that from this point onward he was going to rot in a cobbled cell and go insane. All this meticulous planning, only for fate to cross him over! Couldn’t he just have one thing? Couldn’t he be superior? Couldn’t he win for once in his life? Why couldn’t he get retribution for his sufferings?

No. No, he couldn’t rot away inside a dingy cell to his death. This could not be how it ends. He had nothing left to live anymore for so why must he be forced to live in a cell for god knows how long? That is the utmost cruelty.

Taehyun peers back at Yeonjun who peers dazed in his own thoughts. A few palace healers rush in and you point towards Taehyun and Yeonjun. “Save Yeonjun, his hand is incredibly bleeding. Take care of Taehyun’s cuts, bruises and burns,” you order.

Yeonjun attempts to resist the healer’s treatment by yelling and grunting, “No-!“ A few more knights hold him down. The entire sight makes Taehyun feel sick. He knew Yeonjun’s entire reason to live was shattered. Most probably he wanted to die.

Yeonjun’s eyes meet fiercely with Taehyun’s as he grits out, “I fucking hate you, Kang Taehyun. I hate you…!”

You watch Taehyun's restrained expression. Your heart feels heavy at the scene. You knew he was holding back watching as Yeonjun attempted to be treated; held down like some sort of rabid animal.

It was a truly pitiful scene. You walk over grasping his hands tightly in yours and look up at him. “You’re truly so strong, Taehyun. I’m sorry things had to turn out this way. I wish things could have turned out differently.”

He weakly smiles squeezing your hands back, “Perhaps. What’s done is done. There’s nothing I can do now. He’s not remorseful in the slightest. It’s only a fitting end. He’ll only end up endangering others. His only goal got ripped away from him, he’s bound to be unstable.”

You nod with a frown. Taehyun hums, “You’ve got your throne back, princess.” You didn’t feel quite as happy as you should be. You were supposed to be overjoyed weren't you? This was your entire mission. You murmur, “I suppose. But at what cost?”

Taehyun remains silent; his eyes glancing over in Yeonjun’s direction, a newfound quietness resounds as he had finally passed out in the arms of the knights. “…at what cost,” he repeats to himself. They carry him away as though he were a rag doll.

“He’s getting what he deserves, Taehyun. The things he’s done are unforgivable. Remember that,” you murmur resolutely. He nods slowly, “I…yes. You’re right.”

“Take all the time you need, I’ll be by your side no matter what, Taehyun,” you reassure with a small smile. After all, for this long he had been beside yours. He pulls you into his arms wincing slightly at his injuries. The warmth helps you both ease down.

Closing your eyes and leaning against his chest, you hear his racing heart beside your ear.

You softly murmur, “It will be okay. We will be okay.”

Taglist: [open]

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blissfulcrow · 26 days ago

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Way Home is Through You

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60094282/chapters/153862384

Link to first part: https://www.tumblr.com/blissfulcrow/765505943344693248/way-home-is-through-you-chapter-1-blissfulcrow?source=share

Hey yall! An update!! Let me know if you guys are enjoying this series. I am considering a beta reader so hit me with a DM if you're interested.

Chapter 2: Give Me A Reason To Believe

A hurried shuffling could be heard through the streets. Once white sneakers were desperately fumbling over sidewalks, hoping to escape this freakishly strange night's events. The glass of a long broken streetlamp crunched under her footfalls, eliciting a curse from her shaky lips. “Fucking shit!” she choked out. “Just my fucking luck, narrowly escaped a grave-robbing mime just to bust up my last pair of decent shoes. Fuck!”

She skidded around the corner, narrowly missing drunken patrons from the bar down the road. She didn't care; she needed to go home to sleep off this bad dream. When she woke up in the morning, it would all be okay. Finally, she arrived in front of her less-than-perfect apartment building. Steading her hand, she punched in the passcode, and as soon as the door lock clicked, she was in the building like lightning. Climbing up the five-set staircase on any regular day was an unpleasant struggle, but the adrenaline making its way through her body made her barge through her apartment door before anyone could see her. She didn't want to answer any questions from concerned neighbours; manners don't matter in dreams, right?

Hurling her bag in a haphazard direction, she couldn't be bothered to see where it landed. Her focus was on the bed. As she stripped down, all she could think was:

‘You're fine, you'll be fine. Just a bad dream.’Pulling back the covers of her bed, she threw herself into it, wrapping the blankets around her head, protecting herself from the outside world. A mantra over in her head like a stuck record, ‘You're okay, just sleep. You're okay; just sleep. You're okay, just sleep.’

Scenes flashing, A couple, tenderly embracing.

Happiness. Comfort. Love.

A soft gold engagement ring emerges from a box, soft gasps and bright laughter.

Shock. Euphoria. Love.

The man entering his home witnessing his partner being pinned and assaulted. Next thing he knows, he’s plummeting out the window.

Rage. Injustice. Love.

His partner, battered and bruised, still holding onto life. Thirty hours pass before she dies.

Anguish. Pain. Love.

He claws his way out of his supposedly final resting place.

Hatred. Grief… Vengeance.

Jolting awake, her eyes wild with confusion, she tries to breathe. So much sorrow, so many thoughts and feelings, flood through her mind. Clawing at her chest to self-soothe, she weakly attempts to ground herself. Her heart was heavily thumping through her ears, and she barely registered the taps from the window. Scrambling out of bed, she throws on an old shirt and some shirts. Making her way over, she rips open the curtain. A black crow sits on the damp window cill, surely not the one from before? She heaved the heavy pane open to shoo the bird away, but it had other ideas, quickly ducking past her flailing hands and hopping its way into the apartment. Her eyes meet the birds, and the flashes start again.

The leather trench coat.

Crow symbols alight.Knives.Needles.Cars.

“Tell them Eric Draven sends his regards.”

A name beating in her head like a violent drum. ‘Eric Draven’

She mutters that name as she pushes papers away, ignoring the bird that followed close behind her as she scrambles to find her laptop on the cluttered dining table.

Her hands tremble as she opens up her jacked computer, anxiously tapping the on button. Despite that, the laptop takes its sweet time loading up. As soon as the browser opens, she begins furiously typing the name.

The first article to pop up:

‘Recently Engaged Couple Murdered on Devils Night’

Young couple Eric Draven (member of the band ‘Hangman’s Joke’) and his fiancee Shelly Webster were found on the infamous holiday ‘Devils Night’ dead at their apartment. Eric was found with multiple gunshot and stab wounds, but the coroner reports that his official cause of death was the drop from their top-floor apartment. Shelly was taken into intensive care and 30 hours later died from her injuries.

Her stomach dropped to the floor as she read the rest of the article. All this happened 19 years ago?

As she skimmed through her browser, she came across a picture with this ‘Eric’. It was him! The lurker from the cemetery, with less make-up, but it was him. How? The article was almost 20 years old, but he looked no older than his late 20s! This is beyond crazy; people don't come back from the dead.

‘Maybe it's just some poser who read about the article and thought it would be a cool way to prank people. That doesn’t explain the visions, though. Maybe it is just a mental break’

A banging on her door pulled her from her downward spiral. Oh no…

Slowly, she inched towards the door, trying to get a glimpse through the peephole without making any noise. Peering through, it was him, the living dead guy. She began to back away slowly; maybe he would assume she wasn't there if she didn't answer. That was the idea before an obnoxious cawing sounded behind her, throwing away any chance of her avoiding the interaction. She opened the door, trying not to show her fear outwardly. For a moment, neither said anything, letting the suspense linger in the musty hallway air. Finally as if a gift from some higher power, he held something out to her. “You dropped this.” He stated, face unreadable.

“Oh.” It was her license, making it entirely less creepy that he knew where she lived. She took the tiny card from him, a small smile forming. “I appreciate that I didn't have to pay for a whole new one, thank you. You really didn't need to come all the way here for this, though,” she chuckled awkwardly. “It’s not the reason I came, " he said bluntly. His eyes bore into hers, but she couldn't read him. “May I come in?”

“No offence, but I don’t actually know you and I don't have a habit of letting every person who rocks up into my humble abode.”

“The documents on your table tell me otherwise; you’ve been investigating.” Referring to the open tab with a picture of Eric. “How did yo-” She turned away from him to gaze back at her laptop to find he was already there in front of it.

“What the fuck! How did you..? You were just..?” She frantically pointed between the laptop and the hallway, trying to rationalise the fact that this apparently dead guy made it from one point to another in 0.5 seconds.

Her reactions, to an extent, amused him; it's a lot better than being shot at or stabbed. He understood her fear but was desperate for help; she seemed someone who could help him navigate this world.

“Your scepticism is warranted but pointless. I don’t know why I am here; all I know is I am stuck in this shithole again and have no clue how to return.” His voice raised at the end, his hopelessness slipping through. He had returned without Shelly before; what cruel world would do this to him again?

“Do you think that person in the cape had anything to do with it?” “I haven't the faintest idea. The last time I came back was because of the crow.” He shared, pointing to his feathered friend. “And she assures me this wasn’t her doing.”

