#and besides if we were 'born holy' how did we lose that holiness? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purplesurveys · 2 years ago

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1678

What are three names you like that start with the same letter as your fist name? Just any variation of Rose, really. Rose, Rosie, Rosalie, Rosalia...I’m not so big on other R names.

How old will you turn on your next birthday? I’ll be 26 but I’ve got around nearly a whole year to go til then.

What are three things you like about your birth month (besides it being the month your birthday is in)? It’s the month I became ARMY, it’s Cooper’s birth month, and the Holy Week lets us have 5-6 days off work.

...and what are three things you dislike about it? IT’S HOT and I can’t think of any other reason. It just gets so unfairly hot.

List three celebrities that are the same height as you. Google tells me Lady Gaga, Ariana Grande, and Reese Witherspoon. The first two I’ve kind of known for a while, but I didn’t know Reese is so tiny?????????

Are you happy with your height, or do you wish you were shorter or taller? Why? I’m fine with being 5′1″. It’s pretty average (for girls) where I’m from, and in fact tall people are such a rarity that people would end up staring at you and pointing out how tall you are every chance they get as if you don’t already know – and I don’t want tallness to be a personality trait of mine hahahaha.

List three celebrities who have the same natural hair color as you. Idk man all the Filams, they’ve all got black hair. Vanessa Hudgens, Darren Criss, Bruno Mars.

Is your hair color natural right now, or is it dyed? It’s dyed but it looks gross now. I’ll dye it back to purple a few days before my trip so my vacation photos can turn out cute.

Which family member did you inherit your hair color from? Doesn’t really work that way with Filipino DNA. You get one choice – black, lol.

List three things in nature that are the same color as your eyes. 👀 Soil, tree trunks, mud.

Are you happy with your current weight, or do you wish you weighed more or less? I’m okay with it, I find it pretty proportionate to my height though I am prone to falling underweight every now and then.

If applicable, how many pounds do you want to lose? I’ve never wanted or striven to lose weight.

How many years has it been since you were last a student enrolled in school? 🏫 It’ll be three years this year.

What was your favorite class in high school? History :)

Section 2 - Family

(A/N: What was Section 1...?)

Do you have kids, and if so, what are their names? No kids.

Are you closer to your mom or your dad? Dad. He’s away more, but he’s also the easier to talk and relate to.

How many sisters do you have? One.

How many brothers do you have? Also one.

If you had a twin sister, what would she be named? No idea but that’s a good question; I’d love to get my parents’ thoughts on that. How many dogs have you had in your lifetime? 🐶 We’ve had three, including the two we currently have. :)

How many cats have you had in your lifetime? 🐈 One, Arlee.

Do you prefer dogs or cats? Dogs.

How many dogs have you had that probably would have been diagnosed with ADHD had they been human? What a random question, lol. Idk probably Cooper, but only in certain scenarios. He’s considerably chilled out over the last year.

What is your favorite dog breed? Aspin, if they count.

Who in your family is or was the same height as you? Not sure. Everyone is ever so slightly taller than me LOL

Where was your dad born? The Philippines, I’m not specifying where.

Where was your mom born? ^ Same.

Where were you born? Manila.

Using a flag emoji, which country were you born in? 🇵🇭

...and which country do you currently live in? 🇵🇭

Using flag emojis, what is your nationality? 🇵🇭

Using a flag emoji, what is the origin of your last name? 🇪🇸🇵🇹

Have you ever met anyone unrelated to you that had the same last name as you? Yes. It’s not a super popular surname, but it does come around every once in a while. It’s not entirely obscure.

How many sister-in-laws do you have? Well in an arbitrary sense, one. She’s technically going to be a cousin-in-law as she’s my cousin’s fiancée, but that cousin is much like an older brother so I usually consider and mention her as a future sister-in-law.

How many brother-in-laws do you have? None.

How many nieces do you have? None.

How many nephews do you have? Also none. My generation of siblings and cousins is taking it super slow haha.

How many of your grandparents are still living? Three of them. I lost my maternal grandpa in 2015.

As far as you know, what types of cancer are in your family? No clue. My family doesn’t like talking about the disease and just refers to it as ‘c-word,’ and never goes into specifics, so I don’t actually know if it runs in the family and if it does, what type/s.

Section 3 - Talents

What are three things you are good at? Writing, researching, reading people.

Can you touch your nose to your tongue? 👅👃 Nope. I’ve tried too many times to try it again just now, but I know I can’t.

Can you wiggle your ears? 👂 No and I’ve only ever known one person who can – my uncle.

Can you lick your elbow? I can’t.

Can you do the splits? Nah. I tried to be able to do it as a kid, but the skill isn’t for me.

Can you bend over and touch your toes? I also can’t, unless they’re far enough apart.

Are you double-jointed? I’m not.

Can you bend your tongue into a clover? ☘️ 👅 No. I can do the U-shape but that’s it, no other shapes.

What are three of your favorite creative hobbies? Can past hobbies count? I used to do embroidery and coloring :) These days I’ve been making bracelets – I plan to give them out as freebies during the Yoongi concert and it’s been more fun than I expected! I’ve currently made 45 bracelets but I’ve got a ways to go since I actually plan on giving out 100. Maybe even more if I happen to have some time (and beads) left. But with only around a little over two weeks left before the show, we’ll have to wait and see. Are you good at taking pictures? 📸 My camera is good at taking photos, but I’m not. I never did get the hang of angles and photo editing and such.

What are three things you've been complimented on? Writing, work ethic, speaking skills.

What are three of your favorite things to do? WRITING, watching documentaries and vlogs, going to coffee shops.

What is your dream job? Doing PR for a company/brand I admire.

...and are you currently working in your dream job? Not exactly, no. It’s the same job, just not *where* I particularly want to be.

Section 4 - Religion and Spirituality

Do you consider yourself spiritual? No.

Do you consider yourself religious? Not at all.

What do you think of when you hear the word "religious"? Rules.

What do you think of when you hear the word "spirituality"? Those people who are into yoga and crystals.

Do you have a positive or negative view of the word "religion"? Mostly negative. Then again my experience has been largely around Christianity which is the main contributor to the way I view religion. I can’t really speak for how I view other religions; the topic in general is just so broad.

Do you have a positive or negative view of the word "spiritual"? Neutral with a dash of, “I really don’t buy it.” Who is the most spiritual person you know? Some celebrity I got to work with for one of my previous accounts. I once had dinner with her and she went on and on about her crystals and meditation and getting in touch with her soul, and I just had to politely nod my head and go “Ooh” and “Ahh” for like 3 hours. Don’t get me wrong lol it was a genuinely good conversation but not nearly enough to convince me still.

When was the last time you stepped foot inside of a church? ⛪�� Two Sundays ago. We attend church weekly, but I say two Sundays ago because I happened to be at a work event last weekend.

Do you regularly attend church? Why or why not? ⛪️ Yes. My mom is religious and takes the whole family to church. On my part though I ditched religion and stopped listening to the service since I was 10.

Have you ever been to a mosque? 🕌 I haven’t, but when I went to Malaysia which I believe is largely Muslim, I learned about the concept of prayer rooms and found it very fascinating. That was my biggest takeaway when we went to Legoland hahahaha it wasn’t even any of the rides or the LEGO exhibits :((

Have you ever been to a synagogue? 🕍 Nope. Judaism is relatively weak in this part of the world, so haven’t had a lot of exposure besides its ties to Christianity.

What is the symbol for the religion or spirituality that you practice, if applicable? I don’t practice Christianity but considering it’s my religion at the very least in the legal sense – cross.

What is your favorite religious holiday? I don’t have any.

If applicable, does your faith mean a lot to you? Not applicable.

Do you ever feel embarrassed or hesitant to tell others what you believe, for fear of being judged? No, I’ve never found it difficult to say I’m atheist.

Do you have the same worldview as your parents? Probably not.

If applicable, what is your favorite version of the Bible to read? 📖 Idk I never paid attention to the different versions.

Have you ever read the entire Bible? I tried when I was much younger but I got bored a few books into the Old Testament. My memory of the four Gospels is pretty sharp, though, considering we read them daily throughout elementary and high school.

...and if so, how many times have you done it? I’ve never read the Bible in its entirety but as for the Gospels I went over those every single day for like 10 years.

If applicable, what are three of your favorite Christian songs? I don’t have any particular favorites but I remember liking those where you can do a second voice just because they’re fun to do and makes you feel like you’re good at singing hahaha.

Have you ever attended a Christian school? 🏫 I went to Catholic school for 14 years, yes.

How often do you pray? 🙏 Never.

Do you own a set of prayer beads? 📿 You mean like a rosary? No.

Have you ever danced in church? 💃 I have not.

Have you ever been baptized, and if so, where and how were you baptized? 🌊 Yup, I received a Catholic baptism when I was a little over a month old.

For a church, what is your favorite denomination? I don’t have a favorite denomination. Do people have favorites for this sort of thing?

Have you ever been filled with the Holy Spirit? Uh...

Do you believe that speaking in tongues is a real thing? No. I never did know what that means.

Do you have any art on your walls that has a Scripture on it, and if so, which one? No, but we have a portrait of the Last Supper in the kitchen and a crucifix in each room.

Section 5 - Politics

How many presidential elections have you voted in? ��️ Twice! First in 2016, then in 2022.

Do you support the First Amendment? (The First Amendment gives us the freedom of religion and freedom of speech). The what?

What is your country's flag? The Philippine flag. White side triangle, three yellow stars and a sun, blue over red.

Would you ever consider going into politics? Kind of. I very briefly considered becoming a lawyer before I realized how much I hate debating and how I’m not likely to survive recitals and regular humiliation from law professors.

Do you engage in political discussions on social media? If I absolutely give a shit about whatever issue is at hand, yes. I’ve gotten into discussions with cousins with whom I didn’t necessarily agree.

Are you happy with the current state of your nation? The current president is the son of That Dictator, I could never be happy about it. But apart from him, the country has long been rampant with corruption anyway so there was never anything to be happy about in the first place.

I have a friend who thinks the government is going to kill us all. Do you believe the government is going to kill us all? I believe they are very well capable of doing so. They have done it in the past, what’s going to stop them from doing it again?

Section 6 - Health

How many different medications do you normally take daily? 💊 I don’t take any.

What is the worst side effect or withdrawal effect that you've ever experienced from a medication? Feeling like death after each of my Covid vaccine doses and boosters. I felt like my skin was glass so I couldn’t move for like 12 hours.

Which medication(s) do you hate the most, and why? I never really hated any that I’ve had to take.

Which medication(s) do you feel have helped you the most, and why? I remember when I had my UTI in 2020 and the first doctor I went to (also a family friend) prescribed me medicine that did not do JACK SHIT, and I continued feeling like a corpse in the 2-3 days I was taking the medication. Angela’s mom who’s a pediatrician was worried sick about me and went ahead and gave me a different prescription, which worked in LITERALLY like half an hour. That was the closest to magic I’ve ever felt lmao; I continue to feel so grateful to her for the help.

What health conditions (that you know of) do you have? Scoliosis.

What are you allergic to? Grass, if anything. My skin feels irritated by it in the most random scenarios.

How many different primary care doctors have you had in your lifetime? None. I always go to different ones.

Have you ever received a dismissal letter from a doctor's office? Nope.

Is your current doctor a male or female? I don’t have a main one.

Do you prefer male or female doctors? Why? I don’t care for the most part.

Have you ever been refused treatment at a doctor's office or hospital? 🏥 No.

What is the most significant health issue you are dealing with right now? Probably my scoliosis.

What, if any, are some health issues you've had in the past that you don't deal with anymore? None. Most of my issues have been short-term, like when I had low platelet count and had to be admitted overnight.

How is your mental health? How has it been lately? It’s stable, to be generous about it. I’m just relieved to be no longer experiencing breakdowns and panic attacks which used to be an everyday thing.

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sillywolffoxwrites · 1 year ago

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Prologue The Road to Amn 11th of Flamerule, 1490 - Day 43,741, Hour 9

(Here's a quick bio written by Yuze, with notes about our backgrounds and life expectancy, because apparently he likes to remind himself of his and everyone else's mortality.) - Aurelia Pictured above, from Left To Right Aurelia High Elf: Avg life expectancy 750 yrs. Age: 20 Born: ??/??/1348 Ferrum Half Orc/Half Human: Avg life expectancy 74 yrs. Age: 28 Born: 29th of Eleint, 1340 Yuze Half Elf/Half Human: Avg life expectancy 150 yrs. Age: 39 Born: ?? of Flamerule, 1329 (I just appreciate anthropology my dearest daughter) - Yuze

The events of the Iron Crisis all happened so damn fast. 1368 was a busy year, saving the sword coast from war, saving Baldurs gate. The months after killing my half-brother and saving us from war with Amn would be a blur. But the cult of Bhaal still lingered, The letters that follow detail our attempts to get rid of the last cultists of Bhaal, and to deal with the new threat that loomed over us, that of the Aasimar, Caelar Argent.

Since the beginning of our adventures, the meaning of Bhaals cult had changed for me. From a group of faceless zealots, to the homicidal fan club for the worst father ever. Now I have a fourth father. Gorion, Ferrum, Yuze, and Bhaal. He raped my mother, Sarevok's mother, and countless others. He sired a multitude of siblings, hoping some how we could bring about his holy resurrection. That's all I knew at the time. Ferrum would lead our fight against the cult, and many other evil-doers and miscreants (as Minsc would call them) besides. It confused me that amidst all our heroism his faith would fail him. Now I understand. We saw so much injustice that he began to lose confidence in Helm. Maybe we *should* be critical of our gods, but who am I to say. Ferrum lost favor with Helm, and his holy magics have gone dark. In light of his lost healing magic, he would grow to become quite the potions master, even after his magic eventually returned. Yuze seemed as much the sage as he ever was, looking barely older than myself all the while. It contrasted Ferrum's streaks of white hair, and his crows feet. I miss my father. I have outlived him by some hundred years, and still I miss him. I know Yuze does too. None the less, I would begin to grow as a leader, as well as silently taking up my own crusade. To atone for the sins of my father, and to resist his legacy. For so long I was just surviving, fleeing from assassins, reacting in the moment. Now I had a purpose. My exposure to the outside world that year had been eye opening. The monks of Candlekeep taught me to value equity, and I believe in the justice Ferrum taught me, but Baldur's Gate, no, the whole sword coast it seemed, did not. What justice was there when every Gnoll Kobold and Hoboglin were slain on sight? Their deeds never making it to a scale to be measured. Where was justice for the poor? One emergency, one disaster, or the misfortune of parentage, and a person is damned to starve in the streets, waiting for a coin or two from greed mongers with more wealth than they could ever spend. Unlike my father, I saw authority to be questioned, and laws to be disregarded if they did not serve any good. Maybe he saw it too, and that's why Helm forsook him. He could be a very strict god.

I believed I could use my rogue skills to find my own justice. The rich did not need all their gold, and I was all too happy to part them from it.

First though, the cult of Bhaal. The beginning of our story would find us in the undercity, in the neighborhoods surrounding Bhaal's temple. Imoen was there with us, she'd been doing well and had begun to train as a mage under the tutelage of Duke Jannath, a powerful teacher indeed. Minsc and Dynaheir were well. It was good to feel Minsc's wamth in this cold place - and Dynaheir was always good to talk strategy with. Not to mention she doubled the magical output of our team. Lastly we hosted a newcomer, Safana. She was a bit shady for our taste, but knew her way around the ruins.

Let us tell you of our adventures, of how we stopped the Shining Lady, of fights and folly, and knowing my fathers, probably fucking (I don't read those entries - ew). Let us tell you our story. - Aurelia

#Baldur's Gate #BG 1.5 #BG:SoD #RP #Aurelia #Prologue

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pizzaqueen · 2 years ago

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Buckingham with a side of Steddie / just under 1k / rated T

Thank you for the encouragement to post this @courtjestermunson (and thank you to @legitcookie for also being encouraging about it)

“Never have I ever…” Robin twirls her hair, biting her lip. They’ve been playing for long enough that her head is starting to spin a little, though in a nice way, which is weird because head spinning shouldn’t feel nice, should it? She shakes her head, regrets it, then says, “Kissed a guy.”

She’s not surprised to see Chrissy drink where she’s sitting with her legs tucked beneath her on the other side of the coffee table. (God, she’s so pretty.) And she’s not surprised to see Eddie drink beside her. But, when she turns to tell Steve it’s his turn, and sees him tip his drink to his mouth, the shock sends the whole room spinning.

“You can’t… You can’t drink just because you want to,” she says. “You have to have done the thing.”

“I know.”

“But you haven’t…” Robin licks her lips. Steve gives her a look that says Yeah I have. Holy shit. “Who?”

On her other side, Eddie clears his throat and, when she looks over, he wiggles his fingers and says, “That would be me,” grinning.

Robin looks back to Steve. “You kissed Eddie and you didn’t tell me?”

“It was a recent development,” Steve says, arms folded over his stomach.

“Very recent,” Eddie adds.

Robin blinks. Through the haze of alcohol, she remembers Eddie and Steve slipping away to the kitchen earlier, Steve coming back looking all flushed and— “Did you guys kiss in my kitchen?” They were gone a while and they’d looked rumpled, too. “Oh my god.” She whacks Steve’s knee. “Did you make out in my kitchen?”

“A little?” Steve holds his fingers up, pinching them together.

“Ugh.” Robin screws her nose up. “How come you never told me?” She leans toward Steve, nearly losing her balance.

“I didn’t really know I wanted to until I did, you know?” No, Robin doesn’t know—she’s never not known she wanted to kiss girls—but Steve rubs the back of his neck, gaze flicking beyond Robin, probably to Eddie. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Um…” Robin’s a little confused and she’s a little hurt that Steve didn’t tell her but if he didn’t know then she guesses he couldn’t have told her, so it’s not like he didn’t trust her or anything. “Yes,” she says, “later,” and blinks at the glass in her hand. “Who’s turn is it?”

“It’s mine,” Steve says, shaking his head.

Next time it’s Robin’s turn, she decides to be brave. Steve was brave—or maybe drunk—so she can be too. “Never have I ever kissed a girl,” she says and, with an encouraging look from Steve, adds, “Yet.”

Steve drinks, a small smile hidden behind his glass.

Eddie drinks, which makes Robin furrow her brows in his direction. He shrugs. “Wanted to be sure, I guess.” He grins. “Wasn’t my thing.”

She nods.

But when Chrissy drinks, Robin’s heart stutters, and everything comes to a stop. At least Steve looks surprised this time, though Eddie doesn’t.

“It was at a party. Spin the bottle.” Chrissy shrugs. She looks at Robin across the divide of the coffee table Robin’s dad made before she was born, her cheeks pink in the candlelight. “It was kind of nice, actually.”

Robin decides to file that way for later. Well, she would if her mental filing system wasn’t total chaos right now. All she can think to say is:

“Oh my god, am I the only person who still hasn’t kissed anyone?” At the ensuing silence, Robin picks up the bottle of whiskey Steve purloined from his father, unscrews the cap and drinks right from it.

“Gimme that.” Steve tugs the bottle out of her hands.

“I’m depressed! I want to be drunk.”

“You’re already drunk.” Steve rolls his eyes. “We all are.”

Robin groans and flops back onto the shag rug. “This game is dumb.”

“The night’s not over, yet, Buckley,” Eddie says, then shuffles off to the record player. He puts on Cream, makes a vaguely approving noise, and comes back to sit next to Steve.

“Hey, Robin,” Chrissy says.

Robin lifts her head.

“I could use a glass of water.” Chrissy’s fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater. “Come to the kitchen with me?”

“Oh, it’s fine, you can help yourself.” Robin waves back toward the kitchen. “The glasses are in the first cabinet.”

“Well, I…” Chrissy bites her lip. “Okay.” She hesitates a moment, then pushes herself to her feet, heading toward the kitchen. “You don’t need anything?”

“Nope. I’m fine.” Oh, she is so far from fine. First, Steve kisses Eddie in her kitchen, and now Robin finds out Chrissy Cunningham has kissed another girl and it was kind of nice actually? Definitely not fine.

“Okay,” Chrissy says again, and slips into the kitchen.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Eddie says.

“Yeah.”

Steve nudges her knee and says, “Are you really sure?” looking pointedly toward the kitchen.

“Yeah…” There’s something here Robin isn’t getting, she’s not drunk enough to not know that. But what? “I don’t…”

“Oh my god,” Steve says, face in his hands, “just go to the kitchen with her!”

Robin looks between Steve and Eddie, both of them giving her expectant looks and Chrissy didn’t need Robin’s help but she asked her to go to the kitchen with her, anyway, and…

Oh.

Oh?

“Chrissy, wait.” She scrambles to her feet, stumbling over her own steps as she heads for the kitchen.

Chrissy’s standing by the sink, sipping a glass of water, brows raising at Robin.

“I guess I need something after all?” Robin doesn’t mean it to come out as a question, but maybe she misinterpreted Steve and Eddie, and she doesn’t want to mess this up.

But then Chrissy smiles, tentative, beautiful, and says, “Maybe I can help,” and Robin’s stomach swoops.

She smiles back and says, “I hope so,” heart racing when Chrissy curls her hand around her wrist and closes the distance between them.

#Buckingham #steddie #Chrissy x robin #bandcheer #robin x Chrissy #platonic stobin #kind of???#pizzaqueenfic #posted this yesterday then got embarrassed and deleted it but I’m going to be brave and post it again lol #buckingham fic

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yourheartonfire · 3 years ago

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It was a mistake. It was a series of compounding mistakes, starting yesterday when the hero had (1) admitted to themselves they were lonely. Going to the clubs, the bars wasn't a mistake in and of itself - the hero had done it plenty of times. They were fit enough and cleaned up nice; it was never a problem to find someone else lonely and bored and looking for some no-strings-attached fun.

But then (2) their cutie of the night was a talker, (3) an engaging talker, and (4) the hero found themselves talking back. The next thing they knew (5) they were swapping anecdotes and chicken soup recipes, and then (6) they'd somehow wound up back in hero's apartment instead of the car or at least a hotel, and the next thing they knew (7) they'd woken up the next morning with their civilian cutie cozied up next to them in their bed, murmuring sleepy questions about coffee, and of course (8) the hero kept their second set of dishes, cups, mugs, on the high shelf in the kitchen.

All of which led to this moment. A civilian in the doorway of their kitchen, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, staring at the hero floating 4 feet in the air, frozen with a stack of dusty plates in one hand and a Garfield mug in the other.

"Holy shit!" the civilian whispered.

The hero dropped to the floor in a clatter of shattered ceramics. "No. Nope. You didn't see that."

"You're powered?" the civilian gasped. "Oh, this explains so much."

The hero blinked. "What do you mean, it explains - No! Don't come any closer!"

The civilian froze. "Why?"

"You're barefoot and this floor is covered in ceramic shards."

The civilian clasped their hands under their chin, like some delighted Victorian child. "Are you going to fly again?"

The hero glared at them and stomped over the shards to the broom closet.

"Invulnerability," the civilian breathed. "And flight! Wait. You must be-!"

"Don't say it out loud!" the hero yelped. "Don't say... don't say anything, or do anything, or be here. Oh my god, I'm going to lose my license. How could I be so stupid?"

"Hey now," said the civilian, sounding a bit alarmed. They did a weird shuffle step hop over the broken plates to the hero's side, hovering anxiously beside them as the hero bent over the sink, trying not to throw up in a panic. "I'm not gonna narc you out or blab on insta or something. I'm not a complete shit person."

"No, of course not," said the hero, fanning their face. "But it's a breach. It's exposed you to risk-"

"See, this is what I mean!" said the civilian, rubbing a hand into the hero's back. "You walk around with the weight of the world on your shoulders. I figured you were a Leo -"

"You thought I was a Law Enforcement Officer?" the hero asked.

The civilian scoffed. "No, a Leo. Like, born in August. You feel like you can't ever relax or make even the tiniest mistake or it's all going to end in death and it'll be all your fault?"

The hero swallowed, looked down at last night's dirty dishes. "I'm a Gemini," they muttered.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's so on the nose!" the civilian said with a sympathetic laugh, winding their arms around the hero's waist.

The hero did not push them away. (9.) Not even when their lips brushed the hero's neck. (10.)

"Let me buy you breakfast," the civilian hummed into their ear. "We can talk about this - or not! We can never mention this again if that's what you need. But." They cupped the hero's face in their hand. The hero stared back into their civilian's eyes as if caught in a hypno ray. "I would like to talk about it. I... kinda get the feeling you don't talk enough about this stuff."

"You should go," the hero whispered. "I'm not safe."

The civilian gave them a look of such deep sympathy the hero though they'd melt on the spot. "Nobody in this crazy city is," the civilian whispered back. And there was nothing for the hero to do but (11) pull them back into a desperate, hungry kiss.

They wondered how high they could get the number to go

#my fiction #heroes and villains #civilian x hero #hero x civilian #hero x villain #i hope the LEO/Leo joke worked for you #i liked it.#fluff #100 #300 #500

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stariwrites · 4 years ago

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Better When It Feels Wrong

This was for the CEO collab hosted by @cherrytenko thank you for letting me join!!

You can find the rest of the works for this collab here!

18+ Minors DNI

Midnight x Miruko x Fem! reader

Warnings: threesome, mommy and daddy kink, pegging, praise kink, biting/marking, oral sex, semi public sex, slight choking, sub reader, dom Rumi, dom Nemuri, degradation

Summary: You shouldn’t be doing this, none of you should. Especially not in their office where anybody could see if they opened the door, but you needed this. Nobody could treat you like they did even if they were your bosses.

“She’s so cute when she squirms like that,” Nemuri cooed against your neck before she continued sucking. You whimpered, craning your neck away from her so she had more room. Her tongue was wet and warm against your skin. You tried to press your thighs together, but they were roughly shoved apart.

“Ms. Usagiyama” was all you managed to gasp out. She rubbed circles into your inner thighs as Nemuri sucked directly onto your sweet spot. You closed your eyes tightly.

You shouldn’t be doing this, none of you should. Especially not in their office where anybody could see if they opened the door, but you needed this. Nobody could treat you like they did even if they were your bosses. You could feel Rumi trailing kisses up your thighs, sucking marks into them and occasionally using her teeth.

“Such a sweet little thing, but that’s not what you're supposed to call me, is it baby?” She landed a harsh bite into your inner thigh, causing you to jolt. It was almost as if electricity flowed through your body.

“Daddy!” You moaned attempting to arch towards her, but Nemuri stopped you with her hands on your hips. She rubbed slow circles into your flesh before moving her hands to your back. They trailed against the exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up, racking shivers through you. Slowly sliding her hands down to your ass to give it a squeeze. Her acrylic nails dug into your skin through your skirt while a breathy moan escaped your lips.

She moaned against your neck, her hot breath against you was driving you wild. You needed them and you needed them now. You couldn’t handle anymore teasing or you’d swear you’d go insane.

“Look at that, our little pain slut,” Nemuri whispered, biting the shell of your ear. You gasped as the other two laughed softly at your reactions.

“M’not, not a pain-ah!” Rumi’s tongue trailed against you over your panties. You were putty in their arms, just the way they liked you. Ever since they hired you they wanted you in between them just like this. Their hands were everywhere, under your shirt, along your stomach, gripping your legs. You felt perfectly surrounded.

“I think we should take these off, don’t you think cutie?” Rumi whispered, her hands moving to your skirt. You nodded, breathing heavily in between them. She smiled at you while her hands moved towards the zipper. She locked eyes with Nemuri as she slowly pulled your skirt down, leaving you in black stockings and your button down shirt.

She growled once the garment was off. From behind you Midnight whistled slowly, her hands going back to rest onto your bare ass. The lacey black thong on full display. “Fuck,” she said pulling at the material. “Wanted to surprise us hm? What a pretty little baby we have here,” she met Rumi’s eyes that were blown wide. “Wouldn’t you agree Rumi?”

Rumi pulled away from you with a cocky smile. “I’d say so, our good girl really knows how to cheer us up, doesn’t she?”

Tears began to build in your eyes as Rumi began to lick you through the underwear. “Mommy, daddy please, need it I need it so bad, please.”

Nemuri slides her hands over your stomach and to your chest, occasionally scraping her nails against your skin. “Please what baby?” Her voice is soft while she starts to massage your tits. A broken mewl falls from your lips. You can feel Rumi move the thong to the side, her tongue rubbing against your clit. Her hands are on your hips, rubbing small circles into them. Her hands are rough against you driving you closer to madness.

“You’ve got to say what you want or else we won’t be able to give it to you properly.”

You whimpered feeling pressure on your neck. The air around you was warm. You couldn’t focus on anything else. They were so mean, they knew exactly what you wanted. “I want,” you began only to cut yourself off with a gasp at the feeling of a finger entering you.

“Go on,” Nemuri encouraged taking your earlobe in her mouth. “Tell mommy what you want baby.”

“I want,” you said in between moans. “I want you to sit on my face while daddy fucks me, please mommy.” Both of them groaned at your words, sending vibrations throughout your body. It sent the feeling straight to your already throbbing clit.

“Holy shit,” Nemuri breathed, taking a step back to undo her skirt as well as unbutton her shirt. You looked back at her until a harsh suck of your clit brought you to look down. “Eyes on me princess,” Rumi snarled. Her ears looked so soft atop her head.

“Yes Daddy, m’sorry.”

Hesitantly, you reached your hand towards her, not knowing if it was okay to touch. Wordlessly, she brought your hand to her hair with a coo and picked up her pace.

All you could do was hold her hair while she looked up at you with a predatory gaze. You looked so pretty above her, already fucked out of your mind when they hadn’t even started yet. You were always so pliant, so needy for them it made the woman's head spin. She still remembered when you first came to their agency with wide eyes filled with awe. You’d been so innocent and now you were trained to take them whenever and wherever they wanted you. Her pussy clenched at that thought alone. She couldn’t wait until she pegged you, how sweet your noises would be while she’d grab your ass while biting the back of your neck.

