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#as well as the concept of defying fate
reginrokkr · 1 month
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𝐗𝐕. It is no exaggeration to say that Jué is everything to someone like Jinhsi, whose growth is far from any other person due to a lack of parents or parental figures in her life. When she had yet to have the first suspicions about the dead infant of the stories of Mt. Firmament being her, Jué was there for her in mind and spirit, teaching her and sharing with her its own life in bits and pieces that wouldn't deter her from her maximum growth potential it had first seen when their resonance reverberated in unison before she passed away. Its way of teaching her about the world and to transmit with time that future responsibility she would have, of a sacred duty towards human gave her ethereal insights of a bigger picture in comparison to more mundane and humane, equally as important perspective from other mentors she had in her life such as Xinyi and Changli.
Despite lacking a physical presence in her life for most of the time, their connected consciousness allowed it to soothe her from her nightmares and inner struggles every time like a most special treasure that would continue to be even in the moment of their confrontation when Jué put Jinhsi's safety above its own life.
When the tales of the dead infant manifested as a reality true to her own past and with it, the realization that Jué hid its suffering from her for the past decades, it didn't become any different from what it already was for her. With that discovery came eternal gratitude for reviving her even at the cost of a Temporal Program and everything that would entail its loss of entire control over the Temporal Mandate, but also that of grief and regret for being unable to perceive earlier its struggles after it has helped her overcome her own every time.
Jinhsi is aware of Jué's kindness towards her in its choice to freeze the entirety of Jinzhou at the detriment of its own life with hopes for the future that it'll be saved, and it is not out of some manner of defiance towards a figure that had given so much for her and that was about to consume itself in its entirety to keep her safe, but because she wanted to give Jué a chance to life just the way it did for her when her strength gave up on her in her infancy. For this reason, responsible as she has always been with the powers she bore since she was a child, after her Second Resonance Awakening she works tirelessly to master her powers as she would for the first time —now that they encompass much more and their influence is significantly higher than they were before— so one day she may restore Jué's health to completion.
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cosycafune · 4 months
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ENGRAVED VIRGIN!
usually, king sukuna treats you with dearest respect, but after you plotted against him, a barely restrained thread of his snaps. who are you to recklessly defy him, especially after he’s given you everything? therefore, he has to teach your virgin self a lesson.
synopsis of acts: breasts slapping, wounding, creampie, virginity loss, degrading, size different, sadism, clit slapping, humiliation, getting caught, breeding kink, threats of pregnancy, mouth being stuffed with panties, light bondage, crying, sensitivity, rough sex, bleeding after sex, and angst. not proofread.
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— ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩 —
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“Repeat what you said, brat,” Lord Sukuna orders with an impenetrable amount of revulsion.
“‘K-Kuna! I didn’t mean it—”
Smack.
Incapable of stopping your lulling head, tears brim within your glassy eyes at Sukuna spanking your tingly breasts. Even while the thickness of his angry cock kisses your clit, Lord Sukuna casts his insatiable crimson eyes upon your weeping frame.
If you had sealed your lips, while he planned the death of a so-called traitor, you wouldn’t have discovered yourself so degraded. Degraded, tied, loosely gagged with your balled up underwear, littered with scratch marks and welled up pain within your aching limbs.
Everything within you was terrified, unsure of whether you were going to be able to handle Sukuna’s fullness. After all, you had never bedded a man before — simply remaining oblivious until Lord Sukuna captured you within this given moment.
“You brought this on yourself, you ungrateful girl,” Sukuna lowly spits out, applying an ample slap upon your cunt. Your cunt before your nimble body recoils, your eyes jittering whilst your throbbing worsens.
“N-No!” Whining with insubordination, you carefully writhe around — attempting to push your supple thighs together.
“You’d think I’d let you and your pure self go? I want to ruin you,” Enthralled, Sukuna’s cunning eyes twist with his impatient, reckless and womanising preaching.
“Y-You’ll break me, Ryo,” Muttering for dear life, you observe Lord Sukuna’s lustful yet pensive gaze.
“You’re not a mere weakling, my cock will not break you,” Cockily, Sukuna informs you.
Gasping, your body’s decency collapses the moment Sukuna’s swiftly pushes his needy cock tip against your barely visible cunt. The unfathomable tension completely ripped at your resolve, especially as just Sukuna’s tip left you feeling incredibly nauseous — plunged with the unfamiliar sensation.
Sukuna’s bound to mark you, reform you and restructure you. You knew this the moment you were swayed into serving beneath him, by another legendary jujutsu sorcerer — and you reluctantly agreed. Inevitably, drawn by complex fate, you ponder on the concept of being sexually dominated by a man who’s defined as a murderer.
“I-It hurts!” Wailing, your breaths shorten as Lord Sukuna burrows himself painfully further within you. Within you as your eyes swell with tears, your soppy cunt incapable of handling his log of a cock.
His cock is monstrous, inhumane and far from tedious.
“You’ll take it!” Lord Sukuna’s sharp fingers burrow within your nimble thighs, subconsciously drawing blood as you writhe around, “How dare you be ungrateful, after everything I did for you.”
“Ryo—”
“This is the least you could do for me, letting me engrave you,” Sukuna unleashes his cunning proposal, his sculpted hips forcing more of his monstrous cock in your overwhelmed cunt.