“You talk to the bird?”

“In a sense, not like you and I are now. It is like we are connected on a deep level.” He stated as he made his way around the apartment, taking in the decorations. It was an admittedly small apartment, realistically only needing to house one person. The wall was unsystematically plastered with odds and ends, photos, concert stubs, and anything that made it feel like home. The furniture was a juxtaposition of different styles. Red-stained wood chairs that looked antique were slid under a white chipped particleboard table. The state of her home reflected her innermost feelings: neglected and cluttered.

He seemed to be trying to figure something out from the decorations; eyes furrowed in concentration as he poked and prodded at a poster.

“I like your decor. Reminds me of mine and Shelly’s place.”

Her stance softened, and she felt pity for him. From what she read, they really seemed infatuated with each other, and in this case, that love was undying. She always had a soft spot for a tragic romance and felt compelled to try at least to help him get back home.

“Alright, man, sit down and explain it. I’ll see what help I can be.” She said, walking over to the couch to straighten it up for the present company. For the first time since he returned, Eric’s gloomy face held a small, although genuine, smile.

“Thank you.”

#eric draven x reader #love #fanfic #eric draven #pop culture #popular #for you #brandon lee #the crow #fanfiction #eric draven x you #the crow x reader #the crow 1994 #the crow x you #the crow movie

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alicentswife1 · 7 months ago

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Rhaenyra’s and Alicent’s sides.

I hope people understand the symbolism of this. Imma explain anyway. So right side is obvious alicent. I chose the first picture (snake one) to symbolize her relationship with the men around her (Otto, Viserys) who are the snake ready to bite her and poison her should she not do what they want. So she does what they tell her to do, but she gets poisoned anyway which leads us to the next pic where I wanted to show her sadness and melancholy for lost innocence and all the grief she carries with her (her mother, rhaenyra, her youth, innocence, life, etc.). She lives in a prison now. Next one is lady of sorrows (because alicent is a strong follower of the faith) she looks very similar to her on driftmark too! The expression, the eyes, eyebrows, everything. She knows she’s lost and it’s too much for her. Her son literally lost an eye and is blinded for life and no one will do anything about it!? Rage, despair, grief, anger, guilt all bottle up and explode. I also think the similarities of show!alicent and Mary are huge. The Lady of sorrow represents the grief for her child Jesus Christ and Alicent does the same in ep 7, aemond isn’t gone but she still grieves for him. I also think which made it ten times worse, is that it was Aemond who was harmed, her favorite (you cannot convince me otherwise) Aegon was for the throne, Helaena for Aegon, but Aemond was for her.

Alicent’s was very much like “can’t you see!? Why I did this? I had to!” She was forced to. ‘I? What have I done but what was expected of me?! Where’s duty? Where’s sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again! And now you take my son’s eye and to even that you feel entitled!’ She’s right. Compared to her, Rhaenyra had to sacrifice much less, which doesn’t make her any less of a victim! Stop hating on my women and start on the men. They are right there, openly doing the most vile shit! Otto, Viserys, Daemon, Aegon. Otto who manipulated and used his own daughter, Viserys who groomed and manipulated her. Daemon who groomed Nyra, Viserys who neglected his daughter.

I choose a Joan of arc painting because Rhaenyra ‘I will never be a son’ aka ‘girls when they aren’t their father’s number one boy’. Then we have the next which shows us a man with his back turned. Nyra felt betrayed by Alicent so she turned her back. The dog symbolizes Rhaenyra’s sadness turned anger. The dog is her guard, her protector, it will lash out as not to get hurt again. She built a wall around her. And lastly I chose Lucifer because of their shared hunger for revenge, thirst for vengeance (after Luke’s death). Mary for Ali because she can only pray, but she know the path only ends in death. While alicent has only sadness left, rhaenyra is full of wrath.

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bigsoftmarshmallow · 3 months ago

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How would the Ganondorfs (Wind Waker, Ocarina of Time, Twilight Princess, Hyrule Warriors, and Tears of the Kingdom) & Demise react to going to the final battle against the Goddess and the Hero… only to be struck down by their own SO?

As they look up, breathing already getting harder to do, they question why, and the SO, who had once looked at them with such love and devotion, hisses "Did you actually think I loved you? You? The Demon King?… You are more pathetic than I thought. No. I never loved you. You were a means to an end. Now, dear husband, perish."

This scenario is a devastating betrayal, one that would strike deeply at the heart of each Ganondorf and Demise, shaking them to their core. Here's how they might react, given their personalities and the depth of the bond they believed they had with their SO.

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Reaction: Shock, Disbelief, and a Hollow Despair

Wind Waker Ganondorf, who harbored a deep longing for his people and a twisted hope for their future, would be utterly crushed by this betrayal. As he lies on the ground, his body broken and his strength fading, his wide eyes lock onto his SO's cold gaze.

"Why?" His voice, usually so commanding, is barely more than a whisper. He was always aware of the potential for betrayal, but from them? The one he trusted?

When his SO delivers their cruel words, it’s like a blade twisting in his chest. The realization that the love he thought he had was never real strips him of the last of his will to fight. He had fought so hard, for so long, but to realize it was all for nothing, that he was used, it breaks him in a way no hero ever could.

His last moments are filled with an aching emptiness as he closes his eyes, a single tear slipping down his cheek.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Reaction: Rage, Betrayal, and a Final Curse

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf, the man who clawed his way to power with sheer will and cunning, would be overwhelmed by an all-consuming rage at this betrayal. As he lies on the ground, his hand clutching his wound, he looks up at his SO, disbelief warring with fury in his eyes.

"You… dared…" His voice is hoarse, laced with venom, but there's a tremble to it—a crack in his steely composure.

When his SO spits their hateful words, any remaining warmth in his heart turns to ice. He had trusted them, cared for them in his own twisted way, and now, they throw it back in his face.

Even as his life drains away, his mind seethes with hatred and thoughts of vengeance. He curses them with his dying breath, swearing that if he cannot live, he will haunt them, torment them from beyond the grave. His last thoughts are of revenge, his rage fueling him until the very end.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Reaction: Cold, Silent Acceptance Mixed with Profound Sadness

Twilight Princess Ganondorf, a man driven by his pride and sense of destiny, would feel the weight of this betrayal like a heavy burden on his soul. As he lies bleeding out, his golden eyes fix on his SO, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something in them—sadness, perhaps?

"You… too?" His voice is quiet, the words barely audible.

When his SO hisses their cruel truth, the flicker dies, leaving only a cold, dark void. He thought he could trust them, that they were different, but in the end, they were just like the rest—weak, unworthy, and treacherous.

He closes his eyes, accepting his fate with a grim silence. There's no more fight left in him, only a deep, sorrowful resignation. His last breath is a whisper, lost to the wind, as he succumbs to the cold embrace of death.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Reaction: Unrestrained Fury, Denial, and a Roar of Defiance

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf, the embodiment of raw power and unyielding ambition, would be consumed by an overwhelming sense of fury and denial. As he lies on the ground, bloodied and broken, he glares up at his SO, his eyes burning with an intense fire.

"Traitor!" His voice, though weak, is still full of anger and disbelief.

When his SO mocks him, calling him pathetic, it only fuels his rage. How dare they? He had given them power, trusted them to stand by his side, and they repay him with this?

With his last ounce of strength, he roars in defiance, refusing to accept this end. His eyes blaze with hatred, and he swears that not even death will stop him. His final moments are filled with a desperate, futile struggle against the darkness closing in, refusing to go quietly.

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Reaction: Bitter Amusement, Deep Hurt, and Final Acceptance

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf, who was more methodical and deliberate in his approach, would experience a profound sense of betrayal tinged with bitter amusement. As he lies on the ground, his body failing, he looks up at his SO, a pained smile on his lips.

"Is that… how it is?" His voice is soft, almost amused, but there’s a deep hurt in his eyes.

When his SO delivers their final, cruel words, the amusement fades, leaving only a deep sadness. He had allowed himself to care, to believe that he could have something more than just power. And this is how it ends.

He lets out a weary sigh, the fight leaving him as he accepts the inevitable. There’s no point in struggling anymore. His last thoughts are of what could have been, as he slips away into the darkness, his heart heavy with regret.

Demise

Reaction: Rage, Shock, and a Lasting Curse

Demise, the embodiment of pure malice and hatred, would be struck with a rare moment of shock before his anger consumes him. As he lies on the ground, his dark power waning, he glares up at his SO, his fiery eyes wide with disbelief.

"You… dare… betray me?" His voice is a low growl, filled with a mixture of rage and disbelief.

When his SO spits out their venomous words, calling him pathetic, it’s as if a final, cruel irony has been played on him. He, the eternal force of destruction, brought down not by a hero, but by someone he thought he had under his control.