“Don’t have all the fun now babe,” Nemuri said, stepping into both of your eyesights. Her outfit was replaced with fishnet tights with black lingerie. It fit her in all the right places with intricate zippers. Your mouth watered you couldn’t wait to taste her.

“Please,” you whispered, staring at her in awe before focusing back onto Rumi. “Use me.”

They didn’t need to be told twice, both exchanged a wordless agreement and brought you to lay down against the desk. “I’ve always wanted to do it like this,” Rumi said, grabbing you by the legs to pull you closer to her. Your upper body was resting against the desk while your legs rested onto Rumi’s shoulders. She shot you a triumphant grin which was all the warning you received before she dived back into your cunt. Licking it with precise strokes. You arched your back, riding her tongue.

You almost missed it when Nemuri straddled you, her ass in your face. “Well baby,” she said. “Get to work.”

You nodded a small yes mommy left your lips as you dove into her cunt. You held onto her thighs gripping onto the fishnets while you began to eat her out like you were starved. You couldn’t get enough. You could already feel drool dripping down your chin, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care. Not when Nemuri was moaning above you, her voice deep.

“Feels good baby, you’re doing so good. Such a good girl.”

Rumi whistled lowly at the scene in front of her. Nemuri’s eyes were shut tightly, her black hair draped over her shoulders while your hands were wrapped around your thighs, stroking soft circles into them as she rode your tongue.

“Well aren’t you two a sight?” She teased before going back down on you while Nemuri’s thighs caged you in, all you could breathe was her. You loved it, you loved them.

Two fingers soon joined the first inside you making you moan. You were close, you could feel it. You pulled away from her to catch your breath.

“Need it, need it so bad I’m so close! Mommy, daddy please!” You babbled in between moans, diving back into Nemuri.

She gasped at the sensation, moaning breathily while Rumi stood up from in between your legs, carefully placing them onto the floor. She shot Nemuri, a teasing look. “Feel good?”

“Come here,” she growled, grabbing the bunny hero by her hair. They both groaned into the kiss. You clenched against Rumi’s fingers at the noises they were making. Both of them were fighting for dominance. You pulled Nemuri closer to you causing her to lose the battle as Rumi twisted her tongue around the woman’s. When they pulled away the two were both breathless.

It wasn’t until then that you felt the strap rubbing against your pussy you didn’t know when she put it on too caught up on the sounds of their tongues twisting together leaving drool on your stomach.

“Ready baby?” Rumi asked, sliding it between your folds. Pulling away from Nemuri once more you babbled a mixture of please daddy and want you inside. Taking that as her cue she pushed in. You moaned into Nemuri, your eyes almost rolling into the back of your skull. The toy filled you out so well, it hit against the spongy spot inside of you making you see stars.

When Rumi began thrusting you couldn’t take it. Variations of mommy and daddy spilled from your lips as Nemuri began to pick up her pace to match Rumi’s, grinding against your tongue.

“Such a good girl for mommy baby, making me feel so good,” she moaned rising higher in pitch.

“Daddy loves your tight cunt baby,” Rumi grunted thrusting into you harder. “Sucks my strap in so well like you were born to take it, what would your coworkers think if they saw you now all spread out letting your bosses use you like a little slut?” She licked her lips watching your tits bounce with her thrusts. She didn’t miss the way your pussy clenched at her words.

“Oh, do you like that baby? Like the thought of somebody realizing how good you are to us, have them see you crying on my strap? You gonna cum? Do it then!”

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, with a thumb against your clit you felt your orgasm crash into you. Nemuri followed soon after and as soon as she did she rested beside you on the desk until Rumi pulled out the strap. With a fucked out smile, she rubbed your abused clit before slapping it.

“Such a good little pussy,” she said, sending Nemuri that same smirk. In the blink of an eye she was in front of Rumi, rubbing hard circles onto her clit while whispering absolute filth into her ear. You watched as Rumi bit down onto Nemuri’s shoulder with a strangled cry.

All of you glanced at each other still trying to catch your breath. “So, you began. “Same time tomorrow?”

#bnha smut #starithirsts #tw praise kink #tw daddy kink #tw mommy kink #tw slight choking #tw pegging #tw biting/marking #bnha midnight smut #nemuri kayama smut #rumi usagiyama smut #tw degradation #nemuri x rumi x female reader #nemuri kayama x female reader #rumi usagiyama x nemuri kayama x female reader #rumi usagiyama x female reader

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fauzhee10069 · 4 years ago

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JoJolion: The Hard Life of Nijimura Kei

…and how she was criminally underutilized by Araki.

Nijimura Kei, the other Joestar in JoJolion besides Josuke & Holy, who was alive during the JJL storyline (until her last role). She was introduced as a young woman in her early 20s, working as the maid in Higashikata, the richest family in Morioh where most of the family members are spoiled.

JJL Chapter 7: Josuke, Go to the Higashikata Family

She was a Stand user, using 「Born This Way」, an automatic Stand that activates when the person she has targeted opens something to attack Josuke as a temporary side boss/antagonist. Knowing that it’s automatic, this sealed her fights to be very limited and hard to develop further (both in terms of mechanism and plot).

It turned out that she is a Joestar and related to Josuke, the main protagonist.

JJL chapter 16 and 17

And her role as Higashikata’s maid was just a disguise to investigate Higashikata's family secret and help her family (mainly her mom, Holy).

JJL Chapter 17: The Lemon and the Tangerine

Kei's life at that time should have been pretty tough, when she got news that her brother had just been declared dead and her mother was terminally ill.

Her father died when she was barely a little girl (according to family tree, Kei was born in 1989 and her father died in 1991, making her just around 2 years old when she lost her father).

As a widow, it also made Holy to have to work as a career woman to support her young children (9 years old Yoshikage and 2 years old Kei were left fatherless). And indirectly took away her time as a 'mother' for Kei.

JJL Chapter 50: Vitamin C and Killer Queen - part 1, look how little Kei looked lonely with her doll.

And back to present time (2011), Kei also had to lose her brother (Yoshikage) and lived alone with the only family member who really depended on her (a very ill mother).

JJL Chapter 58: Dawn of the Higashikata Family

I'm not sure Kei's salary as a maid alone will be able to cover her mother’s medical bills, plus she was in undercover so she couldn't show herself as her family member out-of-nowhere.

The family mostly depended on Yoshikage to pay for it, and very unfortunately that Yoshikage is already dead, causing the payment to be stopped. I'm sure Kei did not want this to happen to her mother, but sadly she couldn't do much.

Supposedly, after Kei's true identity and role were revealed, there should be a secret collaboration between her and Josuke. Too bad we never see it, Kei only occasionally appeared as cameo or one of the 'victims' of the Stand attacks from rock-humans (aka. jobbing).

JJL chapter 75 and 48, not doing anything and got jobbed by 「Vitamin C」& 「Ozon Baby」.

And when she did not get any significant role through the story, she was doing her own business. Turned out that she had been taking care of her mother in hospital.

JJL Chapter 102: The Wonder of You (The Miracle of Your Love) - part 19

And taking care of someone who is in a coma like that is not something that everyone’s willing to do. Surely everyone loves Holy, despite her lesser time as Kei's mother due to her job, her daughter still loves her and that’s why she was willing to take care of her in such a way.

Still, having a life like Kei's is a tough one… and not everyone can live it.

And when Kei got her new significant role in the story, her last chance to help the protagonist as his ally…

Araki gave her such badass intro only to…

JJL Chapter 104: The Wonder of You (The Miracle of Your Love) - part 21, get jobbed once again.

Kei's role in JoJolion is quite disappointing, she is a Joestar, a Stand user, and unlike her mother’s condition, she was fit and well so she should be able to do a lot more than Holy as a Joestar.

Kei is connected to the main protagonist, biologically related in a weird way and she held an independent mission as a spy in the Higashikata family. There should have been a lot she could have done in exchanging information and cooperating with Josuke, but her only product to Josuke throughout the story was an information regarding 'equivalent exchange' ability in Higashikata's land and nothing more.

And in the climax arc of “Wonder of You” where it was Kei’s last chance to cooperate with Josuke in defeating the big villain, when we were expecting an exciting 2-vs-1 battle, her role was only as far as a messenger as she delivered the cellphone (message) from Yasuho and just… die, nothing more to it.

Caato got a great intro (so great that she was wrongly hyped for years), but was absent for a long time and suddenly came back just to die. But even so she still left an impactful impression by defeating the main villain and breaking the family curse.

Too bad, Kei’s character who underwent similar thing ended up just jobbing like that… with her last action that was not so impactful, because we need to surprise the readers.

Kei might be a disappointment, regarding her role as a ‘character’ in JoJolion. But if we look at her as an ‘individual being’ with a life of her own (using the mindset that we are the main characters in our own lives), she had lived a very hard life. And we need to appreciate her toughness, that she still lived her life well, that she did not fall into moral turpitude, or becoming a criminal. She did not abandon her family even though they became a burden to her.

My personal confession:

Kei could be the person I admire right now because I am currently experiencing similar thing as her life. My father got covid and currently he is hospitalized. It’s been around 2 weeks right now. We both live off the island away from family, so I am the only family member who is able to support him. A few days ago he needed a platelet donor, those were the hardest days for me as the only family trying to look for. At least those days have passed. But until now he has not recovered yet and is still being treated in hospital.

Our apartment is far from the hospital so I have to go back and forth there for about 30 minutes almost every day to deliver the basic things he needs. I also have a full time job that can't be left behind. So just imagine how tired I am.

Unlike Kei who can visit his mother and directly take care of her, I can't see my father at all (and you know why). Even so, I stayed strong and did what I could as his daughter, just like Kei. And Kei became part of my inspiration to be as tough as her. Of course I still hope that these hard days will end soon and our family can be happy again together.

Let's pray for the recovery of my father and anyone else who is also seriously ill at this time.

Update: 7/15/2021

Unfortunately, my father just passed away at noon, 7/13/2021. May God forgives his sins. Bless for you all who still have your family intact, and pray for anyone who also lost their loved one by this terrible pandemic.

#kei nijimura #jojolion #jojo meta #character study #character appreciation #jjba part 8 #jojo's bizarre adventure #kyo nijimura #jjba meta #jojo's bizarre appreciation

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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More Than Enough | Owen & Charlie

Requested: hi! can you do an imagine where the reader is like 16/17 and lives with owen and charlie and she finds out her boyfriend back home cheated on her? basically like owen and charlie are acting like big brothers.

A/N: This was too cute to pass up. I did alter it a tiny bit since I don’t think any parent would just send their seventeen year old to Vancouver. Hope you like it though!

Pairing: Platonic!(Owen x Charlie x Reader)

Warnings: Explicit language, cheating, angst

Song(s) used: none

Words: 2,523

Being a Gillespie has had many, many perks. Anyone in your family was always up for an adventure in the middle of the night or ready to jam out at any given moment. Family parties were never dull and the bonds unbreakable.

Until you and your family suddenly moved to Vancouver when your mother found herself a new love and packed her bags within the first few weeks. Of course, only being thirteen at the time, you had no other choice but to go, though it broke your heart saying goodbye to the friends you made in New Brunswick and the close family you left behind.

About four years later, you received a message from your very favorite cousin, Charlie. He’d been your best friend since you were born. Even though he was four years older than you, the two of you were two peas in a pod. He felt like a big brother to you as much as your actual brother did, if not more. And since you left Dieppe, Charlie had been texting you non-stop to make sure you were okay and adapting to your new surroundings.

But the message you received in 2019 made your heart leap.

Guess who’s coming to Vancouver for work?

(It’s me!)

You had chuckled at the second message, shaking your head at the fact that your favorite cousin hadn’t changed one bit since the last time you saw him.

Charlie had told you he’d auditioned for this new Netflix show directed by the legend himself, Kenny Ortega. You were the biggest fan of the man, so you made sure you did all the superstitious things you could to make sure he’d get the part. You had burnt dozens of candles, prayed every night and kept the lucky blue rabbit’s foot with you every day. Charlie had given you the blue rabbit’s foot the day you left for Vancouver, showing a matching one that he kept on a chain on his jeans.

“This is gonna bring you luck, and if you ever miss me, just hold it tight and it’ll feel like I’m there with you,” he’d told you.

When Charlie came to Vancouver, the two of you thought it’d be a good idea for you to move in with him and Owen, a member of the cast he’d become close friends with during the bootcamp they did that summer.

Your mom wasn’t too sure about it at first, but eventually caved and let you go, thinking it might be good practice for when you’d go off to college.

With all of that said and done, you were now a full-fledged member of the Gillespie-Joyner household. The first few weeks were the most fun. You’d stay up all night with the boys, dancing around the living room to whatever song came on or cuddled up on the couch watching movies. Every now and again, even your boyfriend came up to the apartment to hang out with the three of you. Though, the boys being the boys, became overprotective when that occurred.

The first night Thomas came over to hang out with you, Owen and Charlie immediately went into full-protective mode. They started interrogating the seventeen-year-old boy with questions you say an overprotective dad with a shotgun or baseball bat ask in those cliché rom-coms.

“Can you guys not?!” you had asked, chuckling because you thought they were joking about it all. “Let’s just watch this stupid movie while we wait for our pizza.”

During said movie, the two full-grown men kept glaring at the teenagers on the other end of the couch as you were cuddled up together, his arm slung over your shoulder. Charlie had that trademark scowl on his face with his arms crossed while Owen just furrowed his eyebrows, keeping an eye on the two of you.

That occurred pretty much every night since that first day they met. And you could feel Thomas growing more and more fidgety next to you as the nights progressed.

One night when Thomas came over, the four of you decided to cook dinner together since you were pretty bored of constantly ordering food and eating unhealthy. You wanted to get some vegetables inside these boys.

“Watch out, Gillespie, you’re gonna burn yourself,” Owen said to you when you were simply stirring the bolognese sauce you had made from scratch. That was something your grandmother taught you when you were younger. You and Charlie used to cook with her all the time when having sleepovers at her place during nights your parents were out.

“I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be fine, Joyner,” you muttered back, chuckling slightly. Just as the words rolled off your lips, the sauce sputtered and a droplet of hot sauce fell on your hand. You hissed at the burning sensation as you wiped the red off your hand.

“See! I told you!” Owen exclaimed and grabbed your hand, guiding you towards the tap.

“Owen, I’m fine! It was just a tiny drop. I’m not gonna die!” you protested but let him hold your hand underneath the cold running water. The coldness of the water made the burning and stinging feeling vanish and actually felt good.

“You ought to be careful, Gillespie,” Owen muttered, his eyes focused on the water gliding down the back of your hand and down every fingertip in small streams while you watched him. You’d lived here for almost a month, and you’d seen Owen from up close but never this close.

There was something about his smooth jawline, bright green eyes and swoopy blonde hair that you hadn’t noticed before. All of a sudden, the boy you’d seen as a brother for a month now, turned attractive. Very attractive.

No, y/n, focus. Your boyfriend is literally behind you. Calm down. You thought to yourself as you shook out of the trance you found yourself in.

But then Owen glanced up at you and the whole pep-talk went to waste. Especially as the corners of his mouth tugged up into the most beautiful smile you had ever seen.

You coughed before sputtering out, “T-thank you, Owen.” He simply nodded acknowledgingly before turning the tap off and letting you go back to your food with your mind woozy and your heart beating faster. What in the holy hell was that?

Thomas of course noticed the interaction between you and Owen as he was sitting on a stool at the breakfast island, scrolling through his phone with Charlie next to him. The latter had been weighing off the pasta to cook later and didn’t notice anything of what just happened.

“I’m gonna head home,” Thomas said that night straight after dinner. Normally, he’d stay for one more movie before heading home, but after seeing what he saw earlier, he didn’t feel like staying much longer or ever coming back.

You picked up the tone in his voice, and your stomach sank. Something had upset him and you could only guess what it was. Of course he saw. Everyone could probably see. Now it was up to you to show Thomas nothing was actually going on between you and Owen.

“Oh--okay… I’ll see you out,” you said and got up from the chair, halting when Thomas held up his hand and shook his head dismissively.

“I’ll see myself out,” he muttered and made his way out the door without even a goodbye, let alone a kiss goodbye. Your heart sank to your stomach as you felt the storm hanging above your head. This was not going to end well.

“What was that about?” Charlie asked, confused about the boy’s demeanor all of a sudden. You glanced over at Owen, who had his lips pressed together, offering you an apologetic countenance.

You sighed, dropping down in your chair again and rubbing your face with your hands, not even caring about the make-up you’re smudging right now. You were going to lose the best thing that has ever happened to you since moving to Vancouver, besides seeing Charlie again. And all because you couldn’t keep your eyes off an attractive man that stood a few inches too close. There was a storm ahead, and you weren’t prepared for it.

Three days. You didn’t hear Thomas for three days. After sending text after text after text, he still ghosted you. You knew he was going to break up with you soon, but what came next was beyond your expectations.

Your friend Lili called you on the fourth day of radio silence from Thomas. Her voice sounded solemn, almost worried.

“What’s up?” you asked, growing more and more anxious.

A shaky breath sounded from the other side of the line before she spoke again. “Allison told me Thomas showed up at her doorstep last night…” she started. Her voice cracked and so did your heart in anticipation of what was going to follow. “Sweetie, I’m sorry, Thomas cheated on you…”

Tears sprung into your eyes as you grabbed the nearest pillow from the sofa and hugged it tightly to your chest while Lili blabbed on about what she’d heard from Allison. All you could pick up was that Allison felt terrible about it but couldn’t say no to him since he seemed in distress. Laced between her words were your venomous thoughts about how all of this was just your fault. If the thing-which-wasn’t-even-a-thing between you and Owen didn’t happen, Thomas wouldn’t have gone to another girl’s house.

“I am so sorry, y/n. I--Tell me if there’s anything I can do? I’ll--I’ll come over with some ice cream or chocolate if you want and you can just cry?” Lili probably knew you weren’t listening anymore. She was the first friend you had made in Vancouver four years ago, along with Allison. But apparently being friends gives you a get-out-of-jail card to fuck your friend’s boyfriend.

“No, that’s okay, Lils. I just wanna be alone right now…” you whispered, and after you’d said your goodbyes you hung up the phone, dropping the device on the sofa next to you. Your arms tightened around the pillow as tears soaked the fabric and the toxic thoughts haunted your mind on repeat.

The thoughts were so loud, you didn’t even hear the door to the apartment opening and closing. You only noticed someone had walked in when two pairs of arms snaked around your body from each side.

Charlie piped up first, “What happened, cous?” he whispered and pressed a kiss to your hair as his fingers tangled up in your messy hair.

“He-hecheatedonme,” you blurted out in one breath. Both Owen and Charlie halted their movement, glancing up at each to see if both of them heard the same thing. You felt someone shift beside you, the warm feeling of their body pressed to yours turning cold.

“Where does he live?” Owen growled. You looked up at him and sniffled, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your sweater. “Where does he live, y/n?” he repeated sternly.

“No, Owen, please,” you begged, more tears rolling down your face, “Please, don’t. Stay with me. Please.” Owen’s tense expression softened as he slid down next to you again, the warmth returning to your body as he wrapped himself around you once more.

“Just stay,” you whispered as your arms wrapped around Owen’s bicep and your head rested on Charlie’s chest. “It’s my own fault.” Neither of the boys say anything, but they let you babble for a while, holding you and rubbing your back or planting kisses on your head.

Once you had calmed down a little, Charlie began his pep-talk, “None of this is your fault, little one,” he said. “I know something happened between you the last time you were here, but that doesn’t mean you drove him into another girl’s arms. He could’ve come over to talk it out, but instead, he chose to ring another’s doorbell. This is not your fault.” The last words came out just above a whisper before his lips crushed onto your head again. His hand smoothed down your hair, lulling you into a state of calm.

“Char’s right, y/n,” Owen chimed in softly as his fingers trailed up and down her leg. “His decision to do this instead of talk to you is on him. He doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.” Your lips curled up into a small smile while a sob raked through your body, shaking both boys along.

“I love you guys,” you mumbled as you felt your eyes drooping. Crying always made you feel sleepy, especially with the boys’ soothing touches and words. “So much.” And with that, your light went out for the next few hours.

Owen and Charlie eventually fell asleep too as they didn’t want to let you go, and that’s what you woke up to in the middle of the night too. The two boys asleep on either side of you, clutching you in their arms. Though Owen had sunk down with his head in your lap and him clutching your arm against his chest, Charlie had fallen asleep resting his head on yours. A content, warm feeling fell over you while that upsetting, past-breakdown sob shook through your body.

“Boys,” you whispered, waking them up softly. Both twitched, but only Owen shook awake and shot upright. You giggled at his concerned, sleep-drunk expression. “Shall we head to bed?” you asked. The look of confusion that flashed across Owen’s face made you realize that it did sound a bit odd, so you quickly added, “It’s past midnight, I think we better sleep in our own beds than cramped up on the sofa.”

Owen let out an “ah” and nodded his head before punching Charlie in the shoulder. Your cousin looked up with narrowed eyes, ready to growl at whoever woke him.

“Let’s get to bed,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. The boy nodded and got up, grabbing your hand in his and leading you towards your bedroom. He didn’t turn on the lights, but blindly made his way over to the bed and rolled onto it, tugging you with him and cuddling you close to his body. You let out a shriek at the sudden movement until it turned into giggling before sighing contently at the welcome warmth and comfort of your cousin’s arms. There’ve been many nights where you fell asleep cuddling one another on your grandmother’s sofa after having watched your favorite tv-show.

“Joyner, get your ass in here!” Charlie shouted, his voice croaky and thick with sleep. You heard shuffling before the bed dipped, the warmth of Owen’s body radiating into your skin.

This hadn’t occurred yet since you moved in with them a month ago. Falling asleep on the couch, yes, all the time. But never falling asleep in the same bed. It was a welcome, soothing feeling though. No matter how you turned, every side of your body was always toasty. You were the happiest person alive even on darker days like this one. You’d always have these two boys in your life. And that was more than enough for you.

JATP Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon @caitsymichelle13 @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15 @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost

Charlie/Luke Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #julie and the fat ones #jatp #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #alex jatp #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fic #platonic!reader x charlie #platonic!reader #owen x reader #owen joyner fic #platonic!reader x owen #platonic!charlie x owen #platonic!charlie x owen x reader

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michaelbogild · 3 years ago

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Lines by Leonard Cohen

As someone long prepared for the occasion In full command of every plan you wrecked – Do not choose a coward’s explanation that hides behind the cause and the effect

And it's stronger than drink And it's deeper than sorrow This darkness she's left in my heart.

And I'll dance with you in Vienna I'll be wearing a river's disguise The hyacinth wild on my shoulder, My mouth on the dew of your thighs

He wants to write a love song An anthem of forgiving A manual for living With defeat

The birds they sang At the break of day Start again I heard them say Don't dwell on what Has passed away Or what is yet to be.

You never liked to get The letters that I sent. But now you've got the gist Of what my letters meant. You're reading them again, The ones you didn't burn. You press them to your lips, My pages of concern.

I caught the darkness It was drinking from your cup. I said: Is this contagious? You said: Just drink it up

Everybody talking to their pockets Everybody wants a box of chocolates And a long stem rose Everybody knows

A cross on every hill A star, a minaret So many graves to fill O love, aren't you tired yet?

And everybody knows that the Plague is coming Everybody knows that it's moving fast Everybody knows that the naked man and woman Are just a shining artifact of the past

Yeah I missed you since the place got wrecked By the winds of change and the weeds of sex looks like freedom but it feels like death it's something in between, I guess

I walked into this empty church I had no place else to go When the sweetest voice I ever heard, whispered to my soul

I heard the snake was baffled by his sin He shed his scales to find the snake within But born again is born without a skin The poison enters into everything

And summoned now to deal With your invincible defeat, You live your life as if it’s real, A Thousand Kisses Deep.

I’m slowing down the tune I never liked it fast You want to get there soon I want to get there last

When they said REPENT REPENT I wonder what they meant

Her thighs they slipped away from me Like schools of startled fish Though I've forgotten half my life I still remember this

And if no leaves were on the tree And no water in the sea And the break of day had nothing to reveal That's how broken I would be What my life would seem to me If I didn't have your love to make it real

And yes she lied about it all Her children and her husband You were born to judge the world Forgive me but I wasn't

O troubled dust concealing An undivided love The Heart beneath is teaching To the broken Heart above

The pull of the moon, the thrust of the sun And thus the ocean is crossed The waters are blessed while a shadowy guest Kindles a light for the lost

How come you called me here tonight? How come you bother With my heart at all? You raise me up in grace, Then you put me in a place, Where I must fall.

And everybody knows that it's now or never Everybody knows that it's me or you And everybody knows that you live forever Ah when you've done a line or two

It's coming like the tidal flood beneath the lunar sway, imperial, mysterious, in amorous array:

The lights went out behind us The fireflies undressed The broken sidewalk ended I touched her sleeping breasts They opened to me urgently Likelilies from the dead Behind a fine embroidery Her nipples rose like bread Then I took off my necktie And she took off her dress My belt and pistol set aside We tore away the rest

The Maestro says it's Mozart but it sounds like bubble gum when you're waiting for the miracle, for the miracle to come.

The sea so deep and blind The sun, the wild regret The club, the wheel, the mind, O love, aren't you tired yet?

The wounded forms appear: The loss, the full extent; And simple kindness here, The solitude of strength.

If the sun would lose its light And we lived in an endless night And there was nothing left that you could feel If the sea were sand alone And the flowers made of stone And no one that you hurt could ever heal Well that's how broken I would be What my life would seem to me If I didn't have your love to make it real

But you'll be hearing from me baby, long after I'm gone I'll be speaking to you sweetly From a window in the Tower of Song

I said I’d be your lover. You laughed at what I said. I lost my job forever. I was counted with the dead.

It failed my little fire But it's bright the dying spark Go tell the young messiah What happens to the heart

Good night, good night, my fallen star I guess you're right, you always are I know you're right about the blues You live some life you'd never choose

looks like freedom but it feels like death it's something in between, I guess

I've seen you change the water into wine I've seen you change it back to water, too I sit at your table every night I try but I just don't get high with you

The present's not that pleasant Just a lot of things to do I thought the past would last me But the darkness got that too

The splinters that you carry The cross you left behind Come healing of the body Come healing of the mind

I wish there was a treaty we could sign I do not care who takes this bloody hill I'm angry and I'm tired all the time I wish there was a treaty, I wish there was a treaty Between your love and mine

I’m lacing up my shoe But I don’t want to run I’ll get here when I do Don’t need no starting gun

Thanks For The Dance

Ah, they're dancing in the street — it's Jubilee We sold ourselves for love but now we're free I'm so sorry for that ghost I made you be Only one of us was real and that was me

And I'm still working with the wine, still dancing cheek to cheek, the band is playing Auld Lang Syne, but the heart will not retreat.

And maybe I had miles to drive, And promises to keep: You ditch it all to stay alive, A Thousand Kisses Deep.

Baby don’t ignore me We were smokers we were friends Forget that tired story Of betrayal and revenge

So you can stick your little pins in that voodoo doll I'm very sorry, baby, doesn't look like me at all I'm standing by the window where the light is strong Ah they don't let a woman kill you Not in the Tower of Song

Show me the place, help me roll away the stone Show me the place, I can't move this thing alone Show me the place where the word became a man Show me the place where the suffering began

And you're weak and you're harmless and you're sleeping in your harness and the wind going wild in the trees, and it ain't exactly prison but you'll never be forgiven for whatever you've done with the keys.

Steer your heart past the Truth that you believed in yesterday Such as Fundamental Goodness and the Wisdom of the Way Steer your heart, precious heart, past the women whom you bought Year by year, month by month, day by day Thought by thought

Word of words and measure of all measures Blessed is the name, the name be blessed Written on my heart in burning letters That’s all I know, I cannot read the rest

And O my love, I still recall The pleasures that we knew; The rivers and the waterfall, Wherein I bathed with you.

You said how could this happen You said how can this be The chains are gone from heaven The storms are wild and free

I cried for you this morning And I’ll cry for you again But I’m not in charge of sorrow So please don’t ask me when

Both of us say there are laws to obey But frankly I don’t like your tone You want to change the way I make love I want to leave it alone

Behold the gates of mercy In arbitrary space And none of us deserving The cruelty or the grace

Then I came back from where I’d been. My room, it looked the same – But there was nothing left between The Nameless and the Name.

O longing of the branches To lift the little bud O longing of the arteries To purify the blood

I to my side call the meek and the mild You to your side call the Word By virtue of suffering I claim to have won You claim to have never been heard

I know I said I’d meet you, I’d meet you at the store, But I can’t buy it, baby. I can’t buy it anymore.

I was idle with my soul, when I heard that you could use me I followed very closely, but my life remained the same But then you showed me where you had been wounded In every atom broken is the Name

I fled to the edge of the mighty sea of sorrow Pursued by the riders of a cruel and dark regime But the waters parted and my soul crossed over Out of Egypt, out of Pharaoh’s dream

They whisper still, the injured stones The blunted mountains weep As he died to make men holy Let us die to make things cheap

Sounded like the truth Seemed the better way Sounded like the truth But it's not the truth today

Hurt once and for all into silence. A long pain ending without a song to prove it. Who could stand beside you so close to Eden, When you glinted in every eye the held-high razor, shivering every ram and son?

Sleep baby sleep The day’s on the run The wind in the trees Is talking in tongues

And I loved you when our love was blessed and I love you now there's nothing left

There's silt on your ankles and sand on your feet The river too shallow, the ocean too deep You smile at your suffering, the sweetest reprieve Why did you leave us, why did you leave

I saw some people starving There was murder, there was rape Their villages were burning They were trying to escape I couldn't meet their glances I was staring at my shoes It was acid, it was tragic It was almost like the blues

If you want a partner Take my hand Or if you want to strike me down in anger Here I stand, I'm your man

Ah I don't believe you'd like it, You wouldn't like it here. There ain't no entertainment and the judgements are severe.

The opposites falter, the spirals reverse And Eve must re-enter the sleep of her birth

I don't need to be forgiven for loving you so much It's written in the scriptures It's written there in blood I even heard the angels declare it from above

Sometimes I’d head for the highway I’m old and the mirrors don’t lie But crazy has places to hide in That are deeper than any goodbye

If you want a boxer I will step into the ring for you And if you want a doctor I'll examine every inch of you

Yeah we're drinking and we're dancing but there's nothing really happening and the place is dead as Heaven on a Saturday night And my very close companion gets me fumbling gets me laughing she's a hundred but she's wearing something tight and I lift my glass to the Awful Truth which you can't reveal to the Ears of Youth except to say it isn't worth a dime And the whole damn place goes crazy twice and it's once for the devil and once for Christ but the Boss don't like these dizzy heights we're busted in the blinding lights, busted in the blinding lights of CLOSING TIME

I want him to be certain That he doesn't have a burden That he doesn't need a vision That he only has permission To do my instant bidding which is to Say what I have told him to repeat

Though I take my song From a withered limb, Both song and tree, They sing for him.

Everybody knows that the boat is leaking Everybody knows that the captain lied Everybody got this broken feeling Like their father or their dog just died

Ditched on a beach Where the sea hates to go With a child in my arms And a chill in my soul And my heart the shape Of a begging bowl

And she says, Drink deeply, pilgrim but don't forget there's still a woman beneath this resplendent chemise.

You don't need a lawyer I'm not making a claim You don't need to surrender I'm not taking aim I don't need a lover, no, no The wretched beast is tame I don't need a lover So blow out the flame

O gather up the brokenness And bring it to me now The fragrance of those promises You never dared to vow

And I don’t really know who sent me, To raise my voice and say: May the lights in The Land of Plenty Shine on the truth some day.

There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking They've been sentenced to death by the blues

I know the burden’s heavy As you wheel it through the night Some people say it’s empty But that don’t mean it’s light

Ten New Songs

I better hold my tongue I better take my place Lift this glass of blood Try to say the grace

You came to me this morning and you handled me like meat. You’d have to be a man to know how good that feels, how sweet.

A sip of wine, a cigarette, And then it’s time to go. I tidied up the kitchenette; I tuned the old banjo. I’m wanted at the traffic-jam. They’re saving me a seat. I’m what I am, and what I am, Is back on Boogie Street.

Down in the valley the famine goes on The famine up on the hill I say that you shouldn’t, you couldn’t, you can’t You say that you must and you will

So we struggle and we stagger down the snakes and up the ladder to the tower where the blessed hours chime and I swear it happened just like this: a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss the Gates of Love they budged an inch I can't say much has happened since

And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook, With the photographs there, and the moss And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty My cheap violin and my cross

Then she dances so graceful and your heart's hard and hateful and she's naked but that's just a tease. And you turn in disgust from your hatred and from your love and comes to you light as the breeze.

I see the Ghost of Culture With numbers on his wrist Salute some new conclusion Which all of us have missed

I tried to love you my way, But I couldn’t make it hold. So I closed the Book of Longing And I do what I am told.

And up through the system the worlds are withdrawn From every dominion the mind stood upon And now that it's over and now that it's done The name has no number, not even the one

You got me singing Like a prisoner in a jail You got me singing Like my pardon's in the mail

You can add up the parts But you won't have the sum You can strike up the march, There is no drum Every heart, every heart To love will come But like a refugee.

Everybody knows you've been discreet But there were so many people you just had to meet Without your clothes And everybody knows

It's coming from the sorrow in the street, the holy places where the races meet; from the homicidal bitchin' that goes down in every kitchen to determine who will serve and who will eat. From the wells of disappointment where the women kneel to pray for the grace of God in the desert here and the desert far away:

Even though she sleeps upon your satin Even though she wakes you with a kiss Do not say the moment was imagined Do not stoop to strategies like this

I smile when I'm angry I cheat and I lie I do what I have to do To get by But I know what is wrong And I know what is right And I'd die for the truth In My Secret Life

I loved you for your beauty but that doesn't make a fool of me: you were in it for your beauty too and I loved you for your body there's a voice that sounds like God to me declaring, declaring, declaring that your body's really you

O baby I waited so long for your kiss for something to happen, oh something like this.

O let the heavens falter And let the earth proclaim: Come healing of the Altar Come healing of the Name

If you're squeezed for information, that's when you've got to play it dumb: You just say you're out there waiting for the miracle, for the miracle to come.

You put on a uniform To fight the Civil War You looked so good I didn’t care What side you’re fighting for

Did you confuse the Messiah in a mirror and rest because he had finally come? Let me cry Help beside you, Teacher.

It's coming to America first, the cradle of the best and of the worst. It's here they got the range and the machinery for change and it's here they got the spiritual thirst. It's here the family's broken and it's here the lonely say that the heart has got to open in a fundamental way:

I said to Hank Williams: how lonely does it get? Hank Williams hasn't answered yet But I hear him coughing all night long A hundred floors above me In the Tower of Song

Sail on, sail on O mighty Ship of State! To the Shores of Need Past the Reefs of Greed Through the Squalls of Hate Sail on, sail on

Ah the wars they will Be fought again The holy dove She will be caught again Bought and sold And bought again The dove is never free.

I should have seen it coming It was right behind your eyes You were young and it was summer I just had to take a dive Winning you was easy But darkness was the prize

The party’s over But I’ve landed on my feet I’ll be standing on this corner Where there used to be a street

I know you had to lie to me, I know you had to cheat, to pose all hot and high behind the veils of shear deceit, our perfect porn aristocrat so elegant and cheap, I’m old but I’m still into that, A thousand kisses deep.

It’s not a trick, your senses all deceiving A fitful dream, the morning will exhaust – Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost

If you want a lover I'll do anything you ask me to And if you want another kind of love I'll wear a mask for you

It's dark now and it's snowing O my love I must be going, The river has started to freeze. And I'm sick of pretending I'm broken from bending I've lived too long on my knees.

Well I don't know about tomorrow but I know what's coming next I've used up all my questions; I have no answers left

As for the world the job the war I ditched them all to love you more

The story's been written the letter's been sealed You gave me a lily but now it's a field

Your story was so long, The plot was so intense, It took you years to cross The lines of self-defense.

And soon there's sand in every kiss And soon the dawn is ready And soon the night surrenders To a daffodil machete

Waiting for the miracle There's nothing left to do. I haven't been this happy since the end of World War II.

The troubles came I saved what I could save A thread of light, a particle, a wave But there were chains, so I hastened to behave There were chains, so I loved you like a slave

his waltz With its very own breath of brandy and Death Dragging its tail in the sea

They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom For trying to change the system from within I'm coming now, I'm coming to reward them First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin

They oughta give my heart a medal For letting go of you When I turned my back on the devil Turned my back on the angel too

Had to go crazy to love you You who were never the one Whom I chased through the souvenir heartache Her braids and her blouse all undone

Well the mouse ate the crumb Then the cat ate the crust Now they’ve fallen in love They’re talking in tongues

There’s other ways to answer That certainly is true Me, I’m blind with death and anger And that’s no place for you

I'm guided by a signal in the heavens I'm guided by this birthmark on my skin I'm guided by the beauty of our weapons

I was fighting with temptation But I didn't want to win A man like me don't like to see Temptation caving in

I know that I’m forgiven, But I don’t know how I know I don’t trust my inner feelings – Inner feelings come and go.

And sometimes when the night is slow, The wretched and the meek, We gather up our hearts and go, A Thousand Kisses Deep.

I dreamed about you, baby. It was just the other night. Most of you was naked Ah but some of you was light.

I don’t know why I come here, knowing as I do, what you really think of me, what I really think of you.

Had to go crazy to love you Had to let everything fall Had to be people I hated Had to be no one at all

I used to love the rainbow And I used to love the view I loved the early morning I'd pretend that it was new But I caught the darkness baby And I got it worse than you

Traveling light It's au revoir My once so bright, my fallen star I'm running late, they'll close the bar I used to play one mean guitar

I dreamed about you baby You were wearing half your dress I know you have to hate me But could you hate me less?

The night of Santiago And I was passing through So I took her to the river As any man would do

Let's keep it on the level When I walked away from you I turned my back on the devil Turned my back on the angel too

I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed, I’m back on Boogie Street. You lose your grip, and then you slip Into the Masterpiece.

So we'll go no more a-roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright. For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul outwears the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest.

You got me singing Even tho' it all looks grim You got me singing The Hallelujah hymn

I'm aching for you baby I can't pretend I'm not I need to see you naked In your body and your thought

If your heart is torn I don’t wonder why If the night is long Here’s my lullaby

I'm sentimental, if you know what I mean I love the country but I can't stand the scene. And I'm neither left or right I'm just staying home tonight, getting lost in that hopeless little screen.

Now in Vienna there's ten pretty women There's a shoulder where Death comes to cry There's a lobby with nine hundred windows There's a tree where the doves go to die There's a piece that was torn from the morning And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost

Oh I want you, I want you, I want you On a chair with a dead magazine In the cave at the tip of the lily In some hallways where love's never been On a bed where the moon has been sweating In a cry filled with footsteps and sand

And everybody knows that you're in trouble Everybody knows what you've been through From the bloody cross on top of Calvary To the beach of Malibu

Ah you drift into my dreams as if you had the right And you show me how you broke me doing all the little things I really like

I gave her something pretty And I waited till she laughed I wasn't born a gypsy To make a woman sad

There is no God in Heaven And there is no Hell below So says the great professor Of all there is to know But I've had the invitation That a sinner can't refuse And it's almost like salvation It's almost like the blues

The war was lost The treaty signed I was not caught I crossed the line, I had to leave My life behind I dug some graves You'll never findI was not caught Though many tried I live among you Well disguised

Now I'm living in this temple Where they tell you what to do I'm old and I've had to settle On a different point of view

Too late to fix another drink – The lights are going out – I’ll listen to the darkness sing – I know what that’s about.

I loved you when you opened like a lily to the heat, you see I’m just another snowman standing in the rain and sleet, who loved you with his frozen love, his second hand physique, with all he is, and all he was, A thousand kisses deep.

And death is old But it's always new I freeze with fear And I'm there for you

I don't smoke no cigarette I don't drink no alcohol I ain't had much loving yet But that's always been your call Hey I don't miss it baby I got no taste for anything at all

I’ll try to say a little more: Love went on and on Until it reached an open door – Then Love Itself Love Itself was gone.

I said there'd been a flood. I said there's nothing left. I hoped that you would come. I gave you my address.

So I let my heart get frozen To keep away the rot My father says I'm chosen My mother says I'm not

O Crown of Light, O Darkened One, I never thought we’d meet. You kiss my lips, and then it’s done: I’m back on Boogie Street.

Ah, the moon's too bright The chain's too tight The beast won't go to sleep

And he cut my lip And he cut my heart. So I could not drink From the river dark.

O solitude of longing Where love has been confined Come healing of the body Come healing of the mind

My mirrored twin, my next of kin, I’d know you in my sleep and who but you would take me in, a thousand kisses deep.

Suddenly the night has grown colder The god of love preparing to depart Alexandra hoisted on his shoulder They slip between the sentries of the heart

But I'm stubborn as those garbage bags that Time cannot decay, I'm junk but I'm still holding up this little wild bouquet

The autumn moved across your skin, got something in my eye, a light that doesn’t need to live, and doesn’t need to die. A riddle in the book of love, obscure and obsolete, till witnessed here in time and blood, A thousand kisses deep.

There's nobody missing There is no reward Little by little We're cutting the cord We're spending the treasure, oh, no, no That love cannot afford I know you can feel it The sweetness restored

The ponies run, the girls are young, The odds are there to beat. You win a while, and then it’s done – Your little winning streak.

I like to take my time I like to linger as it flies A weekend on your lips A lifetime in your eyes

Then he struck my heart With a deadly force, And he said, ‘This heart: It is not yours.’

Everybody knows that you love me baby Everybody knows that you really do Everybody knows that you've been faithful Ah give or take a night or two

Steer your way past the ruins of the Altar and the Mall Steer your way through the fables of Creation and The Fall Steer your way past the Palaces that rise above the rot Year by year, month by month, day by day Thought by thought

Your crazy fragrance all around Your secrets in my view My lost, my lost was saying found My don't was saying do

Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack a crack in everything That's how the light gets in.

Steer your way through the pain that is far more real than you That's smashed the Cosmic Model, that blinded every view And please don't make me go there, though there be a God or not Year by year, month by month, day by day Thought by thought

You sent me here You sent me there Breaking things I can't repair Making objects Out of thoughts Making more By thinking not

And you who were bewildered by a meaning Whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed – Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost

I see you standing on the other side I don't know how the river got so wide I loved you baby, way back when And all the bridges are burning that we might have crossed But I feel so close to everything that we lost We'll never, we'll never have to lose it again

If you are the dealer, I'm out of the game If you are the healer, it means I'm broken and lame If thine is the glory then mine must be the shame You want it darker We kill the flame

I used to be your favorite drunk Good for one more laugh Then we both ran out of luck Luck was all we ever had

There'll be the breaking of the ancient Western code Your private life will suddenly explode There'll be phantoms There'll be fires on the road And the white man dancing You'll see your woman Hanging upside down Her features covered by her fallen gown And all the lousy little poets Coming round Tryin' to sound like Charlie Manson

Confined to sex, we pressed against The limits of the sea: I saw there were no oceans left For scavengers like me.

I was born like this, I had no choice I was born with the gift of a golden voice And twenty-seven angels from the Great Beyond They tied me to this table right here In the Tower of Song

I’m naked and I’m filthy And both of us are guilty

the fiddler fiddles something so sublime all the women tear their blouses off and the men they dance on the polka-dots and it's partner found, it's partner lost and it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops

I've seen the future, brother: It is murder

Who broke the heart and made it new? Who's moving on, who's kiddin' who?

So I knelt there at the delta, at the alpha and the omega, at the cradle of the river and the seas. And like a blessing come from heaven for something like a second I was healed and my heart was at ease.

And there's a mighty judgment coming, but I may be wrong You see, you hear these funny voices In the Tower of Song

Upheld by the simplicities of pleasure They gain the light, they formlessly entwine And radiant beyond your widest measure They fall among the voices and the wine

When you've fallen on the highway and you're lying in the rain, and they ask you how you're doing of course you'll say you can't complain

You always said we’re equal So let me march with you Just an extra in the sequel To the old red white and blue

She stands before you naked you can see it, you can taste it, and she comes to you light as the breeze. Now you can drink it or you can nurse it, it don't matter how you worship as long as you're down on your knees.

By the rivers dark I wandered on. I lived my life in Babylon. And I did forget My holy song: And I had no strength In Babylon.

All your moves are swift All your turns are tight Let me catch my breath I thought we had all night

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A. It's coming through a crack in the wall; on a visionary flood of alcohol; from the staggering account of the Sermon on the Mount which I don't pretend to understand at all. It's coming from the silence on the dock of the bay, from the brave, the bold, the battered heart of Chevrolet: Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

And let the heavens hear it The penitential hymn Come healing of the spirit Come healing of the limb

There's a lover in the story But the story's still the same There's a lullaby for suffering And a paradox to blame But it's written in the scriptures And it's not some idle claim You want it darker We kill the flame

I was alone on the road, your love was so confusing And all my teachers told me that I had myself to blame But in the grip of sensual illusion A sweet unknowing unified the name

Magnified, sanctified, be thy holy name Vilified, crucified, in the human frame A million candles burning for the help that never came

They're lining up the prisoners And the guards are taking aim I struggled with some demons They were middle class and tame I didn't know I had permission to murder and to maim

So come, my friends, be not afraid. We are so lightly here. It is in love that we are made; In love we disappear.

I see my life In full review It was never me It was always you

We'll be going down so deep the river's going to weep, and the mountain's going to shout Amen!

Show me the place where my head is bendin' low Show me the place where you want your slave to go

I’m tired of choosing desire I been saved by a blessed fatigue The gates of commitment unwired And nobody trying to leave

Yeah my friends are gone and my hair is grey I ache in the places where I used to play And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on I'm just paying my rent every day Oh in the Tower of Song

There's an attic where children are playing Where I've got to lie down with you soon In a dream of Hungarian lanterns In the mist of some sweet afternoon And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow All your sheep and your lilies of snow

We find ourselves on different sides Of a line nobody drew Though it all may be one in the higher eye Down here where we live it is two

I've seen the nations rise and fall I've heard their stories, heard them all But love's the only engine of survival Your servant here, he has been told To say it clear, to say it cold: It's over, it ain't going Any further And now the wheels of heaven stop You feel the devil's riding crop Get ready for the future: It is murder

I've heard the soul unfolds in the chambers of its longing And the bitter liquor sweetens in the hammered cup Ah but all the ladders of the night have fallen Just darkness now, to lift the longing up

Why don’t you come on back to the war, that’s right, get in it, why don’t you come on back to the war, it’s just beginning.

If your life is a leaf that the seasons tear off and condemn they will bind you with love that is graceful and green as a stem.

An Eskimo showed me a movie he’d recently taken of you: the poor man could hardly stop shivering, his lips and his fingers were blue. I suppose that he froze when the wind took your clothes and I guess he just never got warm. But you stand there so nice, in your blizzard of ice, oh please let me come into the storm.

I loved your master perfectly I taught him all that he knew. He was starving in some deep mystery like a man who is sure what is true.

I have begun to long for you, I who have no greed; I have begun to ask for you, I who have no need. You say you’ve gone away from me, but I can feel you when you breathe.

Hungry as an archway through which the troops have passed, I stand in ruins behind you, with your winter clothes, your broken sandal straps.

Well, you tell me that your lover has a broken limb, you say you’re kind of restless now and it’s on account of him.

Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon Show me slowly what I only know the limits of Dance me to the end of love

I tried to leave you, I don’t deny I closed the book on us, at least a hundred times.

And I can’t wait to tell you to your face And I can’t wait for you to take my place You are The Naked Angel In My Heart You are The Woman With Her Legs Apart It’s written on the walls of this hotel You go to heaven once you’ve been to hell

Then let the other selves be wrong, yeah, let them manifest and come till every taste is on the tongue, till love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done

O come with me my little one, we will find that farm and grow us grass and apples there and keep all the animals warm. And if by chance I wake at night and I ask you who I am, O take me to the slaughterhouse, I will wait there with the lamb.

Ah they’re shutting down the factory now Just when all the bills are due And the fields they’re under lock and key Tho’ the rain and the sun come through And springtime starts but then it stops In the name of something new And all the senses rise against this Coming back to you

Like a baby, stillborn, like a beast with his horn I have torn everyone who reached out for me.

We met when we were almost young deep in the green lilac park. You held on to me like I was a crucifix, as we went kneeling through the dark.

And there are no letters in the mailbox, and there are no grapes upon the vine, and there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore, and there are no diamonds in the mine.

I cried, “Oh, Lady Midnight, I fear that you grow old, the stars eat your body and the wind makes you cold

So daily I renew my idle duty I touch her here and there – I know my place I kiss her open mouth and I praise her beauty and people call me traitor to my face

But my darling says “Leonard, just let it go by That old silhouette on the great western sky” So I pick out a tune and they move right along and they’re gone like the smoke and they’re gone like this song

And why are you so quiet now standing there in the doorway? You chose your journey long before you came upon this highway.

But I swear by this song and by all that I have done wrong I will make it all up to thee.

It was deep into his fiery heart he took the dust of Joan of Arc, and then she clearly understood if he was fire, oh then she must be wood.

And Jesus was a sailor When he walked upon the water And he spent a long time watching From his lonely wooden tower And when he knew for certain Only drowning men could see him He said “All men will be sailors then Until the sea shall free them” But he himself was broken Long before the sky would open Forsaken, almost human He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone And you want to travel with him And you want to travel blind And you think maybe you’ll trust him For he’s touched your perfect body with his mind.

Your master took you travelling, well at least that’s what you said. And now do you come back to bring your prisoner wine and bread?

Your pain is no credential here, it’s just the shadow, shadow of my wound.

And here where there is no description Oh here in the moment at hand No sinner need rise up forgiven No victim need limp to the stand

I met a woman long ago her hair the black that black can go, Are you a teacher of the heart? Soft she answered no. I met a girl across the sea, her hair the gold that gold can be, Are you a teacher of the heart? Yes, but not for thee.

Oh bless thee continuous stutter Of the word being made into flesh

The cripple here that you clothe and feed is neither starved nor cold; he does not ask for your company, not at the centre, the centre of the world.

Yes, you who are broken by power, you who are absent all day, you who are kings for the sake of your children’s story, the hand of your beggar is burdened down with money, the hand of your lover is clay.

the patron Saint of envy and the grocer of despair

She used to wear her hair like you except when she was sleeping, and then she’d weave it on a loom of smoke and gold and breathing.

And may the spirit of this song, may it rise up pure and free. May it be a shield for you, a shield against the enemy.

And deep into his fiery heart he took the dust of Joan of Arc, and high above the wedding guests he hung the ashes of her wedding dress.

to wear upon my swollen appetite.“ Well, I’m glad to hear you talk this way, you know I’ve watched you riding every day and something in me yearns to win such a cold and lonesome heroine.

Come over to the window, my little darling, I’d like to try to read your palm. I used to think I was some kind of Gypsy boy before I let you take me home.

Then I took the dust of a long sleepless night and I put it in your little shoe. And then I confess that I tortured the dress that you wore for the world to look through.

And the light came from her body And the night went through her grace All summer long she touched me And I knew her, I knew her Face to face

Let’s meet tomorrow if you choose Upon the shore, beneath the bridge That they are building on some endless river

And I’ve read the Bill of Human Rights And some of it was true But there wasn’t any burden left So I’m laying it on you.”

I listened to your kisses at the door I never heard the world so clear before You ran your bath and you began to sing I felt so good I couldn’t feel a thing

Like a worm on a hook, like a knight from some old fashioned book I have saved all my ribbons for thee.

Now the flames they followed Joan of Arc as she came riding through the dark; no moon to keep her armour bright, no man to get her through this very smoky night.

And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin That the wilderness is gathering All its children back again

And now this woman by your side, well, she’s asleep And there’s nothing you can give her and there’s nothing you want to keep

Just take this longing from my tongue all the lonely things my hands have done. Let me see your beauty broken down like you would do for one your love.

And she shows you where to look Among the garbage and the flowers There are heroes in the seaweed There are children in the morning They are leaning out for love And they will lean that way forever While Suzanne holds the mirror

Ah but if you cannot raise your love To a very high degree, Then you’re just the man I’ve been thinking of – So come and stand with me.

You who wish to conquer pain, you must learn, learn to serve me well.

Why don’t you try to do without him? Why don’t you try to live alone? Do you really need his hands for your passion? Do you really need his heart for your throne?

I left a wife in Tennessee And a baby in Saigon – I risked my life, but not to hear Some country-western song.

I did my best, it wasn’t much I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you And even though it all went wrong I’ll stand before the Lord of Song With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Oh take this longing from my tongue, all the useless things my hands have done, untie for me your hired blue gown, like you would do for one that you love.

I heard of a saint who had loved you, so I studied all night in his school. He taught that the duty of lovers is to tarnish the golden rule. And just when I was sure that his teachings were pure he drowned himself in the pool. His body is gone but back here on the lawn his spirit continues to drool.

It’s like our visit to the moon or to that other star I guess you go for nothing if you really want to go that far.

Well I’ve been where you’re hanging, I think I can see how you’re pinned: When you’re not feeling holy, your loneliness says that you’ve sinned.

I lit a thin green candle, to make you jealous of me. But the room just filled up with mosquitos, they heard that my body was free.

Too early for the rainbow, too early for the dove These are the final days, this is the darkness, this is the flood And there is no man or woman can be touched But you who come between them will be judged

He tried to make a final stand beside the railway track She said, “The art of longing’s over and it’s never coming back.”

The judges said you missed it by a fraction rise up and brace your troops for the attack Ah the dreamers ride against the men of action Oh see the men of action falling back

Now the crickets are singing The vesper bells ringing The cat’s curled asleep in his chair I’ll go down to Bill’s Bar I can make it that far And I’ll see if my friends are still there Yes, and here’s to the few Who forgive what you do And the fewer who don’t even care And the night comes on It’s very calm I want to cross over, I want to go home But she says, Go back, go back to the World

Those who dance, begin to dance Those who weep begin Those who earnestly are lost Are lost and lost again

I asked my father, I said, “Father change my name.” The one I’m using now it’s covered up with fear and filth and cowardice and shame.

Even in your arms I know I’ll never get it right Even when you bend to give me Comfort in the night

And the last time that I saw her she was living with some boy who gives her soul an empty room and gives her body joy.

Your faith was strong but you needed proof You saw her bathing on the roof Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you She tied you to a kitchen chair She broke your throne, and she cut your hair And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Ah, there is no comfort in the covens of the witch, some very clever doctor went and sterilized the bitch, and the only man of energy, yes the revolution’s pride, he trained a hundred women just to kill an unborn child.

Oh, your chains are too dark For the seas you must swim You are smiling at the seaweed But your smile is too grim

And I thank you, I thank you for doing your duty, you keepers of truth, you guardians of beauty. Your vision is right, my vision is wrong, I’m sorry for smudging the air with my song.

But here, right here, between the birthmark and the stain, between the ocean and your open vein, between the snowman and the rain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name.

For now I need your hidden love. I’m cold as a new razor blade. You left when I told you I was curious, I never said that I was brave.

Your letters they all say that you’re beside me now. Then why do I feel alone? I’m standing on a ledge and your fine spider web is fastening my ankle to a stone.

I leave the lady meditating on the very love which I, I do not wish to claim, I journey down the hundred steps, but the street is still the very same.

And I sing this for the captain Whose ship has not been built For the mother in confusion Her cradle still unfilled

Well, I argued all night like so many have before, saying, “Whatever you give me, I seem to need so much more.” Then she pointed at me where I kneeled on her floor, she said, “Don’t try to use me or slyly refuse me, just win me or lose me, it is this that the darkness is for.”

Some girls wander by mistake into the mess that scalpels make. Are you the teachers of my heart? We teach old hearts to break.

And now the infant with his cord is hauled in like a kite, and one eye filled with blueprints, one eye filled with night.

I believe that you heard your master sing when I was sick in bed. I suppose that he told you everything that I keep locked away in my head.

Do you remember all of those pledges That we pledged in the passionate night Ah they’re soiled now, they’re torn at the edges Like moths on a still yellow light No penance serves to renew them No massive transfusions of trust Why not even revenge can undo them So twisted these vows and so crushed

I am the distance you put between all of the moments that we will be.

I choose the rooms that I live in with care, the windows are small and the walls almost bare, there’s only one bed and there’s only one prayer; I listen all night for your step on the stair.

And now I hear your master sing, you kneel for him to come. His body is a golden string that your body is hanging from.

Through windows in the dark The children come, the children go Like arrows with no targets Like shackles made of snow

Like any dealer he was watching for the card That is so high and wild He’ll never need to deal another He was just some Joseph looking for a manger

Where are you, Judy, where are you, Anne? Where are the paths your heroes came? Wondering out loud as the bandage pulls away, was I, was I only limping, was I really lame?

And it’s time for the burden it’s time for the whip Will she walk through the flame Can he shoot from the hip

Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord That David played, and it pleased the Lord But you don’t really care for music, do you? It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth The minor fall, the major lift The baffled king composing Hallelujah

But you’ve used up all your coupons except the one that seems to be written on your wrist along with several thousand dreams.

Maybe I’m still hurting I can’t turn the other cheek But you know that I still love you It’s just that I can’t speak I looked for you in everyone And they called me on that too I lived alone but I was only Coming back to you

And they’re handing down my sentence now And I know what I must do Another mile of silence while I’m Coming back to you

The door is open, you can’t close your shelter You try the handle of the road It opens, do not be afraid It’s you my love, you who are the stranger

I’m on the side that’s always lost Against the side of Heaven I’m on the side of Snake-eyes tossed Against the side of Seven.

But you lost them in your freedom And you need him now, you’re wild Blessed is the memory Of everybody’s child

Then fire, make your body cold, I’m going to give you mine to hold,“ saying this she climbed inside to be his one, to be his only bride.

Now the clasp of this union who fastens it tight? Who snaps it asunder the very next night Some say the rider Some say the mare Or that love’s like the smoke beyond all repair

With one hand on the hexagram and one hand on the girl I balance on a wishing well that all men call the world.

As a falling leaf may rest A moment on the air So your head upon my breast So my hand upon your hair

I’m not asking for mercy Not from the man You just don’t ask for mercy While you’re still on the stand

And many nights endure Without a moon or star So we will endure When one is gone and far

And then leaning on your window sill He’ll say one day you caused his will To weaken with your love and warmth and shelter

The rain falls down on last year’s man An hour has gone by And he has not moved his hand But everything will happen if he only gives the word The lovers will rise up And the mountains touch the ground But the skylight is like skin for a drum I’ll never mend And all the rain falls down amen On the works of last year’s man

You’re faithful to the better man, I’m afraid that he left. So let me judge your love affair in this very room where I have sentenced mine to death.

If I, if I have been untrue I hope you know it was never to you.

Then I saw you naked in the early dawn, oh, I hoped you would be someone new. I reached for you but you were gone, so lady I’m going too.

And there’s nothing to follow There’s nowhere to go She’s gone like the summer gone like the snow

That’s all I can say, baby That’s all I can say It wasn’t for nothing That they put me away I fell with my angel Down the chain of command There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

Lost in the rages of fragrance Lost in the rags of remorse Lost in the waves of a sickness That loosens the high silver nerves

When I am on a pedestal, you did not raise me there. Your laws do not compel me to kneel grotesque and bare. I myself am the pedestal for this ugly hump at which you stare

We are so small between the stars, so large against the sky, and lost among the subway crowds I try to catch your eye.