His last moments are filled with a deep, burning hatred, his final breath a curse on his SO, on the hero, on the goddess, and on the entire world. He swears that his malice will never fade, that he will return, stronger and more terrible than before. His final thought is a promise of vengeance, as his body dissolves into the darkness, leaving only a lingering hatred behind.

Summary: Each Ganondorf and Demise would react with a mix of shock, betrayal, and anger to such a cruel and unexpected twist. Their reactions range from rage and defiance to deep sorrow and resignation, each reflecting their unique personalities and the depth of the bond they believed they had with their SO. This betrayal would be a shattering blow, one that would leave a lasting scar on their souls, even in their final moments.

********************************************************************

BONUS: WE CANNOT LEAVE IT LIKE THIS I CRIED OK-

How would the Ganondorfs (Wind Waker, Ocarina of Time, Twilight Princess, Hyrule Warriors, and Tears of the Kingdom) & Demise react to taking up, and finding it out to be all a nightmare? Their SO is jostled awake from their sudden wake up, and they are concerned. They look as loving as ever, still deeply in love with the Demon King, their wedding band on their hand even in sleep.

Certainly! The idea of such a devastating betrayal being just a nightmare is a powerful contrast, and it would undoubtedly evoke a strong emotional reaction from each Ganondorf and Demise upon waking. Here’s how each would react to discovering it was all a bad dream, with their SO still very much in love and devoted to them:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Reaction: Relief and Tenderness

Wind Waker Ganondorf wakes with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, the echoes of the nightmare still clinging to his mind. For a moment, he struggles to discern reality from the terror he just experienced. But then he turns to see his SO beside him, peaceful and concerned as they rouse, their wedding band glinting in the dim light.

Relief washes over him, and he releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Gently, he pulls them into his arms, holding them close as if to reassure himself that they’re truly there.

“It was just a dream,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to their forehead. “You’re still here with me.”

He holds them for a long time, grateful that the nightmare wasn’t real and that he still has their love.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Reaction: Disoriented but Quietly Grateful

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf wakes suddenly, his breath heavy, his mind still filled with the images of betrayal. He blinks rapidly, trying to push the nightmare away, and looks to his side, where his SO is beginning to stir, concerned by his sudden movement.

Seeing them there, so close and loving, with their wedding band as proof of their bond, he feels a wave of relief. He doesn’t say much—words aren’t his strong suit—but the tension in his body slowly eases as he realizes the truth.

He reaches out, brushing a thumb over their cheek, his usual stoic expression softened by a rare tenderness. “It was nothing,” he says quietly, though his hand lingers on theirs. “Just a dream.”

He doesn’t want to admit how much it shook him, but he’s grateful to have them beside him, more than he could ever put into words.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Reaction: Deep Relief and Protective Instincts

Twilight Princess Ganondorf jolts awake, his powerful frame tense, his eyes wild as he tries to shake the lingering fear from his nightmare. His heart races as he quickly scans the room, only to find his SO beside him, rousing from their slumber with concern in their eyes.

The sight of them, so warm and loving, with their wedding band gleaming softly, fills him with an overwhelming sense of relief. He closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

Without a word, he pulls them close, cradling them in his arms with a protective grip. “It was a nightmare,” he murmurs, his voice rough but gentle. “You’re safe, with me.”

He doesn’t let go for a long while, needing to feel their warmth, to reassure himself that they are real and that their love is still strong.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Reaction: Anger at the Nightmare, Soothing Reassurance

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf wakes up with a start, his body tense and his mind racing from the intensity of the nightmare. His first instinct is to be angry, frustrated that his mind would conjure such a betrayal. But then he turns to his SO, who is now waking up beside him, their eyes filled with concern.

The sight of them, still wearing their wedding band, still looking at him with love, immediately calms the storm inside him. He lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly as if to dispel the remnants of the nightmare.

“It was nothing, just a bad dream,” he says, his voice steadying. He reaches out to stroke their hair, offering them a reassuring smile. “You’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

He’ll hold them close, taking comfort in their presence, the anger fading as he focuses on the love they share.

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Reaction: Subdued Relief and Gentle Affection

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf awakens abruptly, his heart pounding and his mind racing as he tries to shake the nightmare from his thoughts. His first instinct is to check on his SO, who is beginning to stir beside him, their eyes full of concern.

Seeing them there, looking at him with such love, with their wedding band catching the light, he feels a profound sense of relief. The fear and betrayal from the nightmare fade as he reaches out to take their hand.

“It was just a dream,” he murmurs, his voice low and calm. He squeezes their hand gently, drawing them closer. “You’re still mine.”

He presses a kiss to their temple, holding them close as the remnants of the nightmare melt away, leaving only the warmth of their love.

Demise

Reaction: Fury Turned to Protective Instincts

Demise awakens with a roar, his fiery temper flaring as he fights off the remnants of the nightmare. For a moment, he’s disoriented, his mind filled with the false betrayal. But then he looks to his side and sees his SO, waking up with concern in their eyes, their wedding band glinting in the dim light.

The sight of them, so pure and loving, calms the inferno inside him. His anger quickly fades, replaced by a fierce protective instinct. He reaches out, pulling them into his arms with a surprising gentleness.

“It was a nightmare,” he growls softly, his voice still rough but tempered by affection. “You are mine, and no one will take you from me.”

He holds them close, as if shielding them from the darkness of his mind, grateful that the nightmare was nothing more than a twisted vision.

Summary: Each Ganondorf and Demise would experience a mix of shock, relief, and deep gratitude upon realizing that the nightmare was not real. Their SO's presence and unwavering love would ground them, soothing the lingering fear and hurt. Whether through tenderness, quiet reassurance, or fierce protectiveness, they would find solace in their SO's love, cherishing the bond they share more than ever.

#mallowresponse #legend of zelda #ganondorf #ganon #ocarina of time #wind waker #twilight princess #hyrule warriors #ai use #use of chatgpt #demise #tears of the kingdom #skyward sword

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jadegretz · 2 months ago

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I really appreciate your likes and comments. Thank you so much for your support :)**

Miharu Hirano: Shadows of the Iron Fist by Jade Gretz

The frigid wind whipped across the desolate plains of the Mongolian steppe, carrying with it the mournful howl of unseen wolves. Miharu Hirano, clad in her tattered school uniform, stood amidst the skeletal remains of what was once a bustling nomad encampment. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, a sickening cocktail of burnt flesh and despair.

Grief, a cold serpent, coiled around her heart. Her team, the Tekken Force unit she considered family, lay dead, their bodies contorted in a grotesque tableau of pain. The only clue to their demise – a single, scorched calling card embossed with the insignia of a grotesque, fanged skull. The calling card of the Oni Union.

Rage, a white-hot ember, ignited within Miharu. These weren't mere soldiers she mourned; they were friends, confidants. Especially Aoi, her best friend, her sparring partner, the girl who always had a bad joke on her lips. Aoi, whose vibrant emerald eyes now stared sightlessly from a face twisted in silent agony.

Vengeance, a single-minded purpose, burned away the vestiges of fear and sorrow. The Tekken Force had trained her for this – to face the darkness that lurked in the fringes of society, to combat the monsters that humanity couldn't. Today, she wouldn't be a soldier; she would be a storm, a whirlwind of fury seeking retribution.

Tracking the Oni Union was a brutal task. They were phantoms, flitting across the dark underbelly of the world, leaving a trail of carnage in their wake. Days bled into nights, the unforgiving landscape mirroring the desolation within Miharu. Her once-bright eyes held a steely glint, fueled by a thirst for vengeance that bordered on obsession.

One night, under the pale glow of a sliver moon, a whisper of the Oni Union reached her. A flickering rumor of a gathering deep within the fabled Skull Mountains, a treacherous range notorious for its unforgiving terrain and legends of malevolent spirits.

Hope, a fragile ember, flickered within Miharu. This could be he …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)

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dc-and-arfrona · 1 year ago

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Redemption

Jason Todd x Gn!Reader

Based of this request and this prompt

Type: Angst

Word Count: 700+

Masterlist

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Once the golden boy of Gotham, Jason Todd had descended into the shadows, consumed by darkness and vengeance. As the infamous Arkham Knight, he had become an enigma, a twisted embodiment of pain and sorrow. It was in this state of inner turmoil that he would cross paths with a remarkable woman who unknowingly challenged the walls he had built around his heart.

You, a beacon of hope in Gotham City, dedicated your life to helping those in need. Unbeknownst to Jason, you were not a stranger but someone he had once called a childhood friend. Fate had brought you together again, rekindling a bond that had been buried deep within both your hearts.

One fateful night, while patrolling the city's gloomy streets, Jason's mind wandered into the realm of memories. A particular image surfaced—the two of you, innocent and carefree, exploring the hidden corners of Gotham as children. Laughter echoed through the dilapidated alleyways, and a mischievous smile adorned Jason's face. It was in that very moment he first fell in love with you, though he didn't understand it then.

The memory swirled within his mind like a phantom, reminding him of the genuine connection you shared. It was during those childhood adventures that Jason felt an unspoken understanding between you, a bond that transcended the ordinary. But as the weight of his tragic past pressed upon his shoulders, he had distanced himself, fearing that his darkness would taint your light.

Unbeknownst to Jason, you also treasured those memories from your shared childhood. The feelings of warmth and affection were etched deep within your heart, guiding your unwavering determination to save him from his own torment. Though he tried to push you away, you recognized the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the echo of forgotten emotions that mirrored your own.

Inevitably, the Arkham Knight's actions attracted Batman's attention. Bruce Wayne, the Dark Knight, recognized the familiar anguish behind the mask and discovered the true identity of his adversary. Jason's tortured soul had pushed him beyond the brink, seeking vengeance against those he deemed responsible for his tragic past.

Amidst the chaos, you became entangled in Jason's vendetta, the thread of your shared history weaving its way through the present. In a moment of vulnerability, a flashback seized Jason's mind—a vivid recollection of a stolen glance, a stolen heart. The world around him faded as he relived the instant he first realized his love for you, a love that had remained hidden in the recesses of his wounded soul.

As the battle against crime raged on, you witnessed the internal struggle within Jason. The guilt, pain, and longing he carried threatened to consume his very essence. Each night, as he ventured into the shadows, he found himself torn between the need for vengeance and the desire to protect the innocence that radiated from you.

"I can see that the cold has bitten past your skin and into your heart, soul even," Jason whispered, his voice heavy with sorrow. He gazed at you, his eyes haunted by the memories of the past and the weight of his failures. "I never wanted you to see me like this, to be tainted by the darkness within me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to him, aching to ease his pain. "Jason, the darkness may have consumed you for a while, but I see the flicker of light within you. You are still capable of love, of redemption."

In that moment, the walls around his heart began to crumble, and Jason allowed himself to be vulnerable. He leaned into your touch, seeking solace and finding a glimmer of hope in your unwavering presence.

Together, you faced the demons that haunted him, guiding him towards forgiveness and healing. With each step, the weight of his past became a little lighter, and the love between you grew stronger.

But there were moments when the anguish became too much to bear. In the dead of night, Jason would wake in a cold sweat, haunted by the faces of those he had lost and the pain he had caused. He would retreat to the solitude of his room, his mind a battlefield of regrets and self-doubt.

You would find him there, curled up in the darkness, his breath shallow and uneven. You would wrap your arms around him, whispering words of reassurance, reminding him that he was not alone. In those moments, he clung to you like a lifeline, seeking solace in your presence.

"I don't deserve your love," he would murmur, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've done terrible things, and the weight of my sins crushes me."

You would hold him tighter, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Jason, we all carry our scars and our mistakes, but that doesn't define who we are. I see the goodness in your heart, the capacity for redemption. You are not alone in this journey."

As time passed, Jason's walls began to crumble further. He allowed himself to trust, to let you in completely. It was a slow and painful process, the remnants of his past still clinging to his soul, but your unwavering support provided the strength he needed to push forward.

Together, you confronted the darkness that threatened to engulf him, fighting side by side against the demons that plagued his mind. And slowly, with each act of compassion, each whispered word of love, Jason found solace in your presence.

In the shadow of redemption, Jason Todd found a fragile peace. He learned to embrace his past, not as a weight to bear, but as a catalyst for growth. You became his anchor, the embodiment of love and understanding, guiding him towards the light.

The road to redemption was not without its obstacles. There were moments of doubt, of relapse into old habits and patterns. But you remained steadfast, reminding Jason of his worth, his capacity for change.

And as the days turned into months and the months into years, Jason began to rebuild his life, finding purpose and meaning in protecting Gotham City. He used his skills and experiences to fight for justice, to become a symbol of hope rather than vengeance.

Through it all, your love remained the guiding force, the foundation upon which his new life was built. Together, you carved a path towards a brighter future, leaving behind the shadows of the past.

In the end, it was the power of love that saved Jason Todd. The love that had been forged in childhood, weathered by darkness, and rekindled in the face of adversity. And together, you defied the odds, emerging stronger, united in your shared journey of redemption.

The memories of your childhood adventures now intertwined with the hope for a brighter tomorrow, as you both rekindled a love that had never truly died.

#dc universe #robin x reader #dc imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood imagine

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yelling-space · 9 months ago

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Children of light/darkness

it wouldn't let me change the txt 2 black so enkis pink cuz i hate him

Couldnt stop thinking about that one stupid throw away line in fagcats monologuing so i decided to apply it to the rest of the gang becuse i can 4 context i'm going to assume the ratio of children of light:darkness is similar to that a 1:45 type thing. (includes a few hcs.)

— "Living humans are divided into two groups, yes? There are children of light. Those destined to walk under the bright sun. Those people do well in all hardships of life. They have dear humans who they want to return to. Even in the darkest hour, they can feel the warmth of their loved ones in their heart and gain extra courage from that.” - Pocketcat

Obviously The Girl is a child of light since it’s stated in-game by the New Gods. A pure child, a blank slate birthed from the darkest pits of human creation. The literal embodiment of fear and hunger, a small light shrouded in darkness without even a glimmer of hope. A child who's been robbed of love;the first kind gesture she ever received was being freed from a cage by a man who smiled at her like she wasn't a horrific monster. Yet despite all her hesitation she slowly finds herself gaining comfort in his presence, enough to scrounge a little closer and find herself enjoying the sound his voice,a man that never stop talking even tho she doesn't speak back, doesn't quite understand why he shares his food with her yet gobbles it down before he can try taking it back the second she realises its safe to eat. And then he gifts her the doll. And she's not really sure what to do or what all these overwhelming feelings inside are but the raggedy thing never leaves her side as she trails him like a moth to flame.

Cahara's a child of light, he burns slow and soft. A little flicker of light in the darkness that'll last in the wind because it has the fuel to keep going and can light up other people. He’s a people person, a social butterfly who people are drawn to and ends up making connections wherever he goes. Despite everything he's been through and all the horrors and harsh realities of life he's faced, he's still able to find joy and a love for life. Quite literally one the only thing holding the group together and reason half these people even start to tolerate each other.

“Hooo~ you do? This is the most surprising! I feel like so many people lose the sight of happiness once they grow out of their naive little views of the world they had as younglings. But perhaps it is possible to feel like that, even as someone as old as you.” - Pocketcat

Ragnvaldr’s a child light. He burns bright and fast like a strip of magnesium, his light comes in bursts. Rage comes as quick as it goes and isn't a reliable source of fuel but shines so bright when it burns it almost hurts to witness.

His light’s too hot to get close to when he's burning, and therefore it doesn't get 'shared' before it's gone unlike Cahara’s who serves to light others over coaxing his own flame. Yet despite losing his family he still carries the love his people held for him in his heart, letting it fuel his fire even though he knows he'll never be able to return to them. Yet despite losing his family, Ragnvaldr still carries their memories alive in his heart and never loses sight of the happiness that was robbed from him so instead he keeps their spirits close while he seeks vengeance.

It's for that same reason The Girl and Ragnvaldr are both attracted to and seek out light despite being lights of their own. They both require others to fuel their flame and keep them afloat vs someone whose light is soft and nurturing more like Cahara’s, whose light draws others towards him. Is bright enough to warm your hands in the midst of a cold winter’s storm yet too weak to spark the light of rebellion and bring about change in the world.

“In the opposite end of the spectrum, there are children of darkness. Those humans are often driven to depression and sorrow because of life's peculiar ways.But they have learned how to live with those feelings. In fact, they have grown to love the ever-pressing darkness within. Those humans are able to draw energy from darkness, they are not dependent on other people. They only need darkness, their old friend.So, humans of light and darkness... Which one are you?” - Pocketcat

It's how D'arce can be born with a silver spoon in her mouth and want for nothing as she gets older, pursuing what she thinks is her dream, leaving behind her luxurious life and continuing to strive higher and higher for her 'goals' – only to constantly be miserable despite it all. No matter what she gains or what she gives up, just never being satisfied, feeling like she's stagnating and making nothing herself despite all the accolades and medals and milestones she's achieved.

It's the same reason Enki can be born in darkness, wanting nothing more then the endless pursuit of knowledge – forced to eat his younger siblings, forced to claw his way out of a well, forced to eat bugs in order to survive, forced to backstab his twin sister, only ever finding twisted satisfaction in a rare moment of joy when he burns his family and the place he once called home into ash – feels so comfortable drowned in misery.

They’re both on completely different ends the moral and social spectrum, yet they both closed off their hearts to the world and poured themselves into their own goals. A way to close off their feelings and shut away from the rest of the world. They both just sorta look at Cahara and Ragnvaldr smiling, laughing and simply ,,,,enjoying existing in each other's company. And they just kinda stare in disbelief at this light in front of them, almost unable to actually believe what they're actually seeing, let alone comprehend how they're even able to exist so freely in a place like this. It doesn't make sense. They're all trapped in this horrific hellscape of a dungeon with strangers they've never met, barely surviving the passing hours with their mess of skill sets and feeble attempts to hold onto whatever draining sense of morality and justice they had before coming down here. And yet these two are smiling and cracking jokes. Talking like they'd been friends for years even though they barely know each other. they just seem so ,,, so,,, bright. no matter how much Enki and D’arce become familiar with the sight, they feel like they're intruding on something; they shouldn't be allowed to see this.