You met him at some temple, where they take your clothes at the door. He was just a numberless man in a chair who’d just come back from the war.

And when we fell together all our flesh was like a veil That I had to draw aside to see The serpent eat its tail

Some women wait for Jesus, and some women wait for Cain So I hang upon my altar And I hoist my axe again And I take the one who finds me back to where it all began When Jesus was the honeymoon And Cain was just the man

But I lingered on her thighs a fatal moment I kissed her lips as though I thirsted still My falsity had stung me like a hornet The poison sank and it paralysed my will

in city and in forest they smiled like me and you, but now it’s come to distances and both of us must try, your eyes are soft with sorrow, Hey, that’s no way to say goodbye.

Now my heart’s like a blister From doing what I do If the moon has a sister It’s got to be you

And where, where, where is my Gypsy wife tonight I’ve heard all the wild reports, they can’t be right But whose head is this she’s dancing with on the threshing floor Whose darkness deepens in her arms a little more

Do you want to be the ditch around a tower? Do you want to be the moonlight in his cave? Do you want to give your blessing to his power as he goes whistling past his daddy, past his daddy’s grave

If it be your will That a voice be true From this broken hill I will sing to you From this broken hill All your praises they shall ring If it be your will To let me sing

The age of lust is giving birth, and both the parents ask the nurse to tell them fairy tales on both sides of the glass.

But let me ask you one more time, O children of the dusk, All these hunters who are shrieking now oh do they speak for us?

And the vow of compassion That you swore through your teeth When the war began to end And the photographs weep

Goodnight, my darling, I hope you’re satisfied, the bed is kind of narrow, but my arms are open wide. And here’s a man still working for your smile.

Yes you who must leave everything that you cannot control. It begins with your family, but soon it comes around to your soul.

I’m not looking for another as I wander in my time, walk me to the corner, our steps will always rhyme you know my love goes with you as your love stays with me, it’s just the way it changes, like the shoreline and the sea, but let’s not talk of love or chains and things we can’t untie, your eyes are soft with sorrow, Hey, that’s no way to say goodbye.

Do not dress in those rags for me, I know you are not poor; you don’t love me quite so fiercely now when you know that you are not sure, it is your turn, beloved, it is your flesh that I wear.

A war between the odd and the even.

Well I stepped into an avalanche, it covered up my soul; when I am not this hunchback that you see, I sleep beneath the golden hill.

And here, right here, between the dancer and his cane, between the sailboat and the drain, between the newsreel and your tiny pain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name.

I changed my style to silver I changed my clothes to black And where I would surrender Ah now I would attack

She said, "I’m tired of the war, I want the kind of work I had before, a wedding dress or something white to wear upon my swollen appetite.”

Then lay your rose on the fire The fire give up to the sun The sun give over to splendour In the arms of the high holy one

And draw us near And bind us tight All your children here In their rags of light In our rags of light All dressed to kill And end this night If it be your will

I met a man who lost his mind in some lost place I had to find, follow me the wise man said, but he walked behind.

I asked her to hold me, I said, “Lady, unfold me,” but she scorned me and she told me I was dead and I could never return.

Well I lived with a child of snow when I was a soldier, and I fought every man for her until the nights grew colder.

Into this furnace I ask you now to venture…

She took his tavern parliament, his cap, his cocky dance, she mocked his female fashions and his working-class moustache.

Like a bird on the wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir I have tried in my way to be free.

She took his much admired oriental frame of mind and the heart-of-darkness alibi his money hides behind She took his blonde madonna and his monastery wine – “This mental space is occupied and everything is mine.”

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river You can hear the boats go by You can spend the night beside her And you know that she’s half crazy But that’s why you want to be there And she feeds you tea and oranges That come all the way from China And just when you mean to tell her That you have no love to give her Then she gets you on her wavelength And she lets the river answer That you’ve always been her lover And you want to travel with her And you want to travel blind And you know that she will trust you For you’ve touched her perfect body with your mind.

So, now that you’ve decided To follow the sun Like a shadow of birds Or a king on the run

Well, I’ve been waiting, I was sure We’d meet between the trains we’re waiting for I think it’s time to board another Please understand, I never had a secret chart To get me to the heart of this Or any other matter While he talks like this, you don’t know what he’s after When he speaks like this, you don’t know what he’s after

Or she’ll make a break for the high plateau where there’s nothing above and there’s nothing below

The baby’s crying, so you do not go outside, and all your work it’s right before your eyes.

I met a lady, she was playing with her soldiers in the dark Oh one by one she had to tell them That her name was Joan of Arc

And you wrap up his tired face in your hair and he hands you the apple core. Then he touches your lips now so suddenly bare of all the kisses we put on some time before.

I fought in the old revolution on the side of the ghost and the King. Of course I was very young and I thought that we were winning; I can’t pretend I still feel very much like singing as they carry the bodies away.

Oh, you are really such a pretty one. I see you’ve gone and changed your name again. And just when I climbed this whole mountainside, to wash my eyelids in the rain!

Do you need to hold a leash to be a lady?

And who are you?“ she sternly spoke to the one beneath the smoke. "Why, I’m fire,” he replied, “And I love your solitude, I love your pride.

Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove

Just open up your dainty little hand. You know this life is filled with many sweet companions, many satisfying one-night stands.

And come forth from the cloud of unknowing And kiss the cheek of the moon

But climb on your tears and be silent Like a rose on its ladder of thorns

the crumbs of love that you offer me, they’re the crumbs I’ve left behind.

Yes, and here, right here between the moonlight and the lane, between the tunnel and the train, between the victim and his stain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name.

There’s a blaze of light in every word It doesn’t matter which you heard The holy or the broken Hallelujah

There is a war between the ones who say there is a war and the ones who say there isn’t.

Oh sometimes I see her undressing for me, she’s the soft naked lady love meant her to be and she’s moving her body so brave and so free. If I’ve got to remember that’s a fine memory.

O lady with your legs so fine O stranger at your wheel, You are locked into your suffering and your pleasures are the seal.

He said, "I locked you in this body, I meant it as a kind of trial. You can use it for a weapon, or to make some woman smile.”

But the Rose I sickened with a scarlet fever and the Swan I tempted with a sense of shame She said at last I was her finest lover and if she withered I would be to blame

You will never see a man this naked I will never hold a woman this close

And you say you’ve been humbled in love Cut down in your love Forced to kneel in the mud next to me Ah but why so bitterly turn from the one Who kneels there as deeply as thee

I went down to the place Where I knew she lay waiting Under the marble and the snow I said, Mother I’m frightened The thunder and the lightning I’ll never come through this alone She said, I’ll be with you My shawl wrapped around you My hand on your head when you go And the night came on It was very calm I wanted the night to go on and on But she said, Go back, Go back to the World

May Christ have mercy on your soul For making such a joke Amid these hearts that burn like coal And the flesh that rose like smoke.

As the mist leaves no scar On the dark green hill So my body leaves no scar On you and never will

I showed my heart to the doctor: he said I just have to quit. Then he wrote himself a prescription, and your name was mentioned in it! Then he locked himself in a library shelf with the details of our honeymoon, and I hear from the nurse that he’s gotten much worse and his practice is all in a ruin.

And though I wear a uniform I was not born to fight All these wounded boys you lie beside Goodnight, my friends, goodnight

One by one, the guests arrive The guests are coming through The open-hearted many The broken-hearted few And no one knows where the night is going And no one knows why the wine is flowing Oh love I need you

I greet you from the other side Of sorrow and despair With a love so vast and shattered It will reach you everywhere

So you moved away the mountain That the sun rose behind And you said yourself a prayer And laid down with the blind

Your body like a searchlight my poverty revealed, I would like to try your charity until you cry, “Now you must try my greed.” And everything depends upon how near you sleep to me

and I lean from my window sill in this old hotel I chose, yes one hand on my suicide, one hand on the rose.

Ah the silver knives are flashing in the tired old cafe A ghost climbs on the table in a bridal negligee She says, My body is the light, my body is the way” I raise my arm against it all and I catch the bride’s bouquet

Children have takes these pledges They have ferried them out of the past Oh beyond all the graves and the hedges Where love must go hiding at last

It’s hard to hold the hand of anyone Who is reaching for the sky just to surrender

The river is swollen up with rusty cans and the trees are burning in your promised land.

Your father’s gone a-hunting Through the silver and the glass Where only greed can enter But spirit, spirit cannot pass

And all the ladies go moist, and the judge has no choice, a singer must die for the lie in his voice.

and there is no space but there’s left and right and there is no time but there’s day and night

Your father’s gone a-hunting And he’s lost his lucky charm And he’s lost the guardian heart That keeps the hunter from the harm

It’s not the news of burning towns that ruins your mind Like a spool you turn and you turn but it won’t unwind No these wars you did not start, they don’t tear your sleep apart It’s just a man taking what he needs from the store room

True love leaves no traces If you and I are one It’s lost in our embraces Like stars against the sun

And the crickets are breaking his heart with their song as the day caves in and the night is all wrong

Now the courtroom is quiet, but who will confess. Is it true you betrayed us? The answer is Yes. Then read me the list of the crimes that are mine, I will ask for the mercy that you love to decline.

I sang my songs, I told my lies, to lie between your matchless thighs.

Why do you stand by the window Abandoned to beauty and pride The thorn of the night in your bosom The spear of the age in your side

And clenching your fist for the ones like us who are oppressed by the figures of beauty, you fixed yourself, you said, “Well never mind, we are ugly but we have the music.”

Trav'ling lady stay awhile until the night is over. I’m just a station on your way, I know I’m not your lover.

Just take this longing from my tongue, all the useless things my hands have done, let me see your beauty broken down, like you would do for one you love.

Let your mercy spill On all these burning hearts in hell If it be your will To make us well

Oh the world is sweet the world is wide and she’s there where the light and the darkness divide and the steam’s coming off her she’s huge and she’s shy and she steps on the moon when she paws at the sky

And while he talks his dreams to sleep You notice there’s a highway That is curling up like smoke above his shoulder

For the heart with no companion For the soul without a king For the prima ballerina Who cannot dance to anything

You kept right on loving, I went on a fast, now I am too thin and your love is too vast.

I saw her wince, I saw her cry, I saw the glory in her eye. Myself I long for love and light, but must it come so cruel, and oh so bright?

I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm, your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm, yes many loved before us, I know that we are not new, in city and in forest they smiled like me and you

Well you know that I love to live with you, but you make me forget so very much. I forget to pray for the angels and then the angels forget to pray for us.

I know you need your sleep now, I know your life’s been hard. But many men are falling, where you promised to stand guard.

And she comes to his hand but she’s not really tame She longs to be lost he longs for the same

Now I look for her always I’m lost in this calling I’m tied to the threads of some prayer Saying, When will she summon me When will she come to me What must I do to prepare When she bends to my longing Like a willow, like a fountain She stands in the luminous air And the night comes on And it’s very calm I lie in her arms she says, When I’m gone I’ll be yours, yours for a song

Through the days of shame that are coming Through the nights of wild distress Tho’ your promise count for nothing You must keep it nonetheless

Oh the sisters of mercy, they are not departed or gone. They were waiting for me when I thought that I just can’t go on. And they brought me their comfort and later they brought me this song. Oh I hope you run into them, you who’ve been travelling so long.

Dance me to the children who are asking to be born Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn Dance me to the end of love

The walls of this hotel are paper-thin Last night I heard you making love to him The struggle mouth to mouth and limb to limb The grunt of unity when he came in I stood there with my ear against the wall I was not seized by jealousy at all In fact a burden lifted from my soul I heard that love was out of my control

Your standing days are done,“ I cried, “You’ll rally me no more. I don’t even know what side We fought on, or what for.

#Leonard Cohen

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tainted-wine · 4 years ago

Text

Evil Demonic Music

Priest!Reader X Demon!Present Mic

Hizashi has a large and filling feast on every Halloween night. He’s been doing it since before you were born. Yet here you are crashing his party while smelling like fresh meat in a den of wolves. It’s entirely your fault for throwing off his groove.

Disclaimer: Reader is more reminiscent of an action priest in a gothic action movie or anime. There’s little to no accuracy here. Lightning will most likely strike me the next time I venture outside.

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Christian Themes, Possession/Mind Control, Orgy, Public Sex, Sorta Corruption, Downer Ending

🎃👻🎃HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!🎃👻🎃

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Yuuei Club Presents “Dance With The Devil” Halloween Event LIVE Music by Present Mic Costumes Encouraged // Doors Open at 8 p.m.

It looked innocent enough; a graphical poster on the door of a building surrounded by smaller businesses in the outlet. It masked itself well in the daytime with its plain exterior, devoid of any attractive decorations save for the club’s name that glowed in hypnotizing neon when night falls. All of its temptations were contained inside, dormant until it was filled with careless souls seeking unholy pleasures.

You didn’t hate them for it. The temptation to sin is strong. It’s how evil thrives, and the average person lacks the strength to resist. It’s your duty to protect all people, even the faithless, from evil’s many devices.

Like this nightclub.

Party locations like these were an uncommon feeding ground, although now that you think about it, the muddled and vulnerable minds residing within should make for easy meals. The loud and nonsensical “music” and absolute lack of restraint that the people displayed was baffling, but your task is to guard souls, not convert and guide them back to Heaven’s path. One demon in particular, however, favored ‘party animals’ more than any other creature from the vile depths.

“Easy there! You glare at this place any harder and it might combust!”

To the average human, the monster that appears beside you is nothing more than a tall blonde man with an inviting smile, but he can’t hide himself from the blessed and perceptive. Beneath the guise of spice and incense, he reeks of smoke and brimstone.

Hizashi, as he called himself, will never fool you.

“Stay back,” spit nearly flies from how harshly you say the words. You know that he can’t harm you, not while you wear your cross around your neck and calmly hold thoughts of your Lord in your mind. Still, you warn the dangerous fiend to keep his distance.

He obeys and innocently raises his hands. “Hey hey, you know I’m not out to hurt you, and you’re not gonna pull anything with that crafty little weapon there, right?”

No, you weren’t going to take a stab at him with the blade hidden in your holy necklace. You tried it before, an attempt to drive it into his back when he wasn’t looking. His hand caught your wrist at a speed you couldn’t comprehend – you were certain that you didn’t blink, yet you didn’t even see him move at all. His friendly smile didn’t waver, not a hint of anger visible on his face.

“Careful, baby priest! Don’t mean to sound cocky, but I’m way out of your league.” The warning wasn’t in his words, but in the heat of Hell itself that briefly washed over you, a sensation so powerful and real that you feared you were being dragged down that very instant. But the unseen flames died off the second he released your hand, eyes flashing a bloody red before returning to their usual emerald hues.

That was the first and only time you tried to banish him.

“I don’t trust you, but I’m not stupid,” was your answer, making sure not to let your hatred and disgust cloud your mind. He might take hold of that.

It was a satisfactory response, going by his bright beam of a smile. So friendly and inviting.

Months had passed when you finally accepted that he was a demon who genuinely enjoyed living alongside humans. He never spoke ill of your fellow men and commended them for their many ways of enjoying their short lives. Most demons you’ve dealt with favor negative emotions. Fear, sorrow, anger… those cold and bitter feelings attracted hellbeasts like flies to honey.

But this one? He fed on mortals that were as cheerful and carefree as him. All of this still wasn’t enough to convince you that he is truly gentle, however.

Hizashi stayed where he was, staring at his own promotional poster. The urge to leave was almost overwhelming, but you couldn’t let him know how much he unnerved you with just his presence alone. Instead, you shuffle awkwardly and try not to utter prayers of protection. Whether or not that will anger him is something you don’t want to find out.

He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Are you pumped for the best night of the year? Man, Halloween never gets old for me, especially in this day and age. Everyone dancing while dressed like a bunch of monsters...it’s almost like I’m at home! Humans sure know how to party like tomorrow is The Cleansing.”

“Yes, and it’s shameful,” you humor him. “I have no interest in debauchery.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s called having a good time, babe. Put the tome down and loosen up every once in a while.”

Put down the tome?

Loosen up?

Babe?

How dare he make you even entertain the thought of abandoning your teachings. You just know he’s trying to rile you up, to make you lose control. You won’t let him have his way. “I have my good times in moderation, on days when I praise God with my brothers and sisters with a glass of wine. There is discipline in everything, even celebration. Heathens simply get drunk and lose themselves in the madness.”

The demon chuckled as he ran his fingers through long golden locks. Just the beautiful sheen of his hair could probably attract the greedy. “Yep. Times sure do change, don’t they?”

“They don’t just change, they’re desecrated. What was once a day to ward off evil spirits now does the exact opposite. They’re too busy with their consumerism, candy, haunted houses…”

“Oh yeah, those haunted attractions are wild. So many of my buddies gorge themselves there. Free fear for the taking, ya dig?”

Despicable.

“And you don’t?” You test him. He was a conversationalist; a few probing questions won’t bother him, surely.

He withdraws his phone, scrolling through the screen for something. “Come on, you know me by now, don’t you? That sour stuff isn’t for me.”

“Forgive me for still struggling to trust you.” Sarcasm felt too risky, actually. You won’t use it again.

“Heh, no offense taken! You priests know just how cruel we can be sometimes. Mortals learned from the best, after all.”

Your lips twitch. His curve into a more wicked grin.

Every single passerby can’t seem to resist giving you odd looks. You can feel the eyes behind you as people make their way around the shops. Your garb wasn’t that strange; they’re acting like they’ve never seen a person in a robe and wearing several divine artifacts before. They would too if they knew what Hizashi was, who has yet to garner a single look of suspicion.

Ridiculous, his casual getup is actually fooling them. Perhaps the silly villainous mustache wasn’t big enough to give him away.

“Ah, here it is!” You nearly jumped from his voice and how quickly he leaned in, a video playing on his phone. “Just tap on the screen to play it an-”

“I know how to use a phone,” You hiss, taking the device from his hand and shooting him a glance every few seconds in case he tried something.

The video was chaos, an unsteady view of flashing lights and thumping heavy beats. Whoever held it was smack dab in the middle of an energetic crowd that sang and danced like barbaric animals. It was an orgy of overindulgence. Too much drinking with their comically shaped cups and bottles, too much lust in their crude excuse of a dance, and synthetic drums that dragged on for so damn long, even the beat sounded drunk. It’s not the first time you heard the horrid noise; it unfortunately appears to be popular among the masses.

God help these poor souls.

“Last year’s party.” Hizashi’s words cut through your thoughts. “Pretty hype, huh? Nothing gets my listeners goin’ like a hard trap beat!”

Oh? So he’s fully admitting it now? “So you’re calling it what it is, are you? Trapping them with your satanic melodies?”

The confusion on his face was very convincing, but you knew better. “What? No, that’s what the music is called.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “Please, demon. What do you think sounds more believable: A genre of music with such a simplistic and misleading name, or evil tunes that your kind uses to ensnare unassuming mortals that don’t know any better?”

“....um…”

“I thought so.” To think that he’d slip up so easily. He wasn’t as clever as he thought. “Tell me what happened to the people in this video. Are they alive? Or did you drain them until they were nothing more than lifeless husks?”

There was a snicker behind you. Both you and Hizashi turned around to see a young man holding his phone up with an amused smile, giving a little wave after being noticed. “Sorry,” he didn’t sound sorry at all. “I really like your costume, miss. Your acting is awesome, too.” With that, he put away his phone and whatever images he now has of you and continued on his merry way.

Impertinent juveniles.

“Anyway, they’re all fine,” Hizashi said, eyes returning to the door while tapping his feet to a beat you can’t hear. “I know how to feed without causing any serious harm. Even if I do go a little overboard, they’ll just brush it off as having too much to drink.”

“It doesn’t matter how good you are at controlling yourself. You’re an evil entity invading human minds.” It takes every bit of strength to not flinch when he looks at you. Again, there’s no anger – there’s never anger with him – and it makes you all the more uneasy. Maybe a being as ancient and influential as him doesn’t find a novice exorcisor like you worth getting angry or even annoyed over. “Your stench will remain on those people forever, attracting more of your kind to them unless someone like me finds and cleanses them.”

He shrugs and rubs at the back of his neck. “Come on, your boy is doing his best here. What do you want me to do? Starve?” He considers what he just said for a moment before laughing. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. Look, I ain’t leaving the stage, little priest. I’m addicted. The noise, the energy, the way everyone just loses themselves in all of it.”

The way his tongue peeks out to swipe over his upper lip has every hair on your skin sticking up.

“Man, I wish they knew just how sweet their own essence is when they’re caught up in the lights and music. Sweeter than any candy the kids will be bringing home tonight.”

He compares consuming pieces of a soul to children’s treats. “You’re really not helping your case,” you remark.

Another shrug. “C’mon, you say that like I actually have a chance at winning with you! I won’t hurt anyone in there. You have my word.”

You scoffed. “A demon’s word is-”

“Worthless, I know. See what I mean?” He withdrew a ring of keys out of his pocket. “Welp, I think we’ve stood here and stared at the door long enough. I gotta prep for the big night. Thanks for the company!” A few more seconds pass when he finds the right key and opens the entrance to the club.

You didn’t follow him inside. That would be careless.

Now it’s only you observing the building that will soon hold a giant living feast for the hungry monster. After another passing compliment about your “cool and authentic costume”, you figured you’ve stood around long enough. It was time to head home.

And find a way to keep everyone safe.

He was right; you have no way of getting rid of him yourself. That doesn’t mean you’ll stand by while knowing what danger these people will be walking into when night arrives. You’re not afraid to put your life on the line if it means protecting His children from the many evils on earth. When the first step of your plan takes root in your head, you change routes and make your way to the nearest costume shop.

Hizashi won’t be having his fill tonight.

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

8:30 p.m.

You weren’t expecting to encounter two demons tonight.

Well, perhaps that term isn’t appropriate. There is no sort of aura attached to the dark-haired man that you can trace back to the pits of Hell, but he is undoubtedly a creature of evil. One that was birthed from the shadows, living for eternity by lurking in darkness and drinking the blood of any unfortunate mortal that catches his eye.

“I knew it. I knew someone so close to Hizashi couldn’t be human.”

The vampire at the lively club’s entrance didn’t seem fazed by your accusation. He wasn’t even hiding himself. The sly bloodsucker knows that his crimson irises and enlarged fangs will be mistaken for prosthetics. Very convincing prosthetics.

“Nice to see you too,” he deadpans.

You’re getting a little tired of these beasts brushing you off. “So what’s your feeding plan here? Waiting to find an innocent maiden who wishes to see the sinful wonders inside, then take her to the back and drain her dry?”

“Like you?” The smirk doesn’t reveal any teeth, but his predatory eyes are enough to make you step back and grip the cross that still hangs around your neck. Your reaction makes him chuckle darkly before he returns to his regular disinterested self. “I already ate.” That monster. “I’m here because Hizashi thought I’d make for good security.”

“So you intend to drink from anyone that steps out of line?”

“No.”

“Lies. Look here, vampire…”

“My name is Shouta.”

“...You and your friend won’t be preying on these naive humans for much longer. He told me about his trap music, but I won’t let his songs bewitch anyone tonight.”

He stared at you, one eyebrow quirked high up. “Alright...can you give me your hand already? There’s a line growing behind you.”

You look over your shoulder, and there is indeed a line of disgruntled people dressed as various monsters and characters. You have to admit that their costumes look to be of higher quality than the angel outfit you hastily bought in the store’s clearance section. The fuzzy headband for your halo was itchy and your flimsy wings were on the verge of falling off with every sudden movement.

With a glare that messaged him not to try anything, you cautiously extended your arm. He took your hand in his – deathly cold – and wrapped a thin paper tag around your wrist. “Have fun.”

You always hate it when you can’t read their smiles.

The suffocating darkness around him was lifted when you made your way to the same doors you were looking at with so much contempt this morning. Glancing back, you saw others happily complimenting his ‘spooky’ appearance, to which he responded with either a quick thanks or a grunt. None of them seemed to notice his chilling aura or ice-cold touch.

Why must they be so blind to the evils that walk beside them everyday?

When you stepped in, the music nearly blasted you back outside. So loud, but not like the angelic choirs during gospel. You didn’t feel lifted, you just felt bombarded by pure noise. A repetitive tempo made the entire building pulse like a heartbeat. This didn’t sound like the music Hizashi supposedly used to put the crowd under a spell. It just repeated the same forsaken beat over and over again. Perhaps the repetition is meant to ease the victim’s mind and lure them in a false sense of security, then those long rolling beats will come in next, ensnaring them when their guard is down. Clever, but not clever enough.

You passed the lounge and bar area, paying no mind to the lecherous behavior around you. Boisterous laughs, alcohol being carelessly chugged…

“Hey there, angel.” A man dressed as a superhero nearly tripped over his own cape in his attempt to approach you. “You as innocent as you look? I can introduce you to the boUUUURP.” The sudden belch burned your poor eyes with the stinging smell of rum.

Lord have mercy on both you and these savages.

“No thank you,” you said through gritted teeth and brushed past him. The lights and colors are disorienting. Strobe lights, spotlights whizzing across the walls and floor, and vibrant ever-changing shapes on every surface. The intoxicated folk probably welcomed the flashing chaos. When you drink at the church, your sips stay modest and controlled, ensuring to never reach the stage of drunkenness. If you were feeling ‘buzzed’, as they would say, this musical and optical discourse would likely feel pleasant, like entering a world devoid of rules and consequences.

Also known as a world of sin.

A huge mass of bouncing bodies covered the dancefloor, and there on an elevated platform, acting as an advanced musical throne, was the evil orchestrator of the chaos.

And those long curved obsidian horns were most definitely real.

Even as he tampered with the many buttons and dials before him, Hizashi moved as wildly as his prey, too caught up in his own infernal electronic hymns to even notice your presence. Surely your chaste energy sticks out among these wrongdoers like a dove in a pit of serpents.

You need to activate your blessing before he eats. Good thing the vampire didn’t bother to inspect your costume for any natural evil repellents that you happened to be carrying.

Your self-made pockets were filled with sage and rosemary, common herbs used to drive away demons and spirits. You sprinkle them onto the floor as you continue to make your way to the center, where your power will work most efficiently. Hopefully their scent will not be overpowered by the sweaty bodies and breaths laced with alcohol of all kinds.

Pushing through the dancing crowd was an arduous task. The music had since switched to something faster and more aggressive. The hectic sounds in this one was making you miss the boring but calmer tunes from before. You never considered what the sound of a robot vomiting would sound like, but it would probably sound similar to the cacophony of ‘whirs’ and ‘wubs’ that were assaulting your ears.

The mass was pushing and tossing you every which way. The variety of masks and makeup beneath the constant moving lights was rather frightening. Of course, you’ve dealt with plenty of real monsters, but it disturbed you to see your fellow man acting in such a frenzied matter in such a perplexing setting. You can see why Hizashi adored this environment. You couldn’t tell the difference between man and beast.

Straightening your halo, you decide that this spot will fare well enough.

Now it was time to apply holy water around your feet. Just a few drops of the blessed fluid will be enough to protect everyone here.

You close your eyes, ignore the many bodies bumping against you, and pray.

O Lord, protect me from temptation.

The water trickles out before you.

O Lord, forgive those who have been led astray.

“WOOOO SHIT! THIS IS MY JAM!”

The nearby exclamation makes your eyebrow twitch.

For we know that your power is greater than any evil.

The song is deafening, but you keep going.

Grant, O Lord, the protection fro-

Someone violently collides into you, knocking the bottle right out of your hands and rolling away to disappear behind the wall of stomping shoes.

Shit! Forgive my language, Father!

You elbow the fools blocking your way, ignoring the occasional “hey” or “watch it” during your desperate search for the most important tool against evil influences.

You didn’t even finish your prayer. You need to at least do that first, before it’s too late. Clapping your hands together, you shut your eyes again and moved your lips rapidly.

OLordprotectmefromtemptationOLordforgivetosewhohavebeenledastrayforweknowthatyourpowerisgreaterthanany-

“HERE COMES THE DROP!”

The rhythm and bass changed drastically, and with it came a powerful wave of raw exhilaration.

It’s like a force was injecting every positive chemical directly into your bloodstream. The abundance of newfound energy needed to be released, just like the tension that was released from that beat drop.

Your hips are swaying in a way you’ve never moved them before, and you can’t make them stop.

Stop! Stop, please! This is his doing!

“How are my listeners doin’ tonight?!”

The demon’s voice booms through the speakers, seeping into your ears and filling you with so much excitement that you can’t help but cheer with everyone else. Your senses feel simultaneously enhanced and dulled. The humans around you were out of focus, but the diabolical DJ up ahead was so clear, it’s like you were right in front of him. The hunger in his currently red eyes struck fear in you even as you danced.

“Woo, I’m lovin’ this energy! Thanks for coming by this Halloween, ya little monsters! Now...bring this house down!”

Your heart accelerates from the rush and you begin to jump in sync with the possessed crowd. Even the people standing by or sitting at the bars couldn’t resist, joining the growing horde on the dancefloor to jump in unison.

It was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Not a care in the world. No customs, no praise. It didn’t give you that warm feeling of ascension. Instead you just felt...liberated.

No!

Struggling in the demon’s grip, you cleared your thoughts just enough to try to calm yourself and regain control.

Utter a prayer. Hurry. Focus. You need His protection.

‘Baby priest? Is that you?’

That is not the mighty entity you wanted to hear. The voice echoes in your head, impossible to escape. When your eyes open, you see that above the vast sea of faces, Hizashi is staring right at you.

‘I thought the dancefloor smelled a little weird! I was so busy feelin’ the beat that I almost missed you!’ You watched him laugh as he continued to violate your mind. Damn him. Wasn’t possessing you cruel enough? ‘Please, no prayers when I’m about to dig in. That’s gonna leave a bad taste in my mouth. Just keep groovin’ like everyone else!”