It's something they've already come to terms within their own lives, after all. It's a feeling people like them don't need. They don't deserve it. Yet. something about the sight is just so warm and comforting they can’t quite bring themselves to tear their eyes from it.

“Since you were a child of darkness, I imagine you agree when I say that we don't get the luxury of happiness.We only know brief joy every now and then, but even that is getting more rare every day.” - Pocketcat

Considering how both Enki and Ragnvaldr kinda blur the line a bit when it comes to their actions and motives; how Ragnvaldr can be argued to go 'darker' while enki goes 'lighter' despite their soul compositions (in my amazing awful timeline of events at least.)

It’s how D'arce, a knight of one the most prestigious and well respected groups in the kingdom, borne of nobility, who grew up comfortably, never having to scrape by is constantly shaped in misery and loneliness, can never truly happy no matter how high she climbs in the world vs Cahara having known nothing but constant suffering and struggles, is still able to be happy and smile with people he cares for and find people that love him despite their line of work or less than fortunate situation. He's able to befriend people in every corner of the world he travels to; there's people who care for him and want to be around him. Even though he's experienced the hardship of life first hand he's still able to look at the world with just so much love for life and she just doesn't get how. D’arce just mystified by watching the fact that two men she knows, born into poverty or into nothing at all, scraping by, living minimal, nomadic, no stable environment or home - for Cahara, nobody to call his own until adulthood - just completely shocked by the fact that they can both smile, joke and seem to be just. happy. content with what they've managed to make for themselves.

And it's not as if D'arce hasnt made anything of herself; she’s clearly put in a lot of effort to get to where she is even if she came from an advantageous background, she had family, she had friends (singular, Le'garde, so maybe ok not even 1 friend but shhh),,, has no idea what she did wrong or what she's doing wrong to continue being so miserable in life.

They all have blood on their hands but she’s yet to realise the cause of it is what makes them different from each other.

Doesn't get how Cahara can sit there and joke about the other ways he made cash to get by when he was younger with a smile on his face. Or how Ragnvalder can sit there and laugh at Cahara horrible jokes after losing everything he’s ever held dear. The way they can chatter on about nothing for hours at a time or talk about their partners with just so much love in their voices knowing they'll probably never see them again. (Maybe even wondering if someone will ever talk about her like that with just so much shear adoration in their voice and this ‘swept off their feet’ look in their eyes, but also i can see that not even crossing her mind at the same time )

Enki and D’arce just sat there a lil bewildered watching the first people they've ever seen be genuinely happy in their lives even though they have almost nothing to their name, have lost everything and yet they can still smile and laugh with each other in a place like this???

They are just so confused by rag&cahara’s chemistry because they themselves don't know how to utilise humour and light-heartedness as ways to cope with the tragedy in their lives, having chosen to instead turn their focuses outward. For example, enlightenment and study & knighthood and an entire other persona, as a way to distract themselves from the struggles in their lives and unintentionally bring the focus away from their internal darkness.

It's also interesting to observe the parallels of duos such as Enki&Cahara and D'arce&Rag to, since Cahara serves to kind of draw people out of their shells and show them light, while Ragnvaldr's light could be seen as something turned into heat and ignite the spark of retribution and spur on the need to go on. While it doesn't make D'arce and Ragnvaldr very close, I can see how it would maybe inspire something in her and propel her forward in times of discouragement. (Whether that's out of admiration for rags ability to be able to still go on after everything thats happend or if it’s from the desire to find Le’gard before Rag fucking gets him☠️is up to you.)

Cahara’s used to sneaking around even though he's very bright, and so resorts to coaxing and persuasion, whereas Ragnvaldr is very obviously used to being a leader figure and just kind of 'shines' on people. I'm not sure how well those methods obviously work on people like Enki and D'arce (lowkey think they might be more beneficial if they swapped, but that's just makes the fact i tend to default to enki&cahara + d’arce&rag funnier), but the fact that they're watching it happen at all is so rare for them let alone the horrifying moment that occurs for the two of them when they realise they actually enjoying having these idiots around (each other included).

(This awful epiphany mainly applies to Enki. He’d rather be sacrificed again then admit he cares for any of these idiots, nevermind Cahara specifically. I don't think it really hits D’arce until they’re out of the dungeon if they make it and she doesn't have their company anymore.)

After all, the world was cruel to them so they became cruel back. That probably affects the way they’d view/interact with Cahara/Rag. Enki especially would have a hard time trying to grasp how they are both able to be so,,,happy,, after going through so much, considering the fact he also went through hell and thus chose to close his heart to the world. Yet here he is, watching these two men who have come from nothing and lost everything who have been nothing but repeatedly wronged by life, talk about how beautiful it is and he just. Doesn't. Get. It. He went through abandonment, being pit against his own sibling to see who deserved to still breath in their parents eyes. He had to resort to more than questionable things in order to survive, he stabbed his own sister in the back and burnt his parents alive after crawling out the pit they tried to bury him in. Hell, he had to eat his own siblings/bugs for crying out loud. and the way he went about it makes sense to him. He's protecting himself. He's putting his interests into unemotional things that can't lash out and hurt him again - things that he can safely invest time and effort into, knowing it will fulfil him in some way, without the pressure of it having to impress someone or be worthy enough to try to seek praise from those around him. It's totally protective, wanting to keep himself from that same hurt, wanting to become powerful and knowledgeable enough to keep himself from being hurt ever again. Right?

It's almost a childish but at the same time totally jaded, adult-ified view of what he probably wanted as a child. Bitter and spiteful since all the while, and hell even his necro tendencies probably have something to do with wanting to be in control of and listened to by something for once in his life.

He most likely also shares a lot of The Girl's wonder in the fact that, despite all the awful shit that's happened and the terrible place they're in now, Cahara and Ragnvaldr are taking a good damn while to break under the darkness that's trying to eat them alive. And even if it's terrible how it manifests, could even argue that Ragnvaldr hallucinating his wife is him retreating back to a better time full of light to cope, similar to Cahara constantly going "oh, this is how i used to gain money, its nothing new lol” when Enki tries to beat around the bush and ask if Cahara’s even okay with,,,, this and just ends up being an answer he's not really sure how he feels about.

Enki: how do you do that Cahara: do what ? Enki: just,,, exist, and seem happy about it Cahara: well, existing is quite a beautiful thing, wouldn't you agree ? Enki: Cahara internally: [he doesn't know that finding worth in life is pointless] vs

D'arce: how do you do that Ragnvaldr: do what? D'arce: keep going onward despite the weight of everything youve lost Ragnvaldr: i've been freed of the binds that kept me from avenging them, that's how D'arce: Ragnvaldr internally: [she doesn't know that weight will stay forever]

ldk why but I really like the idea of them all having similar views but completely opposite interpretations of something. They're all looking at the exact same sunset but seeing something entirely different, both affected by their light and darkness alignments but also just their individual life experiences that shaped their world views.

I can't find it rn but also there's some dialogue from Nosramus about seeing him in the dark; if you’re playing as Cahara/Ragnvaldr, it's a simple “oh your the person from ealier”. but if you’re playing as D’arce/Enki; the response is “the one creeping around in the shadow ealier” witch makes me giggle cuz ofc those 2 be finding comfort in the shadows and scrurrying around like rats in it

“Hooo~! Very good, very good. I love honest words, even when they hurt me. I say that now... But I'm probably going to feel really awful later on. But don't you worry about that. Really. I have grown to love this feeling of being rejected.”

-Pocketcat

Bonus Daan mention :

Daan’s a child darkness both in how it paroles the girl as children destined for greatness by the gods + both more attracted to “Light”(eg elise & cahara both children light & attract others 2 them) like moths 2 a flame then actually attract people to him

Being a child of darknesses also link him 2 fagcat + part the reason pocketcats so interested in the fact “someone like him” was chosen by the gods(much 2 daans dismay)

hes is literally drowning in misery. Thinks of his life as a curse he's forced 2 live threw with the thought things could be different/better ever crossing his mind

Much like d’arce &enki never rly know the feeling of being loved & wanted baring teh short time he was with his wife (rip elies)

He has never known a peaceful happy day, mans just straight up NOT ALLOWED nice things & those he has get ripped away from him in the cruellest ways possible & having said lost thing repeatedly rubbed in his face (eg dead wife ,her coming back as stitches + fagcat never letting him know peace )

#fear and hunger #this is kinda old now but i refuse 2 edit it cuz it means i actually have 2 re-read it 2 see what i wrote #no i didn't proff read this as u can tell ur welcome #just realised there's no yellow either si just pretend girl and legard are yellow #there all just stuipd little duos in duos who are constaly paralleling each other it so funny i hate them all #cahara #ragnvaldr #funger #fear and hunger termina #daan #nosramus #d'arce #enki #fagcat #sorry i mean pocketcat #pocketcat #rambles

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callahanisms · 2 years ago

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Your posts are the greatest thing ever I was wondering if you could alicent and rhaenyra reacting to reader killing one of their children in combat during the dance thanks. 🥰

my god anon. that is PURE ANGST! you are despicable for giving me this suggestion /pos

anyways thank you so much for the compliment! it means a lot and i'm so happy you enjoy the content i create. there's not much that can be asked from as a creative. i love it when you guys enjoy the stuff i put out.

i do love writing angst. so umm...welp. i'll just leave this post here for you guys. i hope your heart hurt as much as mine did while writing this.

rhaenyra targaryen

it was just whispers, rumors. but the reality of war was that there would be loss. she just didn’t expect for her to have to grieve more than she already has.

daemon had a solemn look on his face when he approached her that evening. and he told her the news.

he never saw her react so quickly and violently.

the black queen threw her cups of wine into the fire with unrestrained force. her breathing was rapid and she stood from her seat, walking out.

“rhaenyra. rhaenyra!” daemon exclaimed.

you had killed her oldest, jacaerys. stabbed through the heart and then having taken an eye out. for aemond. is what you apparently had said, according to the soldiers that fled.

rhaenyra saw white. pure white.

it wasn’t just intense sorrow, a sorrow that tore through her body like she was being burned from the inside out. it was anger. anger at you. anger at the world. anger at alicent and aegon.

she had gone to the training yard and picked up a sword and began hacking away at the practice dummies. she just kept going, screaming while hot tears ran down her cheeks.

she didn’t even realize that daemon had come to check up on her and he only watched as she tore apart the dummies and anything that could have been broken by a sword.

when her anger finally faded away and she could see the destruction she caused, she tossed the sword on the ground, panting.

she looks at daemon who communicates with her how he feels through the look in his eyes.

“i’m going to kill them! i’m going to kill alicent! i’m going to kill aegon! i’m going to kill that stupid boy aemond!” she exclaims.

“we will kill them all. and we will put their heads on the traitor’s walk when we retake the iron throne.”

“i will kill (y/n). i will kill them personally.”

“is that what you really want, rhaenyra?”

“i will kill (y/n) if it is the last thing i do. i will avenge my children!”

alicent hightower

when aemond attempted to take back harrenhaal, you were there. and you led the counterattack. adrenaline had run through your veins and with unrecognizable strength, you sunk your blade through his eye socket.

part of it was your rage. you cared for lucerys like he was your own. he reminded you of your younger brother, who had died from dornish raiders. and when the news reached you that luke had been killed by aemond’s hands, you swore vengeance.

finally, luke could be at peace.

alicent was horrified when she opened the box. rumors have it that she screamed, collapsed, and tore at her dress from the sorrow that ran through her veins.

with aemond dead and green morale low, the blacks took back king’s landing.

she was forced into the great hall for sentencing. but when she saw you, she saw red.

“you!”

“me.” you say.

“you killed aemond. how could you have killed him!” alicent exclaims. she could not even look at rhaenyra. her sole attention was on you. “you killed my son!”

“your son killed prince lucerys without consequence. is that a fair trade for your son’s eye? you probably thought so. a life for an eye.” you shrug, unbothered.

alicent didn’t even know she had such strength within her. but she tore herself from the arms of the soldiers holding her up and pulled one of their swords from its sheath.

you send them a look, deciding to let the grieving woman charge towards you with a blade. she was intent on cutting your head off.

her swings were sloppy. to be expected from a woman who had others do the dirty work for her. you deflect them easily and dodge.

eventually, you knock the sword out of her hands and drop your blade. she attempts to hit you, but you stop her hand, gripping onto it.

“i trusted you! i trusted you (y/n)!” she exclaims. “you killed aemond. my aemond!” her voice became incomprehensible as she sobbed. her cries were painful and they rang throughout the great hall.

you could only hold her there and tell her one thing.

“a son for a son.”

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd headcanons #hotd x reader #alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #x reader #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

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mybeautifulchristianjourney · 4 months ago

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His Reign, Our Joy: The Absolute Supremacy of the Lord

How does the reigning power of the Lord affect our everyday lives? How can comprehending His reign influence our reactions to trials and tribulations? Can we find comfort in the knowledge that God controls everything?

The LORD reigns, let the earth rejoice; let the distant shores be glad. — Psalm 97:1

It is reassuring to know that there is no cause for unease when we recognize this blessed truth: the Lord reigns. His power on earth controls not only the rage of the wicked but also the fury of the sea. His love is as refreshing as the showers that quench the dry earth, a mercy that revives the poor in spirit.

We must always remember: God is God. He perceives and hears all our sorrows and difficulties. Amid our sufferings, let us not forget that the Lord forever reigns. His authority and influence are unquestionable, even in the most challenging circumstances.

The sovereignty of the Lord is even acknowledged in the realm of evil spirits. When they are allowed to roam, it is only with limitations; they are always under His control. The instruments of death are under the Lord's lock, and the gates of the grave are guarded by divine power. The Lord's tremendous vengeance causes demons to tremble in fear.

In the heavenly realms, no one doubts the sovereignty of the King Eternal. All fall on their faces to pay Him homage. Angels serve as His courtiers, the redeemed are His favored ones, and all delight to serve Him day and night.

May we too strive to reach the city of the great King! May we remember in our long nights of sadness that the Lord will bring us peace and joy. Regardless of our trials, let us remember that God forever reigns!

May we always remember Your reign, In times of joy and in days of sorrow, May we trust in Your power and might, And in Your love find perfect peace.

Questions for Reflection

How does acknowledging the reigning power of the Lord affect your daily decision-making?

In what ways can you see the Lord's reigning power in modern world events?

How can you apply the concept of God's reign in handling interpersonal conflicts?

How do you reconcile the existence of evil with the Lord's reign as depicted in Psalm 97:1?

How can recognizing the Lord's reign influence your reaction to personal or societal injustices?

How does the idea that "the Lord reigns" help you cope with personal loss, such as the death of a loved one?

How does the Lord's reign assure you in times of global turmoil such as pandemics or wars?

What does the phrase "let the distant shores be glad" teach us about the universal scope of God's reign?

How does the acknowledgment of God's reign in heaven influence your understanding of the afterlife?

What actions can you take in your daily life that reflect your belief in the Lord's reign?

How does the truth of God's reigning power shape your personal hopes and dreams?

In what ways can the affirmation that "God forever reigns" guide your response to personal fears and uncertainties?

Supporting Scriptures

Psalm 47:8: God reigns over the nations; God is seated on His holy throne.

Psalm 96:10: Declare among the nations: “The LORD reigns!” The world is firmly established; it cannot be moved; He will judge the peoples with equity.

Psalm 98:4: Make a joyful noise to the LORD, all the earth; break forth—let your cry ring out, and sing praises!

Isaiah 52:7: How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, “Your God reigns!”

Jeremiah 31:7: For this is what the LORD says: “Sing with joy for Jacob; shout for the foremost of the nations! Make your praises heard, and say, ‘O LORD, save Your people, the remnant of Israel!’

Revelation 19:6: And I heard a sound like the roar of a great multitude, like the rushing of many waters, and like a mighty rumbling of thunder, crying out: “Hallelujah! For the Lord our God the Almighty reigns.

Revelation 20:4: Then I saw the thrones, and those seated on them had been given authority to judge. And I saw the souls of those who had been beheaded for their testimony of Jesus and for the word of God, and those who had not worshiped the beast or its image, and had not received its mark on their foreheads or hands. And they came to life and reigned with Christ for a thousand years.

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codergalsblog · 8 days ago

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Lm3 headcanons/I'm back!