Your limbs obeyed without your consent and followed the rhythm. This didn’t even sound like the music you heard in the video. Were you just foolish in thinking that he only used one specific sound to trap his victims?

With another change in the bassline, a heavier weight invaded, reaching right into the depths of your heart and tugging at your very soul. You know that fear will only make you more defenseless, but there was no fighting the terror that overtook you.

Not when a demon was feeding from you.

Your brain clashed with itself. You had to keep fighting, even as he stole a fragment of what your gracious Heavenly Father had gifted you and every human, but the cheerful voices implanted in your mind begged you to stop worrying and just give in already.

There was no stopping your movements or the unending rush that surged as strongly as the music. Only now, as he completely ignored your holy safety measures and tainted your soul as easily as the oblivious heathens surrounding you, did you fully understand just how great the differences in power between him and you were.

‘Whoa...holy shit.’

The breathless moan in your head made you shudder.

‘I haven’t tasted a human as pure as you in ages.’

“Please! You’ve already fed from me!” You scream out loud as the mob revels in the thrilling sensation of having a part of them sucked away. Your voice is drowned out by the music and shouts, yet you know that the horrid fiend can hear you loud and clear. “Just get out of my head!”

The dancing stops.

The music stops.

Everything stops.

It’s relieving to finally let your body rest from the forced celebration. The lights still flash and move in the dead silence. Every single person in all of their costumed glory turns and pins you with a sharp glare. Their eyes were unfocused and glazed over, consciousness elsewhere. Hizashi was in full control of all of them.

The demon himself looked down at you, no longer wearing his usual friendly and carefree smile. He was now showing the more twisted happiness you were used to seeing on his kind.

Crazed and eager to devour.

He spoke into the microphone on his headset, voice low and eerily calm. “Angel, you can’t just give me a sample of a five-star meal and expect me to not want more.”

The dread threatens to make you faint.

“Hey, none of that!” He laughs and switches back to his cheery tone. “I told you the negative emotions aren’t for me. I mean, a lady as sweet as you is gonna taste delicious either way. Why don’t you come on up here?”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to flee from this entire situation that you foolishly believed you were ready for. You thought you could sneak into this age-old creature’s gathering and force him to go hungry for the night.

Cockiness treads horribly close to pride, and pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

You clearly didn’t have a say in the matter, what with your feet moving forward on their own. Every individual in front of you stepped aside to create a clear path from you to Hizashi’s platform. Their eyes never left, heads slowly turning as they watched you slowly climb the steps with legs that trembled from your resistance.

As he stood tall clad in leather behind the large mixer table, you noticed along with his sturdy horns, he also sported a black pointed tail that lazily swayed behind him. And his stench...the foul smell that would often make you crinkle your nose was replaced with a pleasing fragrance, like a sweet and fruity beverage. It was undoubtedly the work of his spell; everything about him has suddenly become tempting.

At this point you were wishing for the music to return so that you couldn’t hear your thunderous heartbeat as you stopped right in front of him. His hellish eyes observed you from head to toe, holding his chin between his fingers before shaking his head and smirking.

“Ya really couldn’t find a better costume?” He snickered as he got closer and fiddled with your cheaply-made gown. You avoided looking directly into his eyes, afraid of falling into the blood-red depths and never finding your way back out. “Or do you priests work on a budget?” He pauses when he notices the contents in your pockets. “Oh?” A hand is shoved inside and pulls out a handful of herbs.

“Aww gross! Sneakin’ herbs into the joint?” He winces from the smell before tossing them aside, leaving them to scatter into the unmoving group below.

How? His reaction should have been much stronger…

“Not that this stuff really works when I’m vibin’ in my element, but I’m hurt! I thought we had some trust!” He pinches your cheek, knowing that you’re unable to pull away. “And I thought you knew that I was way out of your league. You’re gonna need the big guns if you plan on keeping me away from my food.” The breath blowing into your face is abnormally hot.

There’s a layer of something otherworldly hidden in his tone whenever he emphasizes his words, like a filter poorly attempting to cover up a monster’s true guttural voice.

But once again, he switches back to normal, which does nothing to calm you. “But I’m not gonna get mad at some rookie that doesn’t know better, especially one as tasty as you!” Twirling around, he pushes a few buttons on the table that you didn’t even know where to begin to figure out.

“Sorry about the interruption, listeners!” He says to the crowd, cruelly acting like they have any ability to respond. They continue to stare blankly. “I hope you don’t mind if I switch things up a bit. Your boy is gonna be a little preoccupied during the next few tracks.”

The deafening silence is lifted with the start of a new song, and the people suddenly spring back to life, completely unaware of the mindless state they were in. Their only goal was to keep partying.

Your body was moving again as well, this time bobbing gently to the double and triple beats and low frequencies that vibrate through the floor and up your spine.

This...this was the type of melody you feared, and yet it didn’t affect you any more than the other songs. All of them were traps.

The only way you can think of fighting back is by filling your head with songs of praise. Keep your Lord in your thoughts. He will protect you.

“Tsk...angel, that stuff doesn’t work when I, ya know, already ate a piece of you.” His face tightened from hearing just a few seconds of the holy song in your head. “I told you, ya gotta loosen up a bit. You’re already dancing better than I thought you would!”

He paid no attention to his other prey, instead admiring your simple but energetic movements.

Then he began to move as well, shoulders doing a slow shimmy and following each of your steps with his own, moving closer and closer until he was able to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you in.

He’s warm. Not burning or emitting an aura of terrifying darkness. The music suddenly feels softer, easing your fears. Like an intimate embrace.

“There, it’s not so bad, is it?” He says lowly, lips almost touching your face. “Quit thinking about your big daddy for once.”

You want to protest against the disrespectful nickname for your God, but he predicts your reaction and tightens his hold on your spirit.

“You taste so damn incredible right now, don’t mess it up,” he groans and savors you. With every part of you that is consumed, it becomes harder to resist. It would be so easy to just hold onto him and keep swaying like this, rocking back and forth as his hips press against yours, grinding into you.

The unfamiliar sensation startles you, but Hizashi shuts down your panic with a growl. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve forgotten.” he murmurs into your shoulder, breathing deeply to take in your scent. “I’ve been so hooked on the party life that I forgot just how heavenly innocents like you taste. To think that I’d have an actual priest dancing with me, tasting that revelry from such a pure source...pardon my blasphemy, but goddamn.”

You’re swimming through the fiery haze clouding your mind, clawing against it in a desperate search for an opening. But with every beat, the haze thickens and you sink further in.

You couldn’t find the light. No salvation.

More sinful feelings assault you from the friction of his groin against yours, a growing bulge rubbing on your most sacred area. It sends a foreign tingle down there.

“Ooooh, don’t think I can’t feel that, baby” he rasps, holding you so closely in a dance fitting for two lovers. “I can sense everything now that you’ve let me in.”

That angers you enough to find your voice again, just barely. “I didn’t let you in...” You tense from another hard grind. “Foul...beast.”

“Are you sure? You’re giving in pretty easily. It’s nothin’ to feel bad about, I promise. Humans aren’t built to resist life’s basic needs, so I don’t know why the big man in the clouds gets so wound up about it all the time.”

How dare he.

“Damned snake!” You force your hands to beat against him and push him off. “You will not corrupt me with the Devil’s words!”

He’s actually shocked for a moment, even to your own surprise, but he laughs it off. “Geez, my bad! I guess you are pretty persistent. Must be…” He grabs the cross around your neck, ignoring your horrified gasp. “...this.”

With a sharp yank and a pinch at the back of your neck, your one remaining object of holy protection is removed.

And with its loss, his influence completely overpowers you. The clearness of your senses switches on and off.

The music is muffled. It’s too loud.

The roaming lights are blurry. Too bright.

Are you still moving? Or is your body too heavy?

“It stings a bit, but that little thing can’t do much when the wearer’s already under my control.” An unfocused image of the demon tossing your precious necklace over his shoulder, the necklace you’ve held close to you since the day you first stepped into the cathedral and accepted your role as a righteous defender of man.

Your essence is now being stolen so quickly that it makes you shiver. He shouldn’t be taking this much.

“Mmm, I can’t get enough of this,” Teeth that are too sharp brush against your neck, threatening to pierce your skin. “I’m an old guy, ya know. I’ve done a lot of experimenting over the centuries, to see what I’m into.”

There’s a rip, and your gown is being pulled down along with your wings. It only relieves you from the growing heat of your surroundings.

“Y’see, our daddy isn’t a helicopter parent. He brings us into the world and just...lets us decide what to do. So no, my words ain’t the Devil’s words. They’re just mine, honey. I live for myself.”

Tilting your head, he presses his lips against your throat, making your breath hitch. No, your body is sacred. Don’t let him do this to you.

You don’t even know when the music had changed, but you’ve noticed the club was filled with a synthetic ambiance, the colors switching to magenta and cyan.

The party demon is so captivated by you that he doesn’t even acknowledge the change in tune. “I used to stalk the depressed. Wasn’t worth it, they were too bland.” He peppers kisses down to your collarbone. “I tormented scared paranoid folk. Fun, but it loses its flavor fast.”

Your bra is removed to expose your breasts to him and the entire populace within the building. Your heart races, but the synths don’t stop seeping into your ears, the bliss wrestling with your fear.

“Shh, don’t freak out. I’ll make sure everyone forgets everything that happened tonight.” He attempts to reassure you while massaging your newly revealed mounds. “So time went on as I treated my palate to different tastes. Wasn’t long before I realized my favorite vibes were the good ones. Festivals, games, a few buddies hangin’ out,” he lowered himself and flicked your nipple with his tongue. “Or a couple fucking, I ate all of it up. And after a while I decided that I just liked people in general.”

The pleasure felt when your breast is engulfed by the heat of his mouth is shameful. Hizashi moaned at your taste, though you weren’t sure if it was the taste of your flesh or your lust that was exciting him.

“I liked it when humans were having good times, so I figured out how to join in on the fun and damn, how do you guys keep finding new ways to rock out? The prudes keep droning on about how my favorite type of people have lost their way, but I think they’re the ones who found paradise, and they’re not even dead yet!” After nursing on both of your breasts, he rises and grabs your face to turn it toward the crowd. “I mean, just look at how these guys – oh.”

‘Oh’ indeed.

The people were no longer dancing. They were grabbing at each other, at men and women they probably didn’t even know, tearing apart clothes in a vicious urge to fornicate right there on the dancefloor. Some of them were already completely nude. You avert your eyes to stare at your feet instead.

Hizashi cleared his throat. “Whoops. Look what ya made me do, angel. My lust got the best of me!” He held you close while watching the horrid act before him. You’re trying to move your heavy arms to cover your bare body. “No wonder I’m feeling so horny. Think I should make them stop?”

It takes effort to nod your head.

His lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout before going, “Nah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an orgy. I bet this is a first for you.”

Something tickles your hips, your eyes wandering over to see the arrow-like point of his tail curling around your white panties, tugging them down.

Part of you already knows that Hizashi is allowing you to struggle for his own amusement. With all of your protection gone, he can easily stop you from swatting at the flexible limb as it brings your final article of clothing down to your ankles.

Wearing nothing but the small strap around your wrist, you want so badly to curl up and hide yourself. You were completely bare on a stage with a demon quietly taking in your form. The contrasting feelings of anxiety and calm threaten to tear your psyche in half.

“Given how anal you guys are about chastity, I think it’s safe to say no one’s ever touched you before?” The way you tense tells him enough. “Alright alright, relax. I’m gonna make this easy for you.”

‘How? By letting me leave?’ You want to say, but your vocal chords aren’t cooperating.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Well, no. I told ya I know everything goin’ on in that head.” He grabs you by the shoulders and places you right in front of his mixer.

There were many suggestive sounds amongst the pile of writhing bodies before you. It was the most depraved sight that you’ve ever witnessed. These people may have been sinners for their immoral pursuits, but they were still victims of a wicked creature’s influence. You wish you could apologize to all of them for failing to protect them.

Slender fingers massaged your shoulders. “Ain’t it beautiful?” He whispers hotly into your ear. “I’m not that crazy about lust, but I can’t resist when it’s coming from someone like you.”

His aura has you shackled on the spot, unable to move or even tear your eyes away from all of the sex. His voice meshes with the increasingly sensual tunes, both him and the music putting you in a deep trance that leaves every nerve in your body extra sensitive.

You’re gently pushed to lean forward until your hands are supporting yourself on the table. The leather of his clothes pressed against your back is irritating, but easily overshadowed by the hands trailing down your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“One of my favorite hobbies was hunting down faithful maidens like you. All demons love doing it, really. You can’t top raw innocence, it’s always a delicacy. It’s the closest most of us will ever get to fucking an actual angel. I managed to fuck an angel, and lemme tell ya, it’s a once in an eternity experience.”

He reaches your mound. There is still fear and an urge to pray, though it’s drowned out by the electronic harmony and all of the hot sex.

“Now she’s a fallen one that hangs out with me. Pretty little devil’s obsessed with sex now. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll give you a visit in your sleep at midnight.”

His fingers reach your untouched folds, making you gasp. You’ve never felt so much lubrication down there before. Was that normal?

“I was really good at the whole corruption thing, so good that I caught the attention of the big holy boys. They were toughies, gotta hand it to 'em. I decided to lay low after that little showdown. That was all a preeetty long time ago.”

The demon’s voice is background noise as you watch deplorable acts that you didn’t even know existed. One woman was taking a cock into her mouth while another man pounded into her from behind. A new male approached and grabbed her free hand, wrapping her fingers around him and encouraging her to stroke him.

Three men pleasuring themselves with the same woman. They were probably complete strangers.

The repulsive sight makes you wetter.

They sure were having fun.

Hizashi hums at your arousal, sinking a digit into your folds.

“Ah,” you choke on your own voice. His other hand plays with your breast again while you’re being penetrated for the first time. Some sort of flame was growing within you, burning and pleasing at the same time.

“I thought I’ve found my place. Going place to place and bringing in crowds who just want to forget their troubles for a day and groove.”

The finger pushes through your tightly clenched walls, or at least they try to.

“Fuck, relax a bit, babe,” he groans.

You do exactly that, giving him enough leeway to push in and out at a steady pace. You don’t think about the violation, only the strange friction that has no right to feel as good as it does.

“And then you come along,” An unexpected sharp thrust causes his finger to brush against a spot that fills your vision with even more blinding lights. “It’s not like I was after you or anything. You’re a solid negative ten on the threat scale, but ya just wouldn’t leave me alone!” He relentlessly hits the spot again, and again, until you’re crying out and your legs are shaking. “Then you waltz in here and try to ruin my favorite night of the year?

He’s able to hide his anger as he speaks, but fails to keep it from entering his possessed victims. The orgy becomes more violent, all of the people looking no more civil than savages in torn rags as they try to dominate and fuck each other senseless.

It affects you as well, going by how annoyed you’re getting by his rambling. Can’t he just focus on pleasing you?

His finger leaves you too soon, your cunt already missing the brand new sensations. “Sorry, babe,” he says when he releases you and begins to undo his pants. “Normally I’d spend more time warming up, but I gotta join in on the raunchiness now before I go nuts. Just...do me a favor.”

You whined, wiggling your hips and rubbing your ass against his freed cock. He only chuckles at your impatience.

“Slow your roll, I’ll get started as soon as you push that button riiiight there.”

You push one of the many glowing buttons, and stock phrases are shouted out of the speakers.

“No, the one next to it.”

You press it, and another song begins.

Hizashi hums in approval. “I usually do a smooth transition between songs, but…”

A hard impact knocks you forward with the overwhelming feeling of being completely filled all at once. The stretch and pressure has your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

“....Yeah, I just wanted to do that. And-” He yanks the halo off your head and drops it at your feet. “-I always loved the symbolism in that.”

He wastes no time building up. You’re being pounded as hard and consistently as the energetic beat. It should hurt, but the euphoric state of your mind dulls any pain and discomfort.

With the demon inside both your head and your womanhood, there was no saving yourself. Your prayers wouldn’t even be heard through this thick depraved fog.

“Oh fuck yeah,” He growls loudly with his wild thrusts, hands gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise. “I’ve been missing out. So hooked on the party life that I don’t even remember how it feels to eat up a modest little soul like this.”

Was he still devouring you? You can’t even tell, not while you’re trapped in this melodic dreamworld as his cock rams you.

“Ya mind if we do this again sometime?” He angled himself to ensure he was hitting that sweet spot with each rhythmic pump. Despite his aggression, his hips moved with musical purpose. “Not like you’re much of a priest anymore. You’re fuckin’ a demon, sweetheart. I think the pearly gates have closed for you.”

That sounds sad and all, but God does he feel good. The entire moment was feeling like a hallucination. Your world was saturated with fuzzy images and muffled bass as your virgin pussy was ravaged. The tightened heat in your core was growing hotter by the second.

Hizashi just wouldn’t stop talking even as he became short of breath. “Ah, don’t worry, my doors are always open to misfits!” His rhythm falters a bit when you give him an especially tight squeeze. “Ya like that? I can always wipe your memory of tonight along with everyone else’s, and you can head back home. I just don’t think your next visit to the house of God is gonna end well.”

How does he expect you to care with the way he’s plowing into you?

His arms wrap around you in an embrace. “No pressure, angel. You can decide later. For now, just enjoy the show.”

And finally, he shut up and focused on fucking your divine lights out.

With his pelvis flush against your ass, Hizashi humps with newfound vigor, his thrusts rapid yet precise enough to keep stimulating your most sensitive areas.

The blinding stars in your eyes make it impossible to even make out what’s happening in front of you. A shame, because you want to know if you’re being dicked down as good and hard as the whores on the dancefloor.

The demon may not be talking anymore, but he was still being very vocal about his pleasure with feral moans and growls right into your ear.

An extra hard slam forces you to nearly topple onto the controls, hands scrambling to keep you upright and hitting several buttons in the process.

A series of sounds and distortion effects are added to the song.

It unexpectedly riles him up. “Shit, that wasn’t a bad mix, angel. I might have a junior DJ in the making,” he praises.

The tempo changes - different speed and new layers - and Hizashi follows suit by switching his quick bucks into deep thrusts.

The fire inside was close to doing...something. You weren’t sure what it was or what exactly will happen if this lasts any longer, but part of you knows that it’s about to feel very good.

With the head of his dick striking you nice and deep, you quickly learn that you were right.

The explosion of spasms was too pleasurable to even comprehend, each contraction tearing filthy screams from your throat. Hizashi bursts soon afterwards and fills you up with a cry even more lewd than yours.

Just like that, your mind is freed and the weight of his aura is lifted...and you feel gravely tired.

A coldness sweeps over you and saps every ounce of your strength. You find yourself dropping to your knees and falling over as a distant voice expresses genuine worry.

“Oh.......I overfed.” Though it doesn’t sound as panicked as it should.

You don’t want to close your eyes. You fear that something terrible might happen if you do, but your eyelids are quickly becoming too heavy to fight.

“Really sorry, little priest! I didn’t mean to! Look at the bright side - my friends are gonna love ya down there! Home isn’t half as bad as those books make it out to be!”

Each word sounds fainter than the last, but you still catch each one.

Home?

Your eyes shut.

And the remains of your soul become stained with ash and black before heading downwards into the demonic realm.

Welcome home.

#smut #present mic #yamada hizashi #present mic x reader #broke: EDM is soulless #woke: EDM steals souls #tw noncon #tw death #tw mind control

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

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Ice Cream and a Baby (Pregnant!Emily x Reader)

Request: pregnant sonnett and goes into labor prematurely while reader is at camp and reader rushes to be with sonnett

Author’s Note: So I have to thank @literaryhedgehog for helping me out with this one! I hope you enjoy! Hit me up with comments, requests or if you just wanna say HI!

You groaned settling onto the wooden bench. You were freaking exhausted. Between your wife Emily’s 2 am pregnancy cravings and Vlatko’s new workout routine, you were 99% sure that the universe was trying to kill you. You just hoped that in a month when your little tater tot was born, things would settle down a little bit.

Lindsey settled on the bench next to you, giving your shoulder a comforting pat, and trying not to laugh at your obvious exhaustion. While you were usually pretty good at corralling her best friend, the past 8 months of negotiating with Emily’s hormones was wearing down your resolve to say no.

You groaned as your phone began to ring in your bag and you slumped down, digging through the messy duffle in an attempt to find the offending device. If this was another stupid craving call, you didn’t know what you would do.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” You answered the device when you found it, biting your lip.

“It’s an emergency.” Your wife’s voice sounded panicked through the phone, and you kept to your feet despite your legs feeling like Jello.

“What’s happening, are you hurt? Do I need the baby bag?” You asked frantically, searching for your regular shoes in the bag.

“No, it’s worse. We’re out of ice cream but I can’t go to the store. Can you grab some for me?” She asked, her voice muffled slightly by what you assumed was a spoon in her mouth. You froze, your eyebrows furrowing as you settled back into the bench, rubbing your eyes.

“Em, I can’t miss another practice. Mark will kill me.” You tried to reason. Ever since Emily had to stop practicing with the thorns, it seemed that every time you were at practice, she needed something. Mark had even threatened to bench you for your repeated attendance infractions. He understood that your wife needed you, but some of the reasons you left were kind of ridiculous. Emily was pregnant, not helpless.

“Mark will understand that your pregnant wife needs you right now!” She growled through the phone.

“Why can’t you pick it up yourself babe? We live like two blocks from the supermarket that has the Ben and Jerry’s you like,” you sighed, resting your forehead in your hand. Lindsey patted your back sympathetically, smirking at your predicament. You sent her a glare. There was nothing funny about this. It was a lose-lose situation for you. If you left, Mark would be pissed, and if you didn’t then Emily would be pissed. When did your career and the love of your life become mutually exclusive?

“My stomach hurts and I need you to get up off your ass and get me my ice cream,” She growled through the phone, and you could practically see her stomping her foot in your mind's eye.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head slightly. God, you loved this very silly woman. “You know, maybe the three pints of ice cream that were in the fridge yesterday have something do with your stomach pain.” You snarked back.

“That’s just mean and I’m pretty sure that the stomach pain is more to do with the contractions. But I need ice cream now!” She whined and your eyes widened, the phone nearly slipping through your fingers in shock.

“CONTRACTIONS?” You yelled, clutching the phone tighter, as Lindsey straightened beside you, elbowing Tobin. The entire locker room went silent.

“Yes, that’s what I just said. Fuck fuck son of a … alright, it’s gone. Now the ice cream, I don’t want any of that low sugar crap you tried to sneak in last time. Here. I want the-'' She winced over the phone. Lindsey rubbed your back as your face contorted in pain, and you attempted to get your breathing under control. You had to be calm, or else you wouldn’t be able to get any information out of Emily, and then she would freak out and that would be bad.

“Em baby, back up. Did you time the contraction,” you said softly, rubbing your eyes with your hand and resting your forehead in your palm.

“Not actively, but they’re about 7 minutes apart, why?” She mumbled worriedly into the phone. And you took a deep breath. 7 minutes apart wasn’t too bad, it meant you still had time to get to her and then to the hospital. You hurriedly began to put your shoes on, pinning the phone to your ear with your shoulder.

“How many seconds did it last?” You asked quietly into the phone, gesturing for Lindsey to throw your cleats into your bag.

“This isn’t important, what’s important is that you get me the right flavor of my Ben and Jerry’s,” Emily huffed, annoyed that you kept trying to change the subject. It was too early for the baby to come, so what mattered was that you got her the ice cream she wanted. Hadn’t you ever heard the saying happy wife happy life?

“Just… humor me, please?” You pleaded into the phone, pulling on your Thorns Jacket. You needed to know just how many speed laws you had to break to get to your wife in time. You just hoped it was less than 20 seconds.

“You know I love it when you beg,” She moaned into the phone, her voice dropping an octave, and you rolled your eyes. This was not the time for sexy things (Emily had been insatiable for nearly her entire pregnancy).

“Not the time Em,” you grumbled.

She sobered after your serious tone. If this was important to you, then it was important to her. “Do you want me to put you on speaker so you can time the next one?” She asked you softly.

“Yes, is it coming already?” You murmured back, putting your phone on speaker so you could time it.

“Yes,” She said through gritted teeth and you started the time. You encouraged her as much as you could, standing frozen in the middle of the locker room, watching the seconds tick by. You heard her breath a sigh of relief at 40 seconds, and you knew it was over.

Your eyes were wide as you stared at the phone, stuck in a trance.

“Holy shit,” You said breathlessly, you were about to be a mother. Tobin snapped a finger in front of your face, pulling you out of your daze, and handing you your car keys. Now was not the time for an existential crisis.

“When did you notice you were having contractions?” You questioned as you waved at the girls (who gave you various thumbs-ups) as you rushed out of the locker room.

“A couple of hours ago, but I thought it was Braxton Hicks or whatever. The baby’s still not due for another six weeks,” She shrugged, a worried edge taking over her tone. You raced to the car, settling in and thanking god that you had Bluetooth so you didn’t have to hang up.

She heard the door close and the car start in the background, and your heavy breathing.

“Has anything else happened,” You urged, revving the engine.

“Well…” She said hesitantly, and you felt yourself pressing the pedal down harder, to get to her faster.

“Emily,” You scolded sternly, almost like you were talking to a child. You could practically see her biting her lip.

“I’m pretty sure my water just broke,” She hummed guiltily, and had you not been driving, you’re fairly certain that you would have headbutted the steaming wheel.

“Pretty sure?” You quirked your eyebrow up. Who could one not know if their water broke? God, you need to get to her before your little superstar decided she didn’t want to wait anymore.

“You know this kid has been playing soccer on my bladder for the last 3 months,” Emily rolled her eyes at you. You were the panicky one during the pregnancy, which was ridiculous considering she was the one growing the tiny human. The tiny human who couldn’t seem to sit still.

“I know babe, I’m almost there,” Your voice was suddenly calm as you shoved your feelings down -- you needed to be the level headed one, because you were sure that panic would only make the labor go faster, and you didn’t want that.

“Make sure you bring the ice cream,” Emily demanded something that sounded like a spoon clinking in the background.

“Emily Anne Sonnett-y/n, you’re in active labor, I’m not stopping to get you ice cream,” You growled sternly. You were racing to not miss welcoming your daughter into the world, the last thing that the three of you needed was for you to miss her birth because You had to stop for an unnecessary frozen treat.

“Y/n” She hissed sternly and you winced at the tone. But you had to remain firm. You were about to become a mother and there were too many things that could go wrong if you waited to get to her for too long.

“If you have to have a C-section you’re not supposed to eat,” You tried to reason, stepping in the gas and trying to your very crazy wife faster.

“If you want to be alive for the birth of your child, you will show up with 3 pints of the good ice cream,” She retorted, and you sighed as you turned into the store parking lot down the road from your house. This woman was going to be the death of you.

****

You stood in the hospital room with a little pink bundle cuddled up in your arms. A little pink bundle that was only an hour old, and holding onto your finger like her little life depended on it.

Your eyes traced her perfect nose and rosy cheeks that reminded you so much of Emily.

Camren Elizabeth Sonnett-y/n had come into the world screaming merely two hours after Emily had called you with her ice cream emergency. And she had immediately stolen your heart just like her mommy had.

“You’re so beautiful, yes you are. Your Mommy did such a good job,” You whispered, placing a very careful kiss on your daughter's forehead, taking in her baby scent.

“She gets all her good looks from you,” Emily said through a mouthful of Ben and Jerry’s brownie batter core ice cream.

You sent her an indulgent smile, winking at her. “Hmm, that’s debatable,” you mumbled, returning your attention to your daughter who had let out a little squeak when she realized you weren’t paying attention to her. You cooed down at her, your eyes shining with the amount of love you had for this tiny being.

“See this moment would have sucked without ice cream,” Emily laughed and you sent her a withering look. Her stupid ice cream had made you break about a dozen traffic laws and almost made you have to deliver your baby in the back seat of your car.

“Whatever you say, babe,” You rolled your eyes good-naturedly at your wife, brushing your fingers across your daughter’s puffy cheeks.

“Hey ladies, I believe there are some very excited aunts out here,” The doctor interrupted, knocking on the door. You were fairly surprised that the doctors and nursing staff had kept them at bay for as long as they did. You sent a concerned look to your wife. She was the one who had just pushed a tiny human out of her body, so she was the one who got to decide if you were accepting visitors. She nodded in your direction, and you in turn nodded to the doctor.

“Send in the crazies,”

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #emily sonnett x reader #emily sonnett imagine #literalhedgehog

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mybg3notebook · 4 years ago

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Lore: Well-known Characters in Faerûn

Here I'm going to explain some interesting characters worth knowing in detail that some groups in the fandom keep saying are Gale's true identity.

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were written up to the game version v4.1.104.3536 (Early access). As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information. Written in June 2021.

Additional disclaimers about meta-knowledge and interpretations in this (post)while disclaimers about Context and the popularisation and misuses of professional words in "Context, persuasion, and manipulation".

Azuth

He is the Patron of Wizards, his personal preference is toward wizardry rather than sorcery, and his philosophy fits better with the studious life of a wizard than the more haphazard practices of a sorcerer. Wizards invoke Azuth when they scribe scrolls, inscribe magic circles, attempt to memorise spells, and even when they cast spells. Often this acknowledgement comes in the form of silently forming Azuth's holy symbol, pointing the index finger of the left hand to the sky.For many wizards, the gesture is so commonplace in their lives that it becomes an unconscious habit. Azuth is represented at such sites as a hooded and bearded figure with his left hand held high, finger pointed up. Sometimes he is represented by merely the hand.

When he was a mortal, he was a wizard who showed prowess with spells and magical lore that attracted Mystryl’s attention, and after completing several quests to prove his worth, she named him Magister (old title in 1e and 2e, different to Chosen, related to a more bureaucratic role of Magic). With the new title, he taught magic to many people across Faerûn.