Hey, I'm back after another while, lol.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone 🦃 or Christmas to those who celebrate early🎄

Anyway, I wanted to make a headcanon list of the boss ghost from Luigi's Mansion 3 since I'm currently hyperfixated on it again, lol. It's one of my favorite games, I especially love the ghosts too. I like to think that some of the boss ghosts can't really leave the hotel or choose to stay in the hotel due to rage, sorrow, obligation or just to chill(which is half-freed)

Freed soul = 🟡

Bound soul(by rage, sorrow, etc) = 🔵

Half freed = 🟢

These are my headcanons for them:

Steward: used to work at the hotel before it was taken over. Felt obligated to stay there 🔵

Chambrea: also worked there and also felt obligated 🔵

Kruller: Has nowhere else to really go after he died 🟡

Chef soufflé: Worked there and felt obligation too 🔵

Amadeus Wolfgeist: Out of rage for nobody taking him seriously as a pianist when he was alive. Decided to stay and terrorize any human who listens to him perform 🟢

King MacFrights: Out of vengeance for his fallen kingdom and the royal family 🔵

Dr. Potter: Stayed to take care of his plants. Just chilling 🟡

Morty: To make movies and express his ✨️art✨️ 🟡

Ug: Bound by the t-rex that ate him. Stays in the museum mostly 🔵

Clem: The janitor of the hotel. Felt obligated too, although can leave 🟢

Serpci: Just to chill. Doesn't hold any anger or grudge, died with honor but decided to stay and hang out 🟡

Nikki, Lindsey, and Ginney: Wanted to stay and show their magic to everyone in the hotel, trying to reach the fame they never could before they died 🟢

Captain Fishook: Isn't bound at all but chooses to stay and hang out with some of the minor ghosts his "crew". One of the more friendly ghosts as he died knowing he did what a captain should, but misses his past crew dearly. Can leave the hotel whenever he likes and floats around, feeling more free than ever before 🟡

Johnny Deepend: Only half bound by his sorrow. He died while playing water polo with his best friend as he accidentally got caught on some rocks. His friend was too late to save him and they both feel guilt. He just hopes his friend is ok and living his life 🟢

Phantasmagloria: Isn't bound but stays to chill and dance the afterlife away 🟡

Hellen gravely: Bound as she used to own the hotel + king boo, lol 🔵

Bonus:

Polterkitty + Polterpup: Were born and raised together accidentally but got separated. Polterpup was run over accidentally and Polterkitty died from falling ill 🟡(for both)

#lm3 #luigi's mansion 3 #steward #chambrea #kruller #Amadeus Wolfgeist #King MacFrights #Dr. Potter #Morty #Ug #Clem #Serpci #Nikki Lindsey Ginny #Captain Fishook #Johnny Deepend #Phantasmagloria #Hellen gravely #Polterkitty

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horseshoegirl · 6 days ago

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Dragon Age: Mortalitasi!RuebenFitch

Mortalitasi - Death (Or Necromancer) Mage

He's the last one! 😭 (everyone loved Jake's, so I maybe, someday, I'll do a story around him... but for now, I'm going to tackle finishing SMA)

Ruben's is full of heartbreak </3

The ritual chamber in the heart of the Nevarran Necropolis was laced with the scent of decay and lingering magic, the air thick with the weight of countless deaths. The ancient vaults had seen countless rituals, but none as blasphemous—or as desperate—as the one Rueben had undertaken. The air around him shimmered with dark energy as he completed the final sigil, his hands trembling with fear and determination.

Your voice, once a gentle source of comfort, now echoed faintly from the Veil. “Rueben… please… let me go.”

He froze, his heart hammering in his chest. You sounded so much like you had in life—or rather, as the spirit of compassion you had been—the spirit that had lingered by his side when no one else would, drawn to the fractures in his soul and soothing the wounds that festered there.

But it hadn’t been enough. Not for him.

“I can’t,” he whispered, his voice cracking. His hands clenched into fists as he stared at the swirling magic within the circle. “You don’t understand. You were everything good in me. Without you, I’m—”

“Broken,” you finished softly, the words laced with sorrow. “You think binding me here will fix you? Rueben, this is not love. This is—”

“Don’t say it,” he snapped, the sharpness in his tone betraying his desperation. He couldn’t let you finish, couldn’t hear the truth in your voice. “You don’t belong in the Fade. You belong here. With me. Always with me.”

The ritual's energy built as he spoke, the dark energy reacting violently in the circle's center. And your form began to take shape, fragile and flickering like a flame caught in the wind. For a moment, hope surged in his chest. You were coming back.

You'd be alive.

But then, the air around you twisted. Your soft glow darkened, and tendrils of shadow wound around you. The light in your eyes, once so full of compassion, turned into a burning amber glare, full of hatred and hunger. Your transformation was violent. Your body contorted as it grew larger and more grotesque, horns spiralling from your skull and hands becoming jagged claws.

“No!” Rueben cried, reaching toward you as the ritual sigils burned out, leaving the chamber in oppressive darkness. The creature before him was enormous, its form a monstrous amalgamation of rage and sorrow. Your voice, no longer soft and kind, reverberated through the chamber with a guttural snarl.

“Rueben,” you said, your tone venomous and laced with despair. “You have denied me my purpose. You have torn me from what I was meant to be. And now, I am this… because of you.”

The full weight of what he had done crashed over him. You were a Pride Demon now—a towering figure of power and fury, your compassion twisted into a perverse desire for dominion and vengeance.

“I didn’t mean—” he stammered, his voice breaking.

“You meant to bind me,” you hissed, your massive form stalking toward him, your claws scraping against the stone. “You meant to force me to be what you wanted, not what I was meant to be. You destroyed me.”

“I love you!” he shouted, tears streaming down his face. “I… I just couldn’t lose you.”

“Your love was selfish,” you snarled, the ground trembling beneath your steps. “And now, I am your consequence.”

Rueben fell to his knees, the weight of your words and his actions crushing him. As your monstrous form loomed over him, you paused, your fiery gaze boring into his soul.

“You will live,” you declared, your voice softer now, almost pitying. “Not because I forgive you, but because you will carry this guilt for the rest of your days. You will remember what your love has wrought.”

With a deafening roar, your form dissolved into a storm of shadow and flame, vanishing into the Veil. The necropolis fell silent; the only sound was Rueben’s ragged breathing and the faint echo of your final words:

“Pray the dead do not call me back. For if they do… I will not be what you remember.”

#horseshoegirlwrites #dragon age au #dragon age blurb #dragon age moodboard #rueben “payback” fitch #dragon age crossover #top gun au #Mortalitasi!RuebenFitch

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bloodandlegacy · 13 days ago

Text

XII: Legacies of Ash and Ice

The chill of Azkaban clung to me like frostbite—silent, insidious, and impossible to shake. Even after leaving its walls, its essence lingered, an echo of despair that whispered in the back of my mind. My father’s hollowed eyes, the faint flicker of recognition beneath the Imperius mask—it haunted me. But it did not break me. If anything, it strengthened my resolve. I would not let him remain a prisoner to Tom Riddle's treachery, nor would I let our family’s legacy rot in the shadows.

The answer was clear. Power. The kind that could rewrite the fabric of destiny, bend it to my will. And if the darkness could give me that, then I would wield it without fear. If the answers lay in darkness, I would find them. And if the cost was my soul, so be it.

Back in the library's Restricted Section, I found solace among forbidden texts. The pages felt alive under my fingers, their whispers promising secrets too precious for ordinary witches and wizards. Myrtle floated silently beside me for a while, her usual mournful gaze unusually sharp. I could feel her disapproval before she spoke.

“You think you’re different,” she began, her voice cutting through the stillness. “You think the darkness will listen to you, obey you. But it doesn’t. It consumes.”

I slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the empty library. “And what would you have me do, Myrtle? Sit here and hope the world rights itself? That Tom Riddle will suddenly decide he’s done enough damage and undo it all? That’s not how this works.”

Myrtle’s ghostly form flickered, her pout deepening. “I’ve seen what it does. I’ve seen him. "You remind me of him more than you’d care to admit."

Her words lingered, heavy and unwelcome. For a moment, doubt crept in—did I? Was this path of vengeance and power just a shadow of his? But I shook the thought away. I wasn’t like Tom Riddle. I was nothing like him. I couldn’t be.

“I am nothing like Tom Riddle,” I hissed. “I want justice for my father, not domination.”

She tilted her head, her translucent figure shimmering in the low light. “You’re walking the same cursed path. The Gaunts always believed they were untouchable—too pure, too powerful. Look where it brought them. Look where it will bring you.”

The words felt like a slap, but I didn’t flinch. “What would you know about the weight of a name, about a legacy steeped in centuries of magic? Nothing. You're just a—” The word burned on my tongue, foreign and sharp, but I let it escape anyway. I hated how it felt—like a betrayal of something I wasn’t even sure I believed in. But the anger didn’t care. ��Mudblood.”

Myrtle’s eyes widened, her ghostly face contorting with hurt, and then something darker—a bitter smile twisted her lips. “Mudblood?” she echoed, her voice quiet but cutting. “You think I don’t know what I am? A stupid little Muggle-born who wandered into a world that never wanted her?”

Her translucent figure shimmered as her anger flared. “But let me tell you something, Andromeda Gaunt. Your precious bloodline doesn’t make you better than me. It doesn’t make you safe. The very thing you cling to will destroy you. Just like it destroyed me.”

The word echoed in my mind. Mudblood. But the anger refused to let me back down. My hands trembled, my chest rising and falling as rage overtook reason.

“You wouldn’t understand,” I spat, my voice as venomous as the creature she once faced. “Your blood was never worth protecting. No one mourned it when it spilled, did they?”

Myrtle recoiled as though I’d struck her, her ghostly glow flickering. For a moment, her face twisted in a mix of fury and sorrow, but she said nothing. Instead, her form began to dissolve, retreating into the shadows like mist evaporating under sunlight.