Azuth came into conflict with a minor southern deity: Savras the All-Seeing. Both were powerful spellcasters and Mystryl favoured both. They began a battle that lasted several years, using agents, magic traps, and personal spell-battles. Azuth managed to defeat the young deity and imprison him. With this victory Azuth ascended to godhood, became Mystryl's lover, and pledged to serve her.

During the Spellplague, Azuth fell to the Hells and Asmodeus consumed his divine spark to achieve godhood. It was thought that this had destroyed Azuth, but instead he ended up inhabiting Asmodeus' body together. Most of the time Asmodeus had control over the dormant Azuth. In 1486, Azuth managed to have a Cormyrian war wizard as a Chosen, and began to struggle with Asmodeus for dominion over their shared body. As a consequence, the hierarchy of the Nine Hells is jeopardized due to the unbalanced Asmodeus. After a while, The Chosen of Azuth sacrifices his life to be a vessel for the god and let him escape from the Hells. After the Second Sundering, Azuth returned to the faerunian pantheon.

Where is he in 1492?

Now, he has returned to the Faerunian pantheon, and considering Ao's ban, he can't be walking around Faerûn.

Can Gale be Azuth? I certainly can't see it. Azuth has been trapped in the Hells for most of Gale's life, returning to the pantheon recently. And we can't forget Ao's ban of direct contact: no god can have direct contact with mortals anymore, with the strange exception of Mystra (see the post about "Mystra and her Chosen ones" for more details). Besides, if Gale were to be Azuth's avatar, we are usually talking about characters over lvl 40.

The only link we can agree with Gale is that Azuth also has storm motif concepts in his design. Gale tends to explain with his pointing finger extended, but as it's said in the lore books, this is basically an unconscious common body language in most wizards. I cannot see any resemblance to make us infer “Gale is Azuth”.

What we can see by reading Azuth's story is why the Hells are so convoluted at this point. The blood war is unbalanced, since powerful figures such as Asmodeus had been having weak periods of leadership due to the inner fight with Azuth in his own body. For this detail alone, it is so important to give context to BG3 I considered worthy to mention.

Sources: 3e : Magic of Faerûn 5e: Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide, Novels: Fire in the Blood. The devil you Know

Myrkul

Myrkul had a cold, malignant intelligence, and spoke in a high whisper. He was always alert, never slept, and was never surprised. He was never known to lose his temper or be anything other than coldly amused when a mortal succeeded in avoiding his directives or chosen fates. His influence in Faerûn was imposed through fear, and he was a master of making mortals terrified of him through his words and deeds. He was the one deity that almost all human mortals could picture clearly.

As a mortal, Myrkul's full name and title is said to have been Myrkul Bey al-Kursi. He was a powerful adventuring necromancer who travelled with Bane and Bhaal in order to acquire divinity for themselves. In -375 DR, they slayed one of the Seven Lost Gods, gaining a bit of divine power. Using it to go further, they embarked to Jergal's realm with the intention to slay him as well.

However, Jergal—tired of his godhood—freely agreed to hand over his dominion of the underworld. As the three could not decide who among them would sit upon the throne of the dead, they left the decision to chance with a game. More details and stories of several deaths and coming backs can be briefly read in the wiki. It makes no sense to add them here since they provide nothing interesting related to Gale.

Most of Myrkul's “recent” story can be seen/read in the game Neverwinter Nights 2, the Mask of the Betrayer. The game explains how Myrkul created the Wall of the Faithless (non existent anymore in 5e and nobody knows how it was destroyed) where the souls of the faithless or those abandoned by their gods got stuck in eternal pain. The main goal of the Wall was to use all that energy to feed Myrkul. The main character of Neverwinter 2 can visit the agonising God in the Astral Plane and kill him or leave him in a slow death.

Myrkul, with Bane and Bhaal, tried to seize the Tablets of Fate from the overgod Ao and use them to rule over Faerûn and its gods. They failed and were slain during the Time of Troubles. Since then, a variety of contingency plans they had in place allowed them to be reborn afterwards.

A small group of followers across Faerûn kept Myrkul's worshipping alive despite the dire events of the Spellplague and the Second Sundering. In the 1400’s, he is considered to have returned with the three dead in a quasi-deity condition.

While the Sundering forced the other gods to withdraw their direct influence from the mortal world, the Dead Three remained behind in mortal form as quasi-divine beings. While their power has diminished, they remain a formidable trio and play a malevolent role in influencing events on Faerûn.

Where is he in 1492?

He is clearly somewhere in Faerûn, with Bhaal and Bane most probably (we have strong leads to assume that the Absolute is them, getting as many worshippers as they can to recover their deity status, since now they are only quasi-deities)

Can Gale be Myrkul? I honestly can't see anything that we can use to link him to Myrkul without making it look like an absurdity. The easiest argument to revoke that nonsense is that Gale clearly is not a quasi-deity.

A quasi-deity is immune to every attempt to tamper with their mind (which would nullify the tadpole effect, and would make Gale immune to any tadpole intrusion, which is not the case as we saw in the post of "The Tadpole"). A quasi-deity is also immune to sap its vitality, or to force it into a different form. It has a strong defence against magic and a limited defence against heat. Weapons not enchanted with magic of an epic scope could not hurt a quasi-deity without problems. These defences against magic, heat, and non-magical physical attacks grew stronger as a deity rose in rank. It is crystal clear that none of this applies to Gale, the squishy wizard of the group.

This comparison is nonsense, especially if we think that some people supported it because “Gale's robes have clasps in the shape of triangles”, which was considered an incomplete symbol of Myrkul. So... I really won't waste time in this comparison. I just did it because I wanted to offer a summary to compare Myrkul (the three dead more precisely) with The Absolute. This idea is very strong when we think that in 5e DM book is explaining that a quasi-deity can recover their godhood condition if they amassed a sufficiently high number of followers (which is what The Absolute is doing). But this should be done in another post related to the Absolute.

Source: 2e: Faith and pantheon, 5e: Descent to Avernus, Dungeon Master's guide

Karsus

Karsus was born in Netheril in -696 DR. He was able to cast his first spell at the age of two, and by the age of twenty-two created his own floating city. He also founded a magic school encouraging radical thinking to keep pushing magical discoveries. A seer warned Karsus that soon Mystryl would face the greatest challenge of her divine life, so worried about the consequences of this, Karsus created his spell Karsus' Avatar with the objective to protect the Netheril civilization. This spell would steal the power of a deity and transfer it to him, giving him divine power to protect his people from Mystryl's challenge and destroy the magical aberrations that had been attacking Netheril (phaerimms) for years. He was very aware that the feat could cost him his life, but he accepted it as a worthy sacrifice to protect his people as well as remain in the History as an iconic figure.

In -339 DR, Karsus chose Mystryl, the goddess of magic, as his target, feeling that she was the most powerful deity and the most appropriate choice for his purposes. However, this was a mistake. The responsibilities of the deity of magic are to regulate the flow of magic to and from all beings, spells, and magic items in the world. Unable to fulfil Mystryl's function with the Weave, Karsus causes a surge of magic and violent fluctuations.

In an attempt to save the Weave, Mystryl sacrificed herself to block Karsus's access to the Weave, causing all magic to cease for several minutes. The flying cities of Netheril (fuelled by magic) fell to the ground. The severing of the link also killed Karsus, who turned into stone and fell to the ground, seeing his entire civilisation being destroyed because of his actions. This is known as Karsus's Folly.

The stone form of Karsus eventually landed in a part of the High Forest, now called the Dire Wood. Karsus was never accepted as a petitioner by any god, nor did he go to the Fugue Plane when he died. Instead, his soul was bound to the Material Plane. Those with experience in pact magic could call up his vestige, where he appeared as a giant blood-red boulder, like the one found in the High Forest where his petrified form landed. Blood burbles up from the top of the stone, trickling down the side facing the summoner, pooling at the base. Karsus granted the summoner a boost in magical ability, though he also imparted some of the arrogance he was renowned for.

Where is he in 1492?

Even in death, Karsus' undying spirit persists in the chaotic magic of the Dire Wood. His essence is ensnared in a single point of time by the magic of the lich Wulgreth, and it manifests in three separate pieces. Each manifestation contains one portion of Karsus' tripartite spirit. It is believed that Karsus cannot depart from the Realms until his sundered spirit is reforged into one.

Karsus' mortal body survives as a tall butte of red stone embedded in the ground and eroded by the elements. This manifestation radiates heavy magic (read the post about the "Orb" for more details)

Karsus' gigantic, ever bleeding heart beats within the butte itself. This manifestation is essentially powerless, but it cannot be destroyed. Karsus' heart continuously radiates an enchantment similar to the sadness effect produced by the 4th level wizard spell Emotion.

The final third piece is inside an animated golem created by Wulgreth. This manifestation bleeds an ever-flowing stream of blood like liquid which mingles with the Heartblood River, giving it its characteristic colour.

So, can Gale be Karsus? Hardly. Karsus' spirit is not even complete. One could ask if Gale is a part of Karsus? I don't see it either: each of these parts are stuck in the different stones across the Dire Wood, and since it was a lich who made the binding I see little reason to suspect how a piece of Karsus' spirit stuck in the middle of the continent reached a baby in Waterdeep.

Sources: 2e: Magic of Faerun, Powers and Pantheons 3e: Lords of Darkness

Elminster

Elminster was born in 212 DR, son of a prince of Athalantar. His parents were killed by mages and at the age of 12 he became a brigand and thief. With a friend thief, Elminster committed many acts of thievery together and lived life fully, creating the gang the Velvet Hands after a number of adventures.

Elminster tried to desecrate a temple of Mystra as a gesture of vengeance for the goddess having not defended his parents when they were killed by mages. Mystra appeared before him, and despite Elminster's defiance, she offered him the power to take revenge for his dead parents. Elminster accepted, and Mystra turned him into a woman to see “the world with female eyes” and to strengthen his bond with magic before being a proper Chosen. This transformation also helped Elminster to pass unnoticed among his enemies. He spent a long time learning magic in this shape, taught by Mystra's avatar in disguise. When her disguise was uncovered, she and Elminster slept together and she offered him to become her Chosen. By that time, Elminster accepted any command from the Goddess, his defiance was completely gone.

In 241DR he travelled to the city of Cormanthor and continued his magical studies.

Somewhere around the mid–7th century DR, Elminster entered a tomb and became trapped there in stasis for roughly a century. He emerged from the dusty tomb in 759 DR. By that time Magic was unreliable (Mystra was possessing Elué's body to conceive her daughters). The god Azuth told him that he couldn't rely on Mystra or magic for aid. Soon he had to learn how to survive without magic. He later underwent further magical training under the tutelage of a wicked sorceress who sought to tempt him away from Mystra's path. During a fake ritual for Bane, she revealed herself to be the goddess Mystra herself, once again testing him.

In 767 DR, Elminster became a foster parent to three other of Mystra's Chosen: Laeral Silverhand, Storm Silverhand, and Dove Falconhand.

In 851 DR, Elminster mentored the newly-appointed Chosen of Mystra, Sammaster, in how to use his new powers.

During the Harpstar Wars in 1222 DR, Elminster defeated the Zulkir of Necromancy, Szass Tam, and earned himself (and the Harpers) the enmity of Thay.

In 1358 DR, just before the Time of Troubles, Mystra gained some foreknowledge and backed up her power into Midnight, the human wizard, so it would not be lost. During this time, Elminster, like most wizards who received his power from Mystra/the Weave, was left powerless once more.

In 1371 DR, the new Mystra stripped away many of Elminster's memories of her former incarnation's secrets. By the end of that year, he was called to Blackstaff Tower to discuss the phaerimm attack. The whole event ended up being related to a planificated attack from the Shadovars. Since shadovar were living shadow magic, and silver fire was raw magic, the collision between the two tore at the fabric of reality, creating a rift to the Nine Hells. Elminster realized that the only way to close the portal before legions of devils spilled forth into Toril was to close it from the other side. He did it, being trapped on the other side and at the expense of much of his magical strength.

Once in Hell, he was abducted and enslaved by an outcast archdevil known as Nergal, who wished to discover the secret of Mystra's silver fire. Elminster was subject to brutal tortures, surviving only because of his exceptional endurance and ability to heal himself with silver fire. Mystra tried to save him herself, but ended up sending several Chosen ones instead. Only The Simbul was successful in his rescue.

In 1373 DR, Elminster discovered a daughter he had never known, conceived against his will with a dragon thanks to Mystra's intervention.

Following the death of Mystra in 1385 DR and the collapse of the Weave during the Spellplague, Elminster was stripped of many of his abilities as one of the Chosen, though he still aged as slowly as he had for the previous millennium and was still quite powerful magically. However, every use of his magic drove him insane. When this happened, only Storm was able to bring his mind back, giving off her own essence to soothe Elminster's mind. Despite these setbacks, Elminster and Storm continued with their campaign to save Faerûn, battling evil and fixing the Weave where they could.

In 1479 DR, Elminster sought to gain access to artifacts known to contain the spirits of the Nine—objects powerful enough to permanently restore the Simbul's sanity.

During one of his excursions for these artefacts, Elminster's body was destroyed by Manshoon, who had secretly been peeling away the Old Mage's contingency spells over several years. However, Manshoon departed before he realized that Elminster had survived his body's destruction in a near-undead state. With the agreement of Amarune and the aid of Storm, Elminster's essence was placed in Amarune's body with the aid of a spell the ex-Chosen had discovered in a cache once belonging to Azuth. Later, thanks to the sacrifice of the Simbul, he regained his former body again and ruined for good Manshoon's claim to the throne of Suzail.

In 1487 DR, Elminster (with the help of the Srinshee, Alustriel, and Laeral Silverhand) stopped Shar as well as Larloch from becoming the new deity of magic. He killed Telamont Tanthul and let Thultanthar fall upon Myth Drannor. Along the way, Mystra was completely restored.

In 1491 DR, Elminster returned to the city of Waterdeep, aiding the newly appointed Open Lord of Waterdeep, Laeral Silverhand, to uncover the culprits behind a string of murders of Masked Lords.

Sincerely, there is a lot of content left outside this summary because Elminster’s material is a lot. A LOT.

Where is he in 1492?

The last time we know about Elminster’s whereabouts is during the book Dead Masks, a year before BG3. He has been working in Mystra’s name in Waterdeep when Hidden Lords have been assassinated. It’s very hard to conceive Gale as Elminster in disguise. Elminster has a different personality and a very obvious pattern of speech, sounding more like a mixture of a scholar and a farmer, and using expressions like Nay, aye, and so on. Elminster being abandoned by Mystra is also a strange concept because if there is something very clear from all the material we can read about his adventures is that Mystra loves him with a particular and exceptional love. He was the only Chosen that, when he was being tortured in the Hells, she attempted to save him by herself, risking her life (obviously, then she changed her mind and sent several Chosen ones that died in the process).

Also, if Gale were Elminster, he should sustain a spell of disguise constantly (many people know Elminster, an old man of white hair and beard), which is also very unlikely for a lvl1 wizard to do.

Source: 3e: Elminster: The Making of a Mage. The Temptation of Elminster. Dead Masks

Sammaster

He was born in 800 DR, probably in Sembia, the Dalelands, or the North. At age of 17, fascinated by the theory of the Arts and how magic works, Sammaster became a follower of Mystra. He was a gaunt man of poor health, full of eccentricities: he never remained in one place for too long, he skipped his meals and sleep in favour of learning, and it's suspected to have fathered a countless number of children.

Before being 40 y/o he acquired the skills of an archmage and he discovered, rediscovered, or improved numerous spells in the advanced theory of magic known as "metamagic". All this discovery of knowledge and magic (so favoured by Mystra as we can see in the post about "Mystra and her Chosen ones") granted him the attention of the Goddess, who appeared before him.

At his 50 y/o Sammaster saw his most fervent dream appear before his very eyes. He was both awestruck and smitten with passion as he fell to his knees and wept upon Mystra’s feet. Raising him to meet her gaze, Mystra responded to his unspoken question and swept him into her embrace. They spent a tenday together, and at the end of that period, Mystra asked him if he thought he was worthy and strong enough to carry a part of her divine power within him. Despite not knowing what she meant, Sammaster accepted anyway, becoming the first Chosen after she conceived her seven daughters. Mystra explained that she had chosen him for his development in metamagic but also because she had foreseen the death of an already Chosen one (Syluné) whose place she wanted immediately filled with Sammaster.

Sammaster was ordered to be in contact with Elminster to learn more about his new condition of Chosen. Sammaster and Elminster developed a tense situation mostly because Sammaster's obsessive love for the Goddess deepened while Elminster kept reminding him that her only consort was Azuth.

Dejected for the truth that he would never have a personal long-lasting relationship with Mystra, Sammaster focused on understanding the powers of the Chosen and the mysteries of the Lady in himself and in Toril. However, a seed of resentment started to grow.

In 855 Sammaster found a Zhentarin slave caravan resting in a camp. In it, he found three large cage carts full of peasants taken from the farmlands in the surrounding area. Enraged, Sammaster attacked the Zhentarin using his spells and Silver Fire, but in the process he killed many innocents he wanted to save. His mind snapped that day. Despite trying to convince himself that the Zhentarins were to blame, this episode was—without any doubt—the seminal event that irrevocably turned Sammaster down the path to madness and, eventually, evil.

Years later he started to develop his interest in necromancy in an attempt to return those innocents he had killed, trying to find a way to revive the dead. During this time his interest was focused on the undead, and forged relationships with some liches. How did Mystra allow this? At that time, Mystra was a much more neutral deity. Her primary interest was the use and development of magic; she cared little about how it was used or by whom. As long as Sammaster continued to advance the theories of magic and push forward its frontiers for all mortals, Mystra turned a blind eye to his necromancy interests.

In 861 DR Sammaster met Alustriel, Chosen of Mystra, and fell in love with her. His unbalanced mind seemed to finally find some peace and stability, but his obsession —at first focused on Mystra—now turned upon Alustriel, wanting to master her, to make her entirely his, and to make her world revolve around him. Disturbed with Sammaster's necromancy research and his increasing need for control over her, Alustriel broke up with him.

Afterwards, while deepening in his experiments with necromancy, Sammaster befriended Algashon Nathaire, a priest of Bane who had formerly been a mage. In the unstable Sammaster, Algashon saw the chance to create a formidable tyrant. Bane must also have seen the chance to rob one of his most powerful enemy’s Chosen of his last vestiges of sanity and perhaps his powers or even his life.

Presented as a friend, Algashon manipulated Sammaster into thinking that all his failures and problems were the fault of that uncaring goddess and her equally inconsiderate servants, her so-called "Chosen". Sammaster resisted this subtle indoctrination at first, only to be painfully reminded of the events at the slavers' camp (the Zhents' fault, of course), his uneasy relationship with Elminster, his failure to win the love of Mystra (Azuth's fault and Elminster's for pointing it out so hard-heartedly), and his failure to win Alustriel (her fault and that of her Goddess). As time went on, Sammaster argued against these superficial, easy excuses less and less, and Algashon's lies wove their way deeper into the unhappy and unstable mage's mind. The next step of Algashon was to steal the secrets of the power of the Chosen. To do that, he encouraged Sammaster to use his Chosen power at every opportunity.

Rather than risking their pawn's life (yet) by attempting to strip the silver fire from Sammaster outright, Bane and Algashon decided to try and arrange to steal another Chosen's silver fire: given her past with Sammaster, Algashon chose Alturiel. This way Sammster fought Alturiel, aiming silver fire against her. Losing the battle against a maniacal Sammaster, Alustriel called for help from Laeral Silverhand and Khelben Arunsun. The three of them won the combat against Sammaster.

Azuth presented himself on Mystra's behalf and removed Sammaster's Chosen condition. When the other Chosen left the place, Algashon helped Sammaster, affixing the immortality of the Chosen ones in his body despite having lost his powers. While he could be destroyed, Sammaster continued to remain ageless and to heal from wounds very quickly. However, as a side-effect of this spell, Sammaster lost his last vestige of sanity and morality that may have remained in his clouded mind.

In 887 DR Sammaster retranslated old texts of a prophecy, highlighting the importance of undead dragons and creating soon afterward his own Cult. In his insanity, he kept doing more necromancy research focused on turning dragons into draconlich to follow this prophecy. His first success in turning a dragon (Shargrailar) into an undead made his cult famous. In this way, Sammaster earned a powerful weapon with which threatened many across Faerun and obtained an enormous amount of money. Even the rich nobles paid tribute when the Cult threatened to send Shargrailar to burn their farmlands and villages to ash. Sammaster did not think to oppress the peasants for their coppers, but the noble powerful ones.

In 960 DR, his cult finally adopted the name “Cult of the Dragon”, even though “Cult of the Dracolich” could be more appropriate, even though Shargrailar still looked like a normal dragon. By that time the cult increased too much for Sammaster and Algoshon to control, so Sammaster wrote all his wisdom in a book called Tome of the Dragon that would turn into the core of the cult, helping them to spread Sammaster's ideas beyond their limitations.

The popularity of the cult was not missed by several groups. The Harpers tried to destroy it, but they failed. The Zhentarims are also against Sammaster's cult since their activities are limited with the constant threat of the Dragon Shargrailar. More groups were added to the cult's list of foes, but Sammaster ignored them or sent them a dragon to destroy them. Not merely mad now, Sammaster was becoming drunk with a level of power he had not felt since before he had been stripped of his powers as one of the Chosen. Algashor suggested that he keep a low profile in order to protect the cult, but his advice was ignored.

In 916 DR, The Harpers developed a plan to eliminate Sammaster and weaken the cult itself. The battle was brutal and Sammaster seemed to win by the end of it, commanding an army of undead and experimental creatures. Sammaster would have won had not Lathander sent a battle avatar, enraged by the undead abominations that Sammaster created. After an intense battle, Lathander incinerated Sammaster. However, Sammaster had planned ahead: he had sent his mind to a phylactery before being killed.

With the phylactery and a special book of the Tome of the Dragon, a loyal cultist called Zotulla had been ordered by Sammaster to create a new cell of the cult in the Northwest. However, Zotulla failed and died at the hands of an orc war party who discarded the phylactery and the book. Both items were lost for more than 300 years, until a shaman may have deciphered the instructions in the book and raised Sammaster as a lich.

In 1282 Sammaster rose as a lich and began to gather the remnants of his cult once more. Harpers and some countries began to plan to defend themselves from this danger again. In 1285 a group of adventuring paladins known as the Company of Twelve supported by the Harpers, attacked the lich and killed him at a great cost. However, neither the phylactery nor the book were found. The possibility for him to return is high.

In 1373DR Sammaster completed the transformation of the Dracorage Mythal. This was a Mythal created by elves around -25.000DR which had a maddening effect on dragons, making them lose their minds for several tendays. This effect used to be linked to the appearance of the comet King-Killer Star in the sky. When Sammaster transformed this mythal by binding his phylactery to it, its maddening effect was no longer constrained by the appearance of the comet but linked instead to his own life force. Only Dracoliches remained unaffected by Sammaster’s endless, ever-intensifying Dracorage effect. This fact forced wyrms to join his Cult and accept to be transformed into dracoliches or suffer permanent madness. By manipulating this effect, Sammaster tried to retake control over his Cult. However, a group of adventurers destroyed the mythal—thus Sammaster’s phylactery—and put an end to this effect.

Where is he in 1492?

So, is Gale Sammaster? Lore-wise, to destroy a lich for good you need to destroy their phylactery. This has been done in 1373DR, therefore, I hardly see any potential for Sammaster to raise again. And here is where any possible argument ends.

What Sammaster's story shows us is that Mystra's sudden abandonment is not uncommon once she gave them their Chosen powers. In the report of the Harpers that narrate Sammaster's life in the book Cult of the dragon (2e), there are some comments pointing out how Mystra, despite noticing Sammaster's madness, allowed him to follow his dark path. One may speculate that maybe Mystra uses the obsession that she may cause in some of her Chosen ones, in order to make them eager to explore beyond their limits so she can acquire knowledge or control of new magic.

Certainly, what Sammaster and Gale share in common is how they were favoured by Mystra, had a affair with her, and soon afterwards she stopped “whispering” in their ears. Their condition as Chosen had been kept intact, but their madness in one case, or their devotion in the other, made them go too far. Sammaster ended up being a toy of a priest of Bane, while Gale simply made the mistake of thinking himself capable of controlling an unknown magic to impress Mystra in order to have once more her attention on him. More than this is walking on the headcanon terrain since the game in EA can't provide more information.

Source book: Cult of the dragon (2e), Dragons of Faerun (3.5e)

Conclusion

The truth is that Gale is Kirby. He doesn't only eat artefacts but also Faerûn iconic characters as well (joke done by a reddit user)

In my personal interpretation, I hardly see Gale as the incarnation of anyone. First, it would be very, very lazy writing. Characters such as Sammaster, Elminster, or Azuth tend to be NPCs. We found some of them in games such as previous Baldur’s Gate games or Neverwinter nights.

But the main and strongest argument against secretly being any of these characters is that he is an origin character. All companions are potential players in their origins. Anyone who played DOS2 AND played an origin character would understand this: there is no plot twist of that magnitude in their personal backstories that would erase completely the essence and the personality of the character. All that sensitive information is previously stated.

All what we need to know about the origin char is basically said in the BG3 webpage. Those descriptions are the same ones found in the game, which changed after EA was released in Astarion’s and Gale’s case, showing—in my opinion—that Larian changed them a bit at the last stage of development. These descriptions spoil every secret that the characters have. This doesn’t mean their more complex background should not be part of a plot twist later in the game, but it would not have the impact of erasing completely the RPG characters you were playing for a while.

Every companion has a secret spoiled in their descriptions: Astarion, his vampire condition; Shadowheart, her Shar faith and he mission; Wyll, Mizora; Lae’zel, the tadpole (not for the group, but for her people); Gale, the “orb”. All these secrets are informed beforehand to the player for them to pick an Origin if they want to play it and make it their own. As companions, we learn these secrets early (act 1). This happens in act 1 of DOS2 too.

A player choosing an origin has to be informed of the character’s secrets and motivations at the moment they pick it. Otherwise, it would ruin their RPG experience, making the player unaware of their own character’s true nature. This doesn’t mean that deepening their backgrounds would not make us discover information we don’t know. My point is, it won't remove the character’s persona turning him into a character very well known in lore.

Gale, so far, seems to be a pretty fair standard wizard who had a young obsession over Mystra (quite common in terms of lore for those who stand before her), which brought him troubles and made him prone to mistakes (as, once more, we know it tends to happen in lore). The justification why he was Chosen is also clear from a lore point of view: we have a context post-Spellplague that made Gale's skills more than useful for Mystra. In my opinion, there is nothing else abysmally suspicious beyond these points, and if there are more secrets, it seems fair to think that not even Gale is aware of them.

This post was written in June2021. → For more Gale: Analysis Series Index

#gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #bg3 early access #bg3 gale #azuth #myrkul #karsus #elminster #sammaster #lore #chosen of mystra #FR lore

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fuchsiagrasshopper · 4 years ago

Text

Contending the Flame VII

Author's Note: Not much to say here, but the story's content will start to go up in rating after this, so prepare yourself for some wild changes coming! Thanks as always for being such a fantastic audience :)

Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word count: 2336

Warnings: language, mentions of blood, master/servant dynamic

Victory had been claimed for the sons of Ragnar. They managed to secure their hold over York, banishing the idea from the Saxons' minds that they could ever again rule the city. Hostages had been taken, and through the blood and the rain, they had seen themselves suffer their share of wounds. All battles came with a price.

Ivar had acquired his injuries, most being from arrows. After he had been tended to by healers and cleansed of blood, the damage had taken its toll and the pain had set in. He was carried to his chambers by Ubbe and another warrior. Hvitserk had not been able to lend a hand as he had sustained a spear to the leg. When first brought the news of his brother's injury, Ivar had felt a stirring of worry, and hatred towards the dead Saxon soldier. For a moment he had wished for Hel to raise the dead once more if it meant he could feed the Christian his axe. He did not want to lose another member of his family, not after his mother or even Sigurd.

The pains of war felt like a bizarre punishment after the glorious charge he had led. His body betrayed him, reminding him of his humility as a cripple once the agony of his legs joined with the burning of his battle wounds. He remembered little of the healers prodding at him and had fallen into a restless sleep, halfway between consciousness and oblivion.

When he came around again, he was roused by the smell of flowers in the dead of night. A fire was burning low in the hearth, and as he turned his head towards the table at his side, a clay vase had been filled with those familiar purple blooms. They had a delicate, sweet smell, the likes of which he had never seen around Kattegat. The harsh winters of home were something he doubted they could have withstood.

Ivar shifted carefully, trying to sit up when he took notice of the dip in the bed beside him. You were above the furs, sitting upright with your back against the wall at the head of the bed. Ólaug, or Catherine; he wasn't certain what to call you. You must have meant to sit down only for a moment but had fallen asleep instead. His eyes traced over the restful look on your face, a pleasant change from the terror that had been there the last time.

Remembering everything Hvitserk had told him, he was brought back to a state of frustration. He didn't want your fear, he wanted your admiration. You had passion when you spoke with him, something that had been driven out by this treacherous spy.

Ivar brought his attention back to his sleeping nun, taking in the rest of you. His gaze was drawn to the particular detail of your exposed calf. Your frock had ridden up to your knee, leaving your lower leg open to the air. He often found himself mesmerized by the beauty of women's legs, admitting only to himself that it was because of his disgust for his own. The smooth curve of your calf met a delicate ankle, that extended to a long, narrow foot.

He wanted to feel the heat of your soft skin, and there was no battle with temptation as he brought his hand towards the exposed flesh. His rough knuckles dragged down on your smooth skin like hail against a silk sheet. The sensation was heady, and the walls of the room felt closer from the rush of lust. Ivar was emboldened. He wrapped his hand around your ankle, forgetting from your time as his thrall that you were a light sleeper.

Your head that had been tucked into your chest jerked up, and you lurched forward, startled awake by his hand. Your eyes met and Ivar could see the same fear there that took hold of an animal before it was about to bolt away. He wasn't going to tolerate that. In no mood or condition to chase you, Ivar tightened his hold on your ankle and tugged you down on the bed with harsh force. You let out a sharp gasp, unable to collect yourself before he had you trapped below him. Everything hurt, but he struggled through the discomfort as he held himself up by his arms above you.

"I did not invite you to share my bed, Christian."

"My apologies," You sputtered. "I'm only here because your brothers do not know which slaves they can trust."

Ivar let out a huff of annoyance, unadjusted to his brothers' concerns for his well-being. It was behaviour he had come to expect from his mother, and maybe Floki. "Right, a spy who is a threat to my life, and whispers in your ear."

Your eyes that had been downcast returned to his face. "Hvitserk told you?"

"My brothers tell me everything. You were mistaken to think otherwise."

He reached for your arm between them, the one covered with the cloth bandage. You were quick to snatch it away, your face coloured in shame. Ivar brought his hand up to your cheek instead, stroking below the bruise that he had yet to get a full explanation. "Stop that, please," You whispered.

"You believe I'll hurt you, even after I've shown to be generous towards you."

"But I am only a slave, and I mean nothing to you. If you killed your brother, what chance do I have of being spared?"

Ivar frowned. It seemed the spy had filled you in on more than just the Bishop. "You know about Sigurd?"

You nodded. "I know you murdered him, like Cain slew Abel."

He did not know of these men for whom you spoke of, but he had the unfortunate feeling that the comparison was not of flattery. Now that you knew things about him that he would not have shared likely, he felt at a disadvantage. He eased away from you, only for you to let out a cry of surprise as he pulled back.

"Ivar," You exclaimed, shoving your palm at the center of his chest so he would lie back down.

He spotted or rather felt what you had seen. It seemed one of his wounds had opened up on his side, the blood leaving a cold, damp stain on his tunic. You leapt up and over him, setting to work on filling a bowl with water. Your fast pace that you had set was dizzying. Ivar watched as you opened up the leather pouch that had been abandoned on the table until now. It contained healing supplies. Your lack of hesitation for what you grabbed proved you were capable, and you were back at his side without pause.

"Off with this, please," You instructed him to shed his tunic, and you had water touching skin the moment he had discarded the soiled clothing. "Look what you've done."

Ivar had never seen you look so disapproving. It was endearing. That you had scolded him by name had not slipped past his notice. "Ivar?"

You paused long enough in your work for your eyes to widen with understanding. "Oh, forgive me. I should not have been so bold."

He turned more towards you while you continued to work, giving a small shrug in response. "It is my name, and I am no longer your master. Perhaps you should cease with formalities."

"No, it wouldn't be proper. You are still a Prince, and leader of an army."

"Then I must insist on calling you Ólaug."

He let out a hiss as you took the needle to his skin, halting only a moment to let him adjust to the discomfort before moving to close the wound. You shot him a small smile, and he grunted from time to time with each passing of the point through his flesh.

"But that's not my name," You insisted as you tied off the end of the stitch, cutting away the remainder of the loose thread with a small knife.

"And it isn't Catharine," Ivar shot back. "So tell me, who are you?"

You sat back on your chair, resting your hands in your lap. They were pink and red from his blood, with dark grime under your short nails. A healer's hands. His own were rough and stained with blood, but from taking lives, not saving them.

"Why is my old name so important? This is the second time you've asked it from me."

"I've never known someone to abandon their name. Your God asks strange things of you."

"As I'm sure yours do as well," You said with no unkindness in your tone. "May I ask about the markings on your back?"

"Your men do not have tattoos?"

You shook your head, eyes wide and full of curiosity. "The body is meant to be untainted, and we should be satisfied with what God gave us."

And yet they made women cut their hair before entering a nunnery. Ivar did not say as much. You were finally allowing your guard to slip, falling back into another one of your conversations that he'd missed.

"We do not read or write in books as you do, but we preserve our stories in runes and symbols. Tattoos are just another way to honour the Gods."

"Did they hurt?"

Ivar let out a gruff laugh. "I was born into suffering. I hardly remember what it felt like to have the colours bleed under my skin. But any sacrifice to the Gods is a privilege, be it in pain, or a life."

"I don't understand how your gods could demand the life of their people," You said, a distraught look falling over you.

"And I don't understand why you Christians nail your people up on crosses."

"It is an act of punishment and humiliation for the criminal. It should dissuade others from committing the same sins."

Ivar smirked. "But we're the savages?"

"I don't claim to be a delegate for all Christians, but I don't believe you are savages. I sometimes think we are similar."

Viking and Christian alike; impossible. "You are naive to think that."

"Maybe so," You said, coming to a stand as you started to clean up your supplies. "But this fighting for York could have been prevented if the King had settled on negotiations with you and your brothers. Our holy Father blessed us all with free will, and we chose to fight and kill, just as your people have."

"A war is a strange place to search for peace," He retorted.

You let a chuckle escape, turning to him with a face flooded in pink. It was beautiful. "Indeed."

There was a prolonged stretch of silence, neither one of them filling it until you returned to sit at the foot of the bed. Ivar liked to think you were comfortable enough in his presence for the moment that you had not felt the need to fill it with empty words.

"Is peace what you want for your people?" He prodded while shifting underneath the furs.

"I'm not in a position to speak on such matters as this is the most exposure I've seen of battle. I suppose peace is better than tending to bloody men, and women waiting at home for husbands and sons who will never return."

"And what about you? If you could wish for anything in this world, what would it be?"

Your face turned to weariness, and for a moment he suspected he had offended you. He would have offered to take the words back if it would have helped, but you chose to answer.

"I wish I was happy," You said in a voice so low that Ivar had almost missed what you had said. But he had heard, to which he frowned in confusion. "You thought I would ask for freedom?"

"Isn't that what all those in enslavement hope for?" He rebuked.

"Before I was captured by you heathens, I was still a prisoner. This is just a different cage."

"I thought being a nun was an honour?" He couldn't help but sneer the words, but you did not appear dismayed.

"When I joined the convent, it was for a sense of duty. It brought me contentment, but there was no joy in my days."

You brought your legs up onto the furs, settling in without regard of whom you were close to. Ivar was pleased by your unintentional behaviour, mesmerized by your fingers as you trailed them through the thick pelted covers.

"I don't understand," He spoke up eventually, long enough to break his concentration on your stroking of the furs.

"Of course you don't. You are a man, a Viking, and a prince. Your life was marked with freedom of choice the moment you drew breath. If I was granted freedom this very moment, where would I go?"

'With me', he thought but did not say the petulant thought aloud. If it was happiness you desired, then he would give it to you.

"I've intruded on you long enough. Would you like me to leave?" You enquired, moving to stand.

"No, stay," he commanded without thinking, and the harshness of his voice caused you to flinch. Taking a quick breath through his nose, he tried again. "Tell me about Cain and Abel."

You eased back onto the bed, choosing to stay out of arm's reach as you delved into your tale. Ivar listened, enraptured by the passion that took over you in the telling. His own heart was beating with a different excitement, and he wondered how much longer he could keep his adoration from you. You were a Christian disguised in heavy frocks and gaudy crosses, but beneath all of that lurked a free woman longing to burst forth, and Ivar was going to draw her out.

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#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x you #ivar lothbrok #vikings imagine #ivar ragnarsson #ivar the boneless #history vikings #ivar imagine #vikings

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poptod · 4 years ago

Text

Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them to Me), pt. 10, (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Relief.

Notes: now ive said this before, but i need to say it again and add on to it. This chapter will NOT make much sense if you do not read Mahjur's story, None Like You. The experience of reading this chapter will also be enhanced if you read Piye's story, Miscreation, but it's not as necessary as Mahjur's story. theyre also long as fuck so heres the important stuff: Piye was born blind and went on a mission when they were about 14 in which they grew their dark skin, massive height, and white hair, and gained some of the sight they'd lost. Mahjur gave up everything to be with Ahk. in the end, Ma'at (Goddess of Truth and Order) forced them apart in the name of the 'holy law'. Ma'at did this because mahjur, as a god, was not supposed to be interfering with the lives of people.

WC: 6.4k

Throughout the entirety of your two-day journey, you never left the canoe, leaving your muscles cramped, and strained, and restless. Still, you supposed you were in a better state than Piye, who had yet to sleep or rest from their rowing. On the other hand, Ahk was fine. At one point you asked him if he was worried about the coming events, but he told you that he wouldn't stress until it happened, and continued to swim beside the canoe without a care.

How you wished to have his capability to simply not think about things.

As you passed by Thebes in broad daylight, you looked far across the river from the western bank, searching for the falcon soldiers. Like Aswan, most of what you saw looked vacant or abandoned. Despite that you continued to stare, watching civilization pass by slowly, till city walls faded away to the flush green of the Nile.

"When will we get there?" Ahk moaned, his neck on the edge of the canoe, allowing him to dip his head upside-down, the crown of his hair soaking in water.

"Shut up," Piye said. The Pharaoh obeyed, although begrudgingly.

Night came and went in the blink of a sleep-heavy eye, passing into the dark early morning. Birds had yet to stir, leaving you in the eerie silence––the quiet before the battle. The only to feel such stress appeared to be you and Piye. Ahk slept on as usual, and the rest of the world remained ignorant to your journey.

"How did you meet Ahk?" You asked, desperate for someone elses' voice rather than the one in your head.

"My father was employed by his father, the Pharaoh of the time. I was... nine, maybe?" They said, taking a moment to remember. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem very close."

"I suppose we are." They paused. "He was a great comfort to me when my father died. And other... such things."

"He seems to have a habit of winning people over," you noted quietly.

"Yes, well... he has a certain charm."

As the sun's light began to crest the horizon, Memphis appeared in the distance, and Piye pulled the canoe to a stop on the western shore. Ahead of you lay the city you had so eagerly fled, the silent white walls foreboding in the worst of ways. You were certain the city would be flooded with falcon soldiers, as well as people who had heard of Ahk's treason, and who had decided Gyasi would be a better ruler. There would be few friends in those walls. Those of standing who had openly expressed their support of the Pharaoh Ahkmenrah had been banished.

Once the boat hit the riverbanks, Piye jumped out of it and pulled it the rest of the way onto solid ground. From there they donned a head covering, and shook the water out of their sandals, before helping you out as well onto dry land. No words were exchanged as you fully dressed yourself as well, sheathing knives you had been toying with.

You stepped to the side, tapping Ahk's head and laughing when it lolled to the side. It took a few more pokes before he truly stirred, moaning about a poor night's sleep, before he noticed you above him.

"When are we gonna be there?"

"We're here," Piye said flatly.

"We are?!" Ahk jumped to his feet, nearly falling over in the canoe. "How's the city look? Is it burned?"

"Look for yourself," you said, manually moving his chin to face the city behind him.

"Beautiful as the day I left," he said, seemingly satisfied. "So what are we doing?"

"Following a Goddesses' orders," Piye said as they finished pinning their head covering.

Ahk haphazardly dressed himself, but refused to wear a head covering. Piye explained thoroughly how screwed the three of you would be if Ahk was instantly recognized, and though the Pharaoh argued back for a little while, he was eventually won over. With that decided, the three of you abandoned the canoe and made way for Memphis.

The flush bushes and trees lining the river soon disappeared into empty sand, the land having been cleared for the construction of the great city. From where you now stood you could see guards inside the entrance of the massive walls. Your heart thrummed in your chest, crashing against its' own strings, sending your thoughts into a flurry. Disappearing was your act––returning was not. Facing the consequences of your actions was something you rarely did, since you weren't locked down anywhere, and didn't require anything from anyone but yourself. Now, you had a self-appointed duty––keep your friends safe. After the many years of your travels, you finally had something to lose.

And the thought of that terrified you.

"We aren't using the front entrance, are we?" You murmured, mostly to Piye.

"Of course not. Have you ever scaled a wall?"

"Well... once when I was trying to escape Ahk," you said reluctantly.

"Oh, I remember that," Ahk said with recognition in his eyes. "Then I tied you to the bed."

"Yeah, and then I cried."

"You two are.. I don't even know. You're insane," Piye said. "Now stop being insane and help me here."

You had yet to reach the walls of Memphis, so Piye stopping halfway there confused you for a moment.

"What are we doing?"

"I can't throw a grappling hook straight up that far," Piye said, kneeling and digging into their bag, "so we have to set up here."

Before they could find the hook amongst the mass of other tools set carelessly in their bag, they stopped suddenly, raising their head and looking off to the city. It didn't catch your eye at first, but when they didn't move for a good minute, you noticed, as did Ahk.

"Piye?"

They stood suddenly, the tools in their lap clattering to the ground. Long threads of white hair began to rise, floating mid-air as though Piye stood underwater, or stood suspended in nothing.

Your attention alarmingly caught, you circled round them, finding their eyes white and glowing on a face of night-black skin.

"Piye, this is not a good time to have a revelation!" Ahk chided, reaching for their wrist. Before he could do so, Piye flicked his hand away, making him recoil with a pained gasp.

"There is..." their voice spoke in double, in triplicate, echoing in your skull like the resonance of a gong, "... much to do."

You and Ahk looked to each other, both searching for answers that neither of you had. Piye continued their path forward, leaving you and their belongings behind, as they headed in broad daylight towards the city's gates. Without ever having to reach up, their head scarves and chest coverings fell away till all that remained was their skirt.

What the fuck do we do now, came through your head, but you had little time to voice your question before Ahk ran to Piye. You followed, mimicking his actions when he tried to stop Piye or direct them the other way.

"You're going to get us killed!" Ahk scream-whispered, all too aware of the soldiers surrounding the city's entrance. He leant the entirety of his weight on Piye, attempting to pull them back, but they showed no sign of strain.

"It is meant to be," they said in a hush. "It is meant to be."

Their mouth closed but the words remained, whispered over and over again in your ears. Your own breathing had already hastened, fingers tense with your own terror, worsening as you met the eye of one of the guards.

"Ahk, they're looking at us!" You hissed behind Piye's back, still grasping helplessly at Piye's hands to attempt at pulling them back.

Panic stewed in your heart and leaked into your head, leaving you in a daze of confusion, unsure what to do to protect yourself and your friends. The soldiers were now focusing their attention on you, and Piye's eyes were still glowing.

It was then, within full view of the falcon soldiers and about ten feet from the city itself, that the magi released themself of your terrified grips, rising into the morning air. They opened their mouth and out came a voice that did not belong to them, lodged in their throat as they screamed over the rustling of guards and soldiers readying themselves for battle. Bells began to chime in the city, alerting officials and citizens to the threat now floating above the white walls of Memphis.

"If ye are in Heaven or on Earth, I am the Only One in your bodies," Piye spoke, loud enough to be heard throughout the city.

The sheer volume and the vibrations within the earth that followed had you crouching down, and covering your ears with your hands, a position Ahk soon adopted as well. You watched from the corner of your eye as the soldiers fell victim to that same, screeching pain digging into either side of their heads. Swarms of people began to leave the city through the back entrance, trampling over each other like fleeing rats.

"I am the Pure one – I shall not die a second time. I am He Who is Not Known."

Ahk's eyes darted upwards, recognition flooding him.

"They're calling in Amun," he murmured, just loud enough to hear between the pauses of Piye's words.

"Already?!"

"I don't think they can control it," Ahk said, but as Piye continued, he was forced to cover his ears once more, wincing away.

"Your forms, indeed all forms, are my habitation. My moment is within your bodies. I am The Unveiled," Piye said, and suddenly the aura around them stilled, fixed on a glow brighter than the sun.

For a moment all was silent. Then their mouth opened, gaped and unhinged from the skull as they looked to the sky. An ear-splitting note came from them, running through the earth and sky, even through the water that now bubbled on the shore as though heated by fire. Horror filled your chest, spreading quick through your veins till your body trembled and shook.

Light flooded out of their mouth, a great beam of sun cast into the dark morning sky. Their still-glowing eyes now gave their skull a hollowed look, filled with nothing but light, pouring out with the overflow. Such multitudes could not be contained to a mortal body.

"We need to get the hell out of here!" Ahk yelled over the horrifying screeching, attempting to cover his ears best he could while still reaching for you.

Hopeless, you reached out as well, finding his hand in the space between you and grasping it as though he were a ship in a storm. He pulled you along, stumbling on his feet just as you did. The deep hum running through the earth and water had already worsened, till the ground began to crack, the water of the Nile turning into steam at an alarming rate.

You said nothing to each other, but he led you into the city and you followed without question. Every two seconds you cast looks behind your shoulder, watching events carelessly unfold, and stumbling over yourself whenever Ahk increased his speed. Together, you barrelled down the straight pathway to your destination––the gleaming palace.

"Ahk, what are we going to do?" You asked in a shaky voice, burdened by stumbling feet and a racing heart.

"I don't know," he admitted in his own fear-laced tone. "We need to hide you."

"We can't hide forever!" You wrenched yourself out of his grasp, pulling the both of you into a side alley hidden from Piye's––or Amun's––eyes. "That Goddess wants us here for a reason. We have to face him eventually."

"What if they were just dreaming?" He grasped both your upper arms, looking into you with wide, terrified eyes. "What if that Goddess doesn't come? I. Cannot. Lose you."

"It's our only hope. Don't you believe in your own Gods?"

"Not since Amun tried to steal you from me," he said, still searching your face for something he clearly couldn't find.

"That's your fucking friend up there!" You said, pointing behind you to Piye, who was now floating above the city walls, their hair suspended as they continued to bellow with that horrible ringing sound. "I know for a fact Piye would give their life for you and you should do the same."

"I know, I know," he hissed. "But I won't risk you. I have to hide you –"

He reached for you again, but you swatted his hands away.

"I will not be hidden!"

"No, no, no, no, no," he began to murmur, his gaze flickering between you and Piye, far behind you. "No, you must stay away. Far away."

"Ahk, I'm n––"

He tore his sleeve, a habit he had apparently used enough to become good at, and promptly tied it around your mouth. You protested greatly, pushing and shoving and kicking him away. In the end it was that same struggle you never won––your hands were tied behind your back, quite literally, and your legs followed. Even as you writhed and yelled, you could note the tears streaking down his face.

"Don't you do this!" You said through the gag, your words muffled as he threw you over his shoulder.

"I must keep you safe. I cannot fulfill my role if I am worrying about you," he explained in a weak voice.

With that, he hid you away in an underground cellar, locking the door as he left. Try as you might––and you did try, from yelling to thrashing to crying––you couldn't move from your spot, tied to one of the pillars holding up the dirt ceiling.

As much as he promised not to hurt you or bind you in any way, he sure had done it a lot. Tears began to burn your own eyes, and soon they were falling, soaked up by the gag wrapped around your head.

Piye's unholy screeching had yet to stop, even within the earth. The vibrations you'd felt so fiercely were dulled with distance, a fact you were very relieved about, as any risk of cave-in would've held you mortified. It was a small comfort compared to the severity of your situation, but you tried to revel in it nonetheless.

Every now and then you'd thrash in your bonds again, hoping your continuous struggle had done you some sort of good. Each time you were proven wrong, and still you rubbed your ropes against the splintered wood that kept you there, praying the bonds would break.

A soft hum reverberated in the room, and for a moment you were terrified Amun (in Piye's body, of course,) was knocking at the door. But a popping sound marked the end of the tune, making way for a person to appear, their form tall and still nothing more than a white silhouette.

How many god-damned magic people am I going to meet in Egypt? you thought tiredly. Piye was already enough for you, but the bushy, almost circular hair of this person had you convinced it was someone else.

Eyes pulled themselves open. The only trait on the glowing, ethereal form, and you recognized them. The heat on your skin. The crawling unease trickling down your spine. You recalled a night's sleep spent in a restless haze, and it clicked––it had watched you. This had watched you, now reaching forward as though to touch you. Instinctively you flinched away, but you couldn't go anywhere, not bound to the pillar. You tried your best to cringe and strain away. It still touched you, first by its' fingertips, and the burning heat reached down from your forehead down into your sternum.

"Stop!" You cried when the entirety of its' hand spread over your forehead, sending searing pain through your nerves like electricity. With your shout it withdrew, seemingly surprised by your reaction.

"Whhhat iss your naammmee?" It asked in many voices that spoke one after another, stretching the words.

"... Amoke," you said quietly, still pushing yourself against the pillar, but thankful it was no longer hurting you.

Slowly, starting at their crown and spreading down to their feet, their image appeared through the light. Who stood before you was not someone you recognized, but there was something unearthly about them––as their mouth opened, you found long rows of sharp teeth, all ordered as if it were normal to have that many teeth. But they towered above your shrunken form, fiery gold eyes staring down.

"You are... a friend of Ahkmen's?" They breathed out.

"Y - you mean Ahkmenrah?"

"Yes," they said with a relieved sigh, a smile stretching too-wide across their face. You curled further into yourself at the sight of their sharp teeth. "How is he?"

"Fighting Amun, I think," you said, hoping it would help them along.

"Oh, right," they said, jumping back into action.

Circling you, they bent to untie your ropes, grabbing your hand and wrenching open the lock on the door. Without pause they bounded up the steps with you in tow, leading you out of the alley and back onto the main street. By now the sun had risen, now shining bright with its' familiar warmth, circled by a sky of blue.

"Come, we must –"

"Wait, for one second," you said, pulling on your hand to release their hold, but you couldn't shake them off. "Who are you?"

"... my name is Mahjur," they said in a quiet voice. "I don't know if you know of me."

"I've... heard some things," you said vaguely.

"Shall we go now?"

You nodded, and the two of you were off. The main street still led straight from the gates to the palace, Gyasi to your right and Piye to your left. You had no way of knowing which way Ahk had decided to go, but Mahjur seemed to have some idea, as they set off straight away for Piye.

When you reached the city gates, you found the ground ripped into pieces, lightning-like strikes running through the earth. You stumbled over them and jumped, reaching the riverside where Amun had unleashed a special hell of holy wrath. The Nile was still boiling, and the height of the water had gone down drastically already, matched by the haze of fog and steam now hiding Amun, and Piye, from view. Spilt blood soaked your sandals, reaching up to the soles of your feet in a sticky liqueur. Sickness suddenly overtook you, nearly vomitting from the sensation even despite your previous run-ins with blood-soaked limbs, memories of dry blood tainting your tongue.

"Who has brought me to this form?" He asked from Piye's mouth, too deep for them, too roaring and ear-piercing.

"I am," said a woman, and your attention zipped to a figure standing atop the city gates, looking up at Amun. "I came to a magi in a dream and asked them to summon you."

The Goddess.

"Who is that?" You asked Mahjur quietly.

"Ma'at," they answered. "Goddess of order. I asked her to help. Knew she wouldn't stand by if she knew a God was breaking the natural order."

"Can we help her?"

"Yeah. Just need to wait for Ahkmen to get back from the palace," they said, looking back over their shoulder towards the shining palace in the distance. "He's fetching his royals and their soldiers under the guise of protecting the city. Once they're here, we can take down Amun, and Ahkmen can deliver a final blow. That'll reinstate him as Pharaoh."

"You've thought this through."

"Of course I have. I actually plan ahead, unlike Ahk."

"You can say that again," you mumbled beneath your breath.

Mahjur didn't respond, but took your hand again, pulling you out past the giant walls. The cracks in the ground were large enough that, at times, you needed to jump over the crevices, dodging the crumbling earth leading into a bottom you couldn't see. Before you could ask what to do, Mahjur began to search through the stalls still put together after Amun's rampage.

Caught up in whatever Mahjur was searching for, you remained unaware of Amun's argument with Ma'at, one that had digressed into nothing more than angry yelling. His eyes inevitably fell to you, and the glow within them tripled.

"Amoke," he said in a whisper that still echoed like drums.

You whirled around with eyes big as the moon. He, Piye and Amun, looked upon you with a smile that crawled across the darkened skin, illuminated by both the glow in his eyes and the rising daylight. Petrified into place, you could do nothing but watch as he lowered himself to your level. In Piye's body, Amun still towered over you, just as he had inhabiting his golden statue.

"Don't you look away from me, Amun!" Ma'at yelled from the top of the wall.

Even as the Goddess yelled, he did not tear his gaze from you. You began to back up, looking behind you to try and find Mahjur, but they were as scared stiff as you were. They would not help you, and Ma'at was too far away.

He snatched you in his arms, grinning as though he'd won some sort of prize. In Piye's face, glowing with Amun's power, you found something familiar––hunger. Ahk's hunger, of cannibals, of the rich. Your hands shook, followed by your heart thundering in your chest till you were sure your veins would explode. His smile was too wide, like Mahjur's, but empty and near expressionless.

"Pretty little thing," he said softly, scanning your face.

Wings of green and gold spread out above Amun's head, catching your eye as he attempted to lean in closer to you. Your eyes further widened when they began to descend, growing larger till the ground shook with the landing of heavy feet, marking Ma'at's footprints in the earth that burnt at the touch of her skin.

"How dare you look away from me," she said in a voice that trembled with her fury, barely contained in her mortal form.

A large hand came over Amun's head, wrenching on his––or rather Piye's––long, silver hair. Under Ma'at's control, he turned to face her with ire in his gritted teeth.

The Goddess, who had at first seemed rather small and delicate, had grown to twice the size of even Piye, meaning she seemed much like a statue to you and Mahjur. Her wings that came from nowhere now flared out, appearing to crown her head that she held high. Her eyes did not glow, but her anger reverberated in the air, thrumming in your bones.

"You claim to be a lord of all creation," she said through a fixed jaw, forcing Amun back and kneeing him in the face, hard enough to hear an audible crack that you winced away from. "And then you kill your children, betray the one who saved your armies, attempt to steal from the one who gave you back your power. You were not born yesterday, Amun."

When Ahk left you tied up in a cellar, the tears that lined his face grew cold in the wind of his running footsteps. His pace was slowed by the uphill slant, but he pushed himself as far as he dare, and made it to the bottom of the palace entrance in a short amount of time.

He noted throughout his run an astonishing absence of people. No people in their homes, no markets setting up, no guards at the palace door. As he made his way up the stairs, the reason for it became clear––the sound of many footsteps all trampling over each other came from within the pristine white walls of his home, coupled with fretting voices talking muted behind the walls. He cracked open the door to the inner chambers, and found his hypothesis to be correct.

The whole of the city––or those who had decided not to flee––were hidden within the palace. At the other side of the room sat the raised floor of the throne, and upon it sat Gyasi, flanked by the lesser advisors of Ahk's father. He kept a perfectly still expression, but Ahk knew better––Gyasi panicked under stress but seeked action in times of peace.

Keeping his head low, Ahk crept through the crowd, a hand on the wall to ensure he wouldn't lose himself. A few of the people he passed had hanging swords attached to their hips, and so he stole two just in case, hoping he wouldn't have to use either. Through the mutterings he heard, there were a good deal of complaints about Gyasi––a fact he definitely liked, though his delight was shortlived, as he soon heard a fair amount of criticisms on himself as well.

Murmurings and voices grew louder, more concerned as Amun's voice pierced the thick walls, sparking panic among the crowd. People began to move, bumping against each other and pushing one another aside. Ahk was inevitably hurt as well, thrown against the wall and landing on the floor.

It came to such a height that Gyasi stood, yelling a call to attention above the crowd, who stilled on command.

"Amun will not kill his devotees," he ensured, the skin of his neck dangling as he shouted. "He is searching for the False King and his whore."

Ahk could physically feel his irises shrink as he singled down on Gyasi, hatred boiling in his head.

"He is seeking a citizen," Ahk said, projecting his voice to speak over the old man stealing his throne.

Gasps came from those around him, the crowd suddenly parting completely, leaving him centered out from the bustling heads. Gyasi narrowed his eyes as he saw him.

"A citizen named Amoke. They are my friend, so I must protect them, but I will not abandon my people, leave them helpless in the hands of an artifact," Ahk continued as he stepped forward, making his way to the throne, where Gyasi began to back away. "Do you really think keeping everyone here is going to work?"

"We are dealing with your mess! It is undignified to insult someone cleaning up after you," Gyasi said with furrowed brows, a grimace and a sneer forming simultaneously on his crooked lips.

"I think it's alright if they're doing a godawful job at it," Ahk said flatly. "You need to get the citizens out of here, hide them in the brush of the Nile. If Amun breaches the city walls, this is the first place he will look, and he will demolish every living thing he sees. He is aiming to kill my friend, Amoke, and he does not care if others die in the process."

His words were doing little to quell the audience's worries, but that was his aim, as detrimental as it might be to the health of his citizens.

"You think you know better than I? I have been protecting the people of this city longer than you've been alive."

"You are a remnant of my father's rule. A relic from a time of barbaric violence and meaningless bloodshed. Now get the people to the nearest outcrop of the Nile. You and I have a God to face, if you're truly ready to protect Kemet," Ahk said, offering forward one of his swords.

"... very well," Gyasi said slowly, grasping the sword and drawing it to hilt on his hip. More murmurings came from the crowd that watched the argument. "Pikta, divide the populace and take them in groups. Divide soldiers evenly as you can."

"Yes, sir," said a soldier, who bowed and ran to the front of the room to obey.

"Is Amun outside?" Gyasi asked as he made his way to the entrance of the palace, Ahk at his side.

"He's at the city gates in Piye's body," Ahk said, and as the two of them breached the threshold, he found he could still see Piye's flying body in the distance.

"That beast?" He said with raised brows. "We have quite the battle ahead."

"Hopefully, we won't have to use these swords. We should have the help of a Goddess," Ahk said. "She came to Piye in a dream a little while ago and instructed us on the beginnings of a plan. It is our duty to help her."

"How do you know it isn't a trick?"

"We don't."