Before she vanished completely, her voice echoed faintly, more haunting than before. “And no one will mourn yours, Andromeda.”

“Am I interrupting something?”

The voice was light, teasing, and entirely unexpected. I turned to see a girl leaning casually against a nearby shelf, her arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her face.

Her red hair gleamed in the candlelight, and her freckled face was so striking it almost felt deliberate, like the universe had painted her just to stand out in a room like this. Her eyes were the most unsettling—a brilliant blue, sharp and sparkling, like they saw through every lie you told yourself.

“And who are you?” I asked, trying to mask my irritation.

“Juniper Rookwood,” she said, stepping closer with an air of casual confidence. “Pure-blood, top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts since first year.” She paused, her grin widening. “And you’re Andromeda Gaunt. Everyone knows who you are.”

Myrtle let out a loud, theatrical sigh and disappeared into a wall.

Juniper’s eyes flicked to where the ghost had been, then back to me. “Don’t mind her. I’ve seen you around, you know. Always in the Restricted Section, always looking like you’re carrying the weight of the world. Care to share what you’re searching for?”

I hesitated, unsure of her intentions. She was too confident, too composed. But there was something disarming about her—something genuine.

“I’m looking for power, I think,” I admitted, the words heavy on my tongue.

Juniper’s smile was sharp, almost predatory. "You’re not like the others," Juniper said, her voice low and almost conspiratorial. "They don’t see it, but I do. The strength it takes to stand alone, to claim what’s yours. We’re the same, you and I—cut from a finer cloth. That’s why I know you’ll understand this."

I should have questioned her motives more, but the hunger in her eyes mirrored my own. That was enough.

Juniper’s smile was sharp as she leaned in, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. “I know a place. Somewhere we won’t be interrupted. Somewhere you can practice without anyone… meddling.”

We arrived at Brocburrow under the cover of night, the village desolate and forgotten. Fog clung to the ground like a shroud, muffling even the faintest sounds. The cold bit at my skin, but my focus was on the girl in front of me.

She turned to face me, her eyes glinting with mischief and something darker. “Have you ever really used the Unforgivables?”

I hesitated. “I’ve… practiced them,” I said cautiously. “But never in a real duel.”

Juniper’s laugh was sharp and unapologetic. “Figures. Most people never do.” She paced in a slow circle, her wand twirling idly between her fingers. “My family doesn’t believe in waiting for permission. On my tenth birthday, my father handed me a wand and told me to cast the Killing Curse on a Muggle.”

I blinked, unsure if I’d heard her correctly.

“It’s tradition,” she continued, her voice light as if discussing a holiday ritual. “They say it’s a rite of passage for every Rookwood. If you can’t take a life, you can’t truly call yourself a pure-blood.”

“And… you did it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “Of course. I won’t pretend it wasn’t hard, though. The first time is always the hardest. But after that… it’s exhilarating.”

A chill ran down my spine, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d made a mistake agreeing to this. But there was something in Juniper’s candor, in the way she embraced her darkness so completely, that fascinated me.

“Let’s see if you’re ready,” she said, drawing her wand with a flourish. “Ten paces. No holding back.”

We bowed, observing the formalities. My wand felt heavy in my hand as I turned and walked the required distance.

“Crucio!”

The curse hit me like a firestorm, and I crumpled to the ground. The pain was unbearable, searing through every nerve in my body. I couldn’t scream; I couldn’t move. All I could do was endure.

When the curse lifted, I gasped for air, my limbs trembling as I forced myself to stand.

“Your turn,” Juniper said, her tone almost bored.

I raised my wand, my voice trembling as I cast, “Imperio.”

Juniper’s eyes glazed over, and I felt it immediately—The rush of control was unlike anything I’d ever felt—a dangerous, heady sensation that left me both exhilarated and horrified. Was this what Juniper meant by ‘exhilarating’? Was this what Tom felt when he twisted the world to his will? The thought sent a chill through me, but I couldn’t deny the allure..

It was intoxicating. If I could control Juniper, what could I make Tom Riddle do? Could I force him to confess, to destroy himself? The thought sent a shiver through me, equal parts exhilaration and terror.

But my reverie was short-lived. Juniper broke free of the spell with a practiced ease, her smirk returning.

“My turn,” she said, her voice dripping with anticipation. “Imperio!”

I had no time to react before the spell overtook me. My body moved without my consent, trudging toward the freezing river. The icy water seeped into my boots, biting at my skin, but I couldn’t stop. My arms flailed, my legs danced, my own body betraying me completely.

When she finally released me, I collapsed onto the muddy bank, gasping for breath.

Juniper crouched beside me, her expression alight with excitement. “Did you feel it?” she asked. “The power? It’s so different with people, isn’t it?”

I nodded, too shaken to respond.

That night, the thrill of the duel still coursed through me, lingering like an electric charge in my veins. The memory of Juniper’s curses—the pain, the control, the raw power—played over and over in my mind. But no matter how intoxicating the memory, my thoughts drifted back to Azkaban. To him.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The flicker of recognition in his eyes, so faint yet unmistakable. He was in there, beneath the Imperius mask, beneath the years of torment and decay. My father—Morfin Gaunt—was still fighting, still holding onto something. And if he could fight through that, then so could I.

The realization burned within me, equal parts hope and anguish. I needed him to know I hadn’t abandoned him, that I wasn’t going to let Tom Riddle’s lies define the Gaunt legacy.

I watched the small, intricate timepiece dangle from my fingers, the hourglass shimmering faintly in the moonlight. It felt heavier than usual tonight, as though it understood the weight of my decision.

The last grains of sand slipped into place, and with a careful twist of the time-turner, the world blurred around me. A sickening lurch gripped my stomach, and the present unraveled into shadows and whispers of the past.

When the spinning stopped, Azkaban loomed ahead, its jagged silhouette slicing into the night sky just as I remembered. The oppressive weight of despair pressed down on me, seeping into my bones with each step.

I had been here before—or rather, I hadn’t. Not in the timeline that existed now. But the guards didn’t seem to care. They barely glanced at me as I passed, too accustomed to my supposed visits to question them. Time had a way of weaving my actions into its fabric without tearing the threads.

The cell was as I’d left it—or would leave it—dark, damp, reeking of salt and decay. And there he was, sitting in the shadows, his gaunt frame slumped but not broken. His head turned slowly as I approached, and his hollowed eyes met mine.

I drew in a shaky breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze. The flicker was still there, faint but steady, like the last ember of a dying fire.

“I know you’re in there,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the distant crash of waves against the prison walls. “I know you can hear me. I know you see me.”

His lips didn’t move, but something shifted in his expression—a tightening of his jaw, a slight narrowing of his eyes. It was enough.

“I have a plan,” I said, my voice trembling despite my resolve. “To avenge you. To avenge us. Tom Riddle will know the wrath of the Gaunts.”

The words spilled out before I could stop them. I told him everything—about the lies, the betrayal, the stolen legacy. About the darkness I was learning to wield and the power I was determined to claim. My chest heaved as I spoke, the emotions pouring out in waves: rage, sorrow, desperation.

“For so long, I thought I was alone,” I admitted, my voice cracking. “But I see you now. I see you fighting. And I’m not going to let him win. Not this time.”

For a brief moment, something flickered in his expression—not just recognition, but pride. It was so fleeting I almost missed it, but it was there, a spark of approval that cut through the years of bitterness and pain.

And then, as if spoken directly into my mind, his voice came, unbidden but unmistakable: Revenge can consume even the strongest will.

The words hit me like a curse, sharp and unrelenting. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I struggled to process them. How could he say that? After everything Tom had done to him, to us? Did he expect me to just let it go?

“I’m not like you,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I won’t let it consume me. I’ll control it. The darkness will obey me, not the other way around.”

But even as I said the words, doubt crept in like a shadow at the edges of my mind. What if he was right? What if this path I was on led only to ruin?

I stepped back from the cell, my resolve wavering but not breaking. His hollowed eyes followed me, and for a moment, I thought I saw something else in them—a warning, or perhaps a plea

The cold night air hit me like a slap as I left the prison, the heavy iron doors slamming shut behind me. I could still feel the time-turner against my chest, its presence a constant reminder of the choice I’d made to revisit this moment.

My father’s words echoed in my mind, relentless and insistent: Revenge can consume even the strongest will.

I clutched my wand tightly, the wood biting into my palm. My chest felt heavy, as though the weight of centuries of Gaunt history had settled there, demanding more from me than I thought I could give.

But I refused to let his warning take root.

I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t a pawn in someone else’s story.

The darkness would not consume me. It would obey. Above me, the stars were faint and distant, hidden behind clouds. I didn’t need their light—I would forge my own, brighter and more powerful than anything the heavens could offer.

#bloodandlegacy #hpfanfic #harrypotter #ominis gaunt #legacyfanfic #slytherin #hogwarts legacy #gaunt family #harry potter fanfiction #sebastian sallow #AIphotocreator #aiphotos

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