The two men began to run down the pathway, both sets of eyes trained on the distant crumbling walls of the city, allowing them to see a tall woman holding a man by his neck against the reflected sun on the Nile. As Ahk noticed two much smaller onlookers, his pace doubled in speed till he bounded down the street. He reached the end much sooner than Gyasi, but it didn't take long till both of them stood shocked, watching Ma'at raise Piye––Amun––into the sky on long, emerald and gold wings.

"I am the Lord of this world," Amun growled, a statement that sent him crashing towards the earth, Ma'at's muscled arm pounding him down.

She stalked over to him, footsteps drumming against the ground till she knelt at his side, grabbing his hair and pulling his face out of the mud.

"I want you to say that to Ptah," she said, before letting his head fall back down. "Mahjur."

Ahk's heart froze at the name. You watched it happen, how his body seized, eyes darting to the God beside you. He lost feeling in all his limbs as Mahjur stepped forward, glancing at Ahk before quickly looking away and joining Ma'at's side.

The two Gods––Ma'at and Mahjur––spoke to each other quietly, and most everyone present listened in with shocked expressions. What you didn't notice, caught up in Ahk's reaction to his old friend, was Amun sinking into the earth. You only realized this as you, too, began to lower into the earth. Beneath you, hands had grasped your ankles and pulled you down.

"Um, Ahk...!" You said in hyperventilated gasps, helpless on how to save yourself.

You no longer had control of your legs, unable to pull them upwards, and there was nowhere your arms could hold onto. Ahk looked to you, shouting when he caught the tail-end of you disappearing wholly into the ground. He ran to where you stood, but it was too late, and Amun was raising himself into the sky with you bound to him.

"Amoke!" Ahk cried.

“They do not belong to you,” Amun said with a smile, unsheathing a knife and baring it to those watching him in an act of vanity. “It’s mine.”

From above, those gathered at the city gates seemed small––even Ma'at, who was twice your height. You watched, unable to breathe through your bindings, as an object materialized in Ma'at's hand and was handed to Ahk with words you couldn't hear. The point of it directed to you, and in an instant you recognized it.

A hornbow.

The tip of the arrow pointed straight to you, and you writhed, desperately trying to escape Amun's grasp and worm out of the way. But he held you fast, and through his speech you couldn't hear over the thundering of your flowing blood, he laughed and held you tighter yet.

Twang.

The drawstring shot back into place, sending the arrow zipping through the sky, and straight into Piye's chest. Amun's arms and magical bindings faded away, and you fell through the open air. Ahk ran to catch you, careening straight into the still-steamy river with open arms. His efforts were not for nothing, as he caught you, using the water to ease your descent as well.

"They asked me to do it," Ahk said through tears pouring out of his eyes, falling as a rainstorm does, as waterfalls do, as blood does from the tip of a sword. "They asked me to shoot them. I didn't think. I saw you, and – and – I didn't –"

"It's going to be alright," you whispered in a shaky voice, comforting best you could even with your trembling hands. His shoulders wracked with heavy sobs as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, wide, haunted eyes cast over your back.

You looked upwards, watching what Ahk could not bear to see. Piye, and Amun, were suspended in open space, the end of a glittering arrow buried in their chest. As the body began to rise higher, your gaze fell to Ma'at and Mahjur still on the shore. They were chanting, both of them––something you couldn't hear, but their eyes began to glow, the veins in their body shining through their skin. You tapped Ahk's shoulders, asking him in a murmur to look. He reluctantly turned to watch.

The heavenly glow emanating from Piye's bones and eyes began to separate from the physical body, peeling away from itself till all that remained of it was a golden shell, shimmering and translucent. Your mouth fell open, watching the two forms pull away from each other.

Once Piye was fully separated from what you guessed was Amun, they fell down into the river, where Ahk also stumbled weakly to catch them. They did not wake, but the slow up and down of their chest marked that they were still breathing despite the arrow piercing them.

You turned back to the power of Amun, transforming from Piye's body to the symbol of the sun. The spells falling from Mahjur and Ma'at grew slowly louder, lifting Amun's essence through the sky, till it dissipated, and fell into the sun.

Silence.

The hum of magic, of broiling Gods and Goddesses came to a halt, and time stood still. It felt as though the world around you had been imbued with enchantments, marinated in it, and then separated entirely, cut off from the feeling of holiness. Your chest had caved in, leaving you near unable to breathe.

No wind. No movement in the water.

Someone was sobbing––you turned to search for the source, and found Ahk knelt in the water with Piye in his arms. His face was buried in his vizier's neck, quiet apologies coming from his trembling lips, matched by fevered hands.

"Bring them here, Ahkmenrah," Ma'at said softly, beckoning the Pharaoh.

He turned to face her, slowly breathed away the tears still building in his eyes, and carried Piye to shore best he could. When he reached Ma'at's feet, he set his friend down to life flat on the earth.

"Oh you young men," Ma'at murmured as she knelt, a hand poised over Piye and the arrow. "Shu of the morning... who have power over those who flash among the sun-folk, whose arms move about and whose heads sway to and fro... may they move about every day."

Piye's eyes fluttered slowly open, a soft groan escaping them as they blinked. The arrow lodged in their chest dissipated to no more than ash. Ahk gasped, a wide grin spreading across his features as he once more knelt to his knees, helping Piye to sit up.

"Are you alright, my friend?" He asked hurriedly, scanning over the healing injury.

"I... I can't see," Piye murmured in a breath, still swaying from the weakness of their muscles. They fell against Ahk. "I can't see anymore."

"What? How –"

"Oh Gods," Piye said, their breathing quickening. "It's as if I am a child again."

"Amun claimed your magic," Ma'at said softly. She hadn't ever looked you in the eye, but she met the magi's, a kinder look on her than ever before. "To save you and your.. friends, I locked Amun into the sun, with help from Mahjur."

Mahjur gingerly stepped up behind Ma'at, looking to you, then Piye, and to the ground below Ahk.

"I am afraid your magic intwined with Amun’s, and I had to lock it into the sky as well, to rid of him," she finished. “Your magic is what gave you eyesight to begin with, if you remember those years.”

"I... do I look.. the same?" They asked in a shaky voice.

"Taller than anything," Ahk said instantly. "Dark skin. White hair. You look the same."

"But with no... magic," they murmured.

"You may still have remnants. Most people do have a base magic. You might be able to do small spells," Mahjur said. You watched Ahk bite into his cheek and look down.

Piye cried––you expected little else, and you waited patiently as they came to process everything that had just happened. When they requested a rundown of the events (as apparently their memory was not fantastic), Ahk happily explained what had come to pass, with his usual dramatic debonair. Ma'at stayed and chuckled at certain points, but stood when Ahk finished.

Movement caught the corner of your eye, and your gaze darted upwards, ready for any return of danger. But what you found instead were people––lots of people, coming from several different directions and circling you, Ahk, the two Gods, Piye, and Gyasi. They were muttering amongst themselves, and from what you heard they appeared to be discussing the validity of Ahk's story.

"I must return to the Duat before anything else decides to unhinge itself from the natural order," Ma'at said at the end of Ahk's retelling. Mahjur, who had taken a seat beside the Goddess, stood as well.

"Wait, Ma'at," Ahk said, standing with a hand out, hoping to halt her. She turned expectantly. "Can I... Mahjur..."

She glanced between the two, who even now were too nervous to look at each other. You watched on though, watched how timid and shaky they both grew, itching terribly to acknowledge one another.

"... very well," Ma'at sighed. "I'll give you a moment."

Ahk didn't even leave time to thank Ma'at for the allowance. He went straight to his friend, colliding with them and wrapping his arms so tight round them you could swear it'd kill a regular human. Mahjur had much of the same attitude, tears and laughter coming simultaneously from them.

"I will be waiting for you," they said with the biggest grin, parting for a very short moment to stroke the side of his face. "I wait for you in the field of reeds."

"I await my death, then," Ahk laughed giddily, followed by his friend bursting into giggles as well. You couldn't help but grin, but you hid it behind your hand.

"Come now, Mahjur," Ma'at commanded, and the two friends reluctantly parted, allowing Mahjur to rejoin Ma'at.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, though Ma'at was still a great deal taller than everyone present, and in a flash they were gone. Murmurings in the crowd grew in volume, people drawing closer as they realized their Pharaoh had never lied.

They had truly seen Ma’at, the Goddess of peace.

Relief––that was the only way to explain it. Pure, unaltered relief, flooding your veins, flooding your thoughts. Tremors in your hand that you didn't even notice were there disappeared, the knot in your brow fading with it. Air felt like it had been made anew, refreshed after a hundred years of a solitary cave, and you could smile. No more Gods.

Finally.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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iridescent-petrichor · 4 years ago

Text

we’ll meet again, chapter seven

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: nothing, just going along with the plot of Apocalypse

Words: 1.8K

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

You jolt awake to the sound of Peter yelling, eyes snapping open to see him scrambling to the other side of the room you found yourself in. There were green lasers on every side of the wall, encasing you in some sort of cage.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hank’s voice next to you made you turn. He was in his “beast” form, slowly sitting up.

Peter looked down at his hands. “Is that gonna happen to all of us?” He looked up at you for confirmation, but Hank continued speaking.

“No, I just left my meds in the house.” After he stood up, he held his arm out, helping you up as well. You muttered a small thanks in return, still disoriented from everything going on.

“What happened, where are we?” Moira asked, getting no response from any of you.

“Hey, hey!” Raven’s yelling turned everyone’s attention to the top of the room, where the man from earlier was standing behind a window, staring down at you all. You inched closer to Peter, finding a small amount of comfort in the familiarity of your best friend.

“Hello, Mystique.” The man spoke coolly. His voice gave you a chill, only calmed by Peter wrapping an arm around you.

“Major Stryker.” She responded coldly, taking a few steps towards him.

“Colonel Stryker. I wouldn’t get too close to the wall if I were you. It may create some… discomfort.” At his words, you took a step away from the wall, gently pulling Peter with you.

“I’m Moira MacTaggart,” Moira cut in, stepping forward. “I’m a senior officer at the CIA.”

“I know who you are, agent MacTaggart.” Came Stryker’s response.

“You cannot keep me here, in this-”

“Actually I can. A psychic event just destroyed every nuke from here to Moscow.” Peter turned to you, mouthing the words “holy shit” before Stryker spoke again. “That event emanated from exactly where we found you, at the home of the world’s most powerful psychic. So you are going to tell me where is Charles Xavier?”

“It’s not him you should be worried about. There’s someone else. Someone more powerful.” Moira’s words made your heart sink. Someone more powerful?

“If you let us out of here, we can help you.” Raven joined in, growing frustrated.

“Do you really expect me to believe that? You can put on any face that you want, but I know who you are. What you are.” Without saying another word, he stepped away from the microphone and left you all standing there, helpless.

“Um, Moira?” Hank said, catching her eye. “What did you mean when you said someone more powerful than Charles?”

As she began to explain, Peter left your side, shifting your focus as he walked up to Raven.

“Did you know him?” He asked. “Magneto?”

Your brow furrowed as you turned away from Hank’s conversation, appearing back at Peter’s side. He didn’t acknowledge your arrival to the conversation, besides his hand finding yours.

“I used to,” Raven said, not looking at him. “Not so sure anymore.”

“What was he like? Was he uhh- like they say he was- was he the… bad guy?” You could tell Peter was trying to slow his words down for her, half so his desperation wouldn’t shine through and half so she could understand him.

“No.” Her response was immediate, making Peter relax some. “I mean- yeah. He was… Why do you care so much, see his speech on TV or something?”

“Yeah, but, uh…” He cleared his throat, leaning closer to the two of you before continuing. “He’s my father.”

“What?” Raven finally turned around, eyes wide. You were just as shocked, simply whispering his name.

“Him and my mom, they-” Out of instinct, you put your hand over his, stopping him from making the gesture he was about to make while Raven interrupted him.

“No, I know.” She paused for a moment, letting the information sink in as she looked him over. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, he left my mom before I was born. I met him ten years back, but I didn’t know it was him. By the time I figured it out, it was too late. Then this week I saw him on TV again, and I came to that house looking for him? But, by the time I got there,” he exhaled, looking at you briefly before looking back to Raven. “Late again… You know for a guy who moves as fast as me I always seem to be too late.”

“Let’s hope not this time.” She said, and you gave him a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, seriously.”

Before any of you could get another word in, Charles’ voice invaded your mind.

Hear me, inhabitants of this rock. This is a message. A message to every man, woman, and mutant. You have lost your way, but I have returned. The day of reckoning is here. All your buildings, all your towers, and temples… will fall. And the dawn of a new age will rise. For there is nothing you can do. This message is for one reason alone. To tell the strongest among you; those with the greatest power… protect those without.

“How is Charles doing that without Cerebro?” Hank asked, looking around the room.

No one answered, the only sound following Hank’s voice was a sharp knocking at the glass. You looked up, seeing Stryker standing there, impatient.

“I know that voice. It’s Xavier isn’t it, what’s going on?” His tone was so different from before as if all the upper hand he had was lost.

“We don’t know!” Raven yelled, followed closely by Peter’s more childish, “we don’t know, bro!”

Stryker sighed, walking away from the glass. You sighed, leaning your head on Peter’s shoulder. It was nice seeing him again, but everything else around you was just so much. And not to mention losing Alex like that…

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes, trying to regain your composure when alarms started going off. They were faint from where you all were standing, but you could still clearly see the yellow alarm lights flashing in the room behind the window. Whatever was happening couldn’t be good. You picked your head up, taking a tentative step towards the window.

“What are they doing?” Moira asked, not directed at anyone in particular.

“What’s going on?” Hank joined in, as well, all of you staring up at the alarms.

“Hey!” Raven yelled, to no avail. None of you could be heard outside of the cage unless they wanted you to be.

Suddenly, you could hear shouted warnings followed by a round of gunshots. You almost yelped, jumping back at the noise. The five of you stood there, in the middle of the room like sitting ducks. Your eyes kept darting around, trying to get a glimpse of movement in the room, but there was nothing. The alarms continued to blare distantly, but no other sound came.

When you saw Kurt, walk into the room, you blinked a couple times, a mixture of shock and relief on your face.

“Kurt,” Hank said plainly.

“How many blue mutants do you know?” Peter whispered, not taking his eyes off Kurt.

You shushed him, trying to figure out what Kurt was trying to say. He was making small gestures, words not reaching past the room he stood inside. He pointed off behind you guys, but none of you seemed to follow.

“What?” All of you except Raven asked, one at a time. Your brows furrowed as you tried in vain to reach his lips.

Raven pointed to her ear, and Kurt stopped, taking a step back and looking down at the console in front of him.

Whatever he did worked, because then you could hear the crackle of the microphone system.

“St..ay… away… -rom … -e doo-”

“What?” Hank asked again, leaning closer as if it would make him hear better.

“Th- doo- stay -way fr-m th-”

“Get away from the door!” Raven yelled, jumping into action.

“The door!” Peter grabbed your hand, pulling you with him across to the other side of the cage.

“On three!” Kurt’s voice rang out. “One, two-” He stopped, looking at his hand, realizing he ran out of fingers to count with. The count still continued, however, because in the next second, a blast hit the door, shooting debris into the room. You covered your eyes, shrinking away from the blast, not realizing how much Peter was shielding you from it with his body.

Raven ran out first, with you and Peter close behind. In front of you stood Jean and Scott, thankfully unharmed.

“We know where the professor is.” Jean started, looking to Raven.

“I think we might have a way out of here,” Scott said, nodding in reassurance.

“Well, you’ve been busy,” Raven added, taking a step towards them as the rest of the group filed out of the cage.

“We had uh- a- a little help,” Scott muttered, taking off once everyone was safely in the hallway. “Let’s go.”

As you ran, Kurt appeared in front of Scott who barely moved out of the way in time to dodge him.

“Ah! Jesus!” Peter yelled, clearly still not used to being around other mutants.

“Oh, sorry!” Kurt replied in earnest.

After a bit of running and twisting through hallways with dead guards littering the ground, you found a giant room being used as a launchpad, complete with a jet sitting right in the middle.

“Hey Hank, you think you can fly this thing?” Raven asked, knowing damn well he could if he tried.

“Yeah, I could figure it out.” You smiled at his modesty; Hank was one of the smartest people you’ve ever met.

“Hey, guys.” Scott’s voice grabbed everyone’s attention, turning to him. “Flight suits.”

Raven walked over, assessing the suits before looking back to Hank again. “You’ve got your warplane, let’s go to war.”

“Man, I hope those things fit.” You muttered quiet enough for only Peter to hear you. He snickered, walking up to one of the suits, and taking it out from its case.

Once you were all changed, everyone began to board the jet.

“Hey,” you stopped Peter, gently grabbing his wrist. He spun around, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“I’m just,” you hesitated, before looking into his eyes. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

He smiled, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m really glad you’re here too.”

“Guys! C’mon!” Raven called out, making you rush onto the jet.

You took the empty seat next to Peter, wringing your hands together in nervousness. To your surprise, Peter was already shoving a stick of gum in his mouth, god knows where he found that. He glanced at you, noticing your nerves.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’ll protect you.” He seemed so confident about it that you felt yourself relax a little. If only you knew what battle you were getting yourself into.

#peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff x reader

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Day 2: Roceit

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 2: There is a timer that counts down to when you will meet your soulmate

Content warning: vague neglectful/bad home life mentions, liquor store mention (no drinking), implied past parental death.

Word count: 2.6k

When they first met, they didn’t like each other. Would they go so far as to say they hated each other? Probably not. But it was no secret that Roman and Janus didn’t get along, even if they traveled in a mutual friend group. If the two interacted at all, it was in snide remarks and gripes that had everyone else in the group groaning in annoyance. They just wanted five minutes of peace, that’s all. Just five minutes.

Roman was too preppy, Janus said. He was loud and abrasive and presumptuous and arrogant, an annoying theatre boy with too much energy. Other’s feelings came second to his dramatic and overplayed grievances.

Janus was too self centered, Roman retorted. He was untrustworthy and creepy and a compulsive liar, a loner with a mysterious backstory. Everything about him was kept hidden under a mask of indifference.

These things were true to some extent, but the group still loved them both too much to reject either one. So they both stayed, bothered by the other’s presence and unwilling to admit that maybe they disliked the other because they were so similar. They were both extravagant and theatrical and burdened with concealed insecurities, points that all of the rest of the group brought up regularly and they both vehemently denied.

It all changed one morning during school, on a regular Wednesday with average weather after an uneventful English class, when Roman got overly excited at the cast list for the newest show being put up and dropped his art bag. Without a second of hesitation, Janus crouched to help him collect the supplies that had flown across the hallway. That was when Roman’s sleeve slid up, as he was reaching for a paint pen that had rolled up against a locker, and Janus nearly choked.

00:00

He blurted out his accusation before he could stop himself.

“You said you haven’t met your soulmate! And you call me secretive?”

Roman snarled almost animalistically, covering his completed timer back up and grabbing the now full bag off the ground.

“If you must know, my timer’s always been like that. I don’t know when it ran out; too young to remember. I don’t even know if it was ever counting down in the first place. Defective.” He flicked the numbers on his wrist.

“Does anyone else know?”

Roman narrowed his eyes at the uncharacteristic sympathy in Janus’ voice. “Just Remus.”

“Why haven’t you told them?”

“Why all the questions, Fibber on the Roof? Since when do you care about anything I do?”

Janus was quiet, breathing out a frustrated breath before folding down the bottom of his gloves, the same gloves that Roman taunted daily for making him look like every single Disney villain, the same gloves that made Roman turn to the rest of the group and insist that the guy was hiding something. Turns out he was right.

“My timer’s out too. I was too young to remember as well.”

Roman wasn’t able to respond, and Janus was surprisingly relieved. The silent solidarity in the other’s eyes was enough of an olive branch, just another thing they had in common. It was a pain the others didn’t understand, a frustration that couldn’t be fixed. So if from that point on, the bickering lessened and they finally allowed their shared interests to overlap, they surely wouldn’t be the ones to bring it up.

That’s how they found themselves, almost half a year later, sitting on the swings of a musty playground near Janus’ house, watching the sunset in an unspoken agreement to put off going back until absolutely necessary. It was just another thing they had in common; shitty home life. They didn’t talk about it much, because they knew how much it sucked to discuss, so they let the facts stand at the forefront and the nitty gritty emotions and smaller mental repercussions stay healthily buried. What did it matter? Their parents were awful, ‘nuff said.

“I just think it’s ridiculous, the amount of time he spent writing it.”

“He wrote and composed an entire play single handedly, J! Not a single word of it is dialogue, and it all rhymes! You try doing that in seven years.”

“I’m just saying, doesn’t it come to the point where you have to admit it’s too much work? Did he even know for a fact it would be successful?”

“He made it work, didn’t he? That’s what faith is for.”

“I wouldn’t have done it.”

“That’s what makes Lin Manuel Miranda a god, and you, a worm.”

Janus gasped and raised a mock hand to his chest, drawing a loud laugh from Roman. While the shorter of the two still wore his gloves daily, the other had slowly gained the confidence to wear short sleeves and display his empty timer, though god help the fool who asked him anything about it. The conversation with the group had gone well, though Jan hadn’t admitted that his situation was the same. They hadn’t known him as long, and they both agreed that it was a sensitive topic. Roman didn’t push him.

“The sun’s setting.”

“I had no idea,” Janus smirked, although the implications of the fast approaching darkness made a pit settle in his stomach.

“We don’t have to leave yet. I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I don’t really get in trouble that often,” The shorter murmured, kicking his feet in the dust under him, “She’s more just... forgetful. Ignorant. I’m not even sure she fully knows I exist all the time.”

Roman raised an eyebrow at the first bit of information he’d learned about Janus’ home life, besides knowing it was just ‘bad’. He was debating between quietly prodding him to continue or to just let it sit when Janus made the choice for him.

“The other day she asked me to go to the liquor store for her and literally didn’t believe me when I said I’m only eighteen. Then again, she’s forgotten my birthday for the last, what, ten years? So I guess she just lost track, got ahead of herself. I don’t know.”

“When’s your birthday?” It was the only response Roman could think of.

“August seventh,” He whispered, almost like it was a dark secret he was scared to admit.

“Wait, actually?”

Janus turned to him, eyebrows furrowed, “Yeah?”

“You’re joking. This is a joke, right?”

“I can probably find my birth certificate if you need proof. Why are you losing your shit?”

“That’s my birthday too!”

Janus matched Roman’s face splitting grin with one of his own, his worries slipping away. They’d all been irrational anyways, so good riddance. He quickly settled his face into a more neutral one, the unusual expression hurting his cheeks. A calm air settled between them as their eyes locked, almost in a trance, before Janus snapped out of it and turned his attention to the pink hues of the dimming sky.

“What are the chances?”

There was a lot Roman didn’t know about the newest member of the friend group, he realized after dropping Janus off at home and starting the walk back to his. Usually he’d pop in his earbuds, taking the longest back roads and detours to put off arriving even more, but today his head was lost in his thoughts. What else didn’t he know about the blond boy he was so infatuated with?

Two weeks later, Janus edged the front door of his house open, calling out a tentative “Mom?” before pushing it open all the way and pulling Roman in. There was no answer through the empty halls so he yanked the taller boy upstairs, praying that his mom wasn’t home instead of just ignoring his call. It wasn’t until he shut his bedroom door and leaned heavily against it did he remember to breathe, meeting Roman’s eyes shakily.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it. Parent’s are…”

“Yeah. It’s better if she doesn’t know you’re here.”

Roman nodded, finally looking around the room. One wall was completely adorned with old records, some cracked in places or missing pieces entirely. He found himself drawn to it, running a finger down the closest one to him as Janus collapsed on his bed, ruffling the yellow blanket beneath him. He took a moment to pull off his gloves, revealing his soulmark, a secret that only Roman had the honor of seeing. An old jukebox stood proudly in the corner, covered in a fine layer of dust.

“You definitely have an aesthetic,” Roman hummed, taking notes on the implications of the dust and not approaching the old machine. If Janus didn’t touch it, neither should he. Instead he sat down at the other’s desk, spinning himself lazily in the chair.

“It was all my dad’s old stuff. He loved music and antiques a lot. The record player was his, too.”

He followed Janus’ gaze and nodded, overly tempted to take one of the records from the wall and trying to play it, but knowing that would only end badly. The record player was covered in the same thin sheet of dust.

“Holy Hera, is that a baby picture of you?” His mind, apparently unable to stay on one topic for more than ten seconds, had decided to focus on the framed picture on the bedside table. He crossed the room and sat next to Janus on the bed, leaning closer to the photo but not daring to touch it. He inspected the woman, who could only be Janus’ mother, holding the tiny bundle and smiling weakly at the camera, her eyes tired and hair tied in a messy bun.

“Yeah,” Janus rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “That’s the only picture I have with her. She hates cameras, always said she was self conscious and shit. It sucks that the only one I have, I don’t even remember taking.”

Roman knew he should respond to the surprisingly vulnerable statement, but his eyes had zeroed onto the still slightly slimy, wrinkly baby in the photo. Its little fists were tucked against his face, eyes closed peacefully, a moment of bliss that time forgot. That’s not what caught his attention, though. He squinted, edging just that much closer to the photo.

“You were born at Jacob Banks Memorial Hospital? I thought you lived in Chicago before you moved out here.” The tiny golden embroidery in the edge of the blanket was just focused enough to make out, as if he didn’t have an identical blanket at home, stashed under his bed in a box of other memories that were too special to throw away. He’d run his finger over the stitching a hundred times, reread the words and committed the blanket to memory, just for that high of simple childhood. And now, here was Janus as a baby, swaddled in the same blanket.

From the same hospital.

From the same day.

“Yeah. My parents were visiting relatives in town when my mom went into early labor. We didn’t end up actually moving here until a couple years ago.” Janus didn’t seem to notice the gears turning in Roman’s head as he reached forward, plucking the picture off the table and bringing it closer to his face. He tapped the glass, just above baby Janus’ arms.

“Right there, my timer. It’s just a few minutes left. I met my soulmate as a baby and no one cared enough to check who it was.”

“Janus.”

“I called the hospital as soon as I was old enough to comprehend, but they said they couldn’t help me. Didn’t have a record of anything to do with soulmates. Some help, huh.”

“Janus!”

“What? I’m trying to be melodramatic, Roman.”

“That’s the same hospital I was born in.”

“Okay? It’s the only one in town, I’m not overly surprised-” The lightbulb went off, and his head jerked up. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.”

They both were quiet for a moment, like the whole house was holding it’s breath, before Janus finally spoke, his voice a choked whisper. “Imagine with me, if you will,” he murmured, taking the picture and inspecting it closely. Not so much for sake of searching for details he wouldn’t have missed the hundreds of hours he spent inspecting the photo, more so just to avoid looking at the person beside him. “Two babies, born in the same place on the same day, put into the same small hospital nursery. They see each other, and click, their timers are out. Except both their parents don’t give a flying rat’s ass-”

“And so they never realize they met, and live their entire lives shrouded in mystery,” Roman finished quietly, suddenly terrified of the new ice they were walking on.

“Hypothetically, of course.”

His head snapped up and the spell was broken, meeting Janus’ pale eyes and jumping to his feet, flapping his hands to dispel his nervous energy. “Okay. Okay! That could… that could make sense! All signs point that way, right?” He began to pace the length of Janus’ room, head tilted towards the ceiling, “And I mean, god, I’ve liked you for how long now? So I’m definitely not upset!”

“You’ve what?”

“Alright, so we can call the hospital, or go there, or something! I’m sure they can tell us how many babies were born that day, that doesn’t seem like confidential information, right? And if it was just us three, you, me, and Remus, then that’ll settle it!”

“Wait, no, Roman, stop!”

Janus launched himself at Roman before he could click the call button on the Google search of the hospital, already dedicated to his plan. He ripped the phone from his grasp and tossed it onto the bed after pressing the power button, grabbing Roman’s hands tightly.

“Jan, what the hell? That’s the only way we’re going to know for sure if we’re-”

“But what if we’re not?!”

The two settled into silence after the outburst, searching each other’s faces intently. They both shared scared expressions, eyes wide with excitement and nervousness, the possibility of years worth of questions finally being answered. The promise that their two soulmarks weren’t dysfunctional, weren’t broken, and fate that had led them together one way or another.

But what if they weren’t?

“What if it’s a coincidence? What if you find out that your mom checked out before mine even got there, or our paths never could have crossed, or there were twenty babies born that day and there’s no sure way to know that we are each other’s soulmates? What if you find out that your soulmark said two years and mine ran out with someone else completely?”

“You’re starting to sound like Virgil,” Roman said quietly, almost fondly, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

“Roman, if you’re my soulmate, I’d be elated,” Janus’ hushed tone matched his, “But I don’t know what I’ll do if I build my hope and then find out it’s not true.” They were quiet again, and Janus was suddenly hyper aware that he was still holding Roman’s hands, a furious blush rising to his cheeks. He fought the urge to look away, look anywhere other than Roman’s bright eyes, because this was the closest they’d ever been and he was scared one flinch might break the charm they were in.

“We don’t have to check,” the taller whispered, “If you are, I’m content just… believing it.”

“You always were a cheesy romantic.” The phrase was meant to be cutting, but the uncontainable grin across his face greatly lessened its impact.

“I’m a Disney lover, what can I say?”

Janus snorted, dropping his head on to Roman’s shoulder, his heart nearly stopping altogether when the taller boy wrapped his arms around him and pulled them a step closer together. “So we’re agreeing on this? That we’re soulmates?” His voice was muffled against Roman’s shirt.

“As far as I’m concerned, yes. Fuck the system, right?”

“Overthrow the government. Commit arson in the name of anarchy. Society is a prison.”

“Dramatic, and that’s coming from me,” Roman drawled, rocking them back and forth slowly, dancing to unheard music, “Hey, Janus?”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

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