“N-Never had cock before, Ryo,” Sobbing, completely light-headed and vaginally moulded, your pleading eyes greet the stoic dominance within his reigning own.
“You have now, so you can learn to handle the pain,” In disbelief, your lips widen as your moan of aching rips through the distorted ambience.
“H-How can you be so heartless?” Hiccuping with worded grief, subtle softness overtakes Lord Sukuna — pushing him into pinning a squirming you down.
“Did you not tell my maid that you wanted to leave?” Sukuna questions with ample grunts, experimentally bucking his carved hips within you.
Pulverised, you’re left breathless — your lung capacity dimmed at Sukuna’s extreme deepness within you. Everything within you feared this extent of his consensual cruelty, particularly with his threatening stomach bulge fitted so closely besides your ready-to-be-breed womb.
“Because you’re cruel!” Loathing Lord Sukuna’s lack of empathy and selflessness, you spew your words as Sukuna gifts you a gentle kiss.
Your first kiss, and a kiss that contrasts his harsh demeanour and being.
“You knew that, but you still stayed,” Attentive, Sukuna counters your point. Counters your point while he silently questions if you’re ready to move, only to take notice of your obsolete yes.
“Look at you now—” Cock-stuffed, your mind blanks the moment Sukuna performs his inhuman thrusts. Thrusts that kiss upon your brutalised walls, leaving you to choke out moans with a cursing Lord Sukuna.
“H-Hurts s-so good! Ah! Yes!” Reciting mewls of incomprehensible pleasure, your eyes roll back harder at Sukuna smacking his hips against the base of your overwhelmed cunt.
“If I ruin you like this, you’re going to always come back to me,” Sukuna hums through his lewd whimpers and groans, yearning for you to hear his passively whimper.
“It isn’t care if you want to ruin me for you,” Yelling in pain, you struggle to breathe with Sukuna further burrowing the pattern of his nails into your roughened up hips.
“I’ll impregnate you, just so your ex-virgin self can have something more worthy than your stupid escape plan,” Sukuna plants himself into exclaiming, roughly slapping your clammed nipple — in hopes of crushing your inexperienced self.
“You’re not making it out of these bondage ropes,” Angrily speaking, Sukuna shoves your underwear further into your mouth — gleefully slapping your ample, jiggly boobs.
“Mhm! Ah!” Moaning against your will, exhaustion tints you as Lord Sukuna wraps his hands around your throat — pounding into your adjusting cunt with an inhumane nature.
“I don’t care if you’re a good jujutsu sorcerer, you’re never leaving this place,” Harshening his thrusts, Sukuna maniacally glances down at your disheartened eyes.
“Whatever I want, I get it,” Sukuna motions to you, glancing down at your soppy cunt creaming against his thick cock.
Just the way the fatness of it made you look puny imposed happiness over him. In this moment, he rules you with his massive cock — it’s largeness barely contained in your cunt. But even so, Sukuna looking down at your cunt, watching you take him in so good made him know that you’re engraved by him.
“Dwfm!” Unplugging your succulent lips, Sukuna grants you the will to speak, “D-Did I just—”
“You came even though you know you can’t do anything before me, therefore I have to cum in you and teach you a lesson,” Sukuna grunts out with an animalistic nature, pounding into you as if his reign upon his kingdom is reliant on your warm, pulsating cunt being submissive by letting him fill your womb with his royal seed.
“S-So fast!” At your scarcely phrased pleasure and cries of virgin discomfort, your fingers itch for Sukuna to at least come to a somewhat stop. However, your gentle fingers are weakened by his extremely powerful thrusts that consistently form a dangerous bulge in your toned stomach.
“You won’t be a soldier anymore, I’ll use you till the point I get you so pregnant and swole, you’ll be too busy caring for our young kin to ever leave.” Warm and conflicted at Sukuna’s truthful plan, you feel him eradicate your cunt and structure it so it obeyed him in the way your mouth wouldn’t.
“S-So…selfish!” Turned on by your tears of sadness, betrayal, Sukuna’s sadistic persona displays itself. Sukuna continues to demolish your Mac and cheese imitating cunt, listening to the extremely loud squelching that your male colleagues could hear.
“All your stupid colleagues are out there, listening to their grand knight getting fucked by the merciless king that they all complain about!” Sukuna chuckles at embarrassment consumes a breathless, squelching and a freely mewling you.
“This pussy’s to die for!” Bellowing, Sukuna heightens your mortification. Overwhelmed with pleasure, moaning and grunting with unrelenting noise, with you, Sukuna slams thick cock against your cunt, his pace so superhuman pieces of the bed begin to cave in.
“Yes! Yes! Ah! Mhm! Hot!” Pleading through mindless moans, your breathing and lightheadedness exceed you with Sukuna thrusting to the point his thick, heavy balls beat against the bottom of your soppy cunt.
“I’m going to cum all inside of you and call the grand knights in here to see how you’re engraved,” Sukuna excitingly says, pressing on your neck while he burrows his deepest — a faint, dirty moan flees your parted lips.
“Ryo’, mhm! Ahhh!” Clouded, your bratty voice completely floods the room — contorting the duality of your usual self.
“I’m going to mould you into what I want,” Pussy-whipped, Sukuna’s groggy statement is contrasted by his energetic cock straining before filling your unused womb with the thick portion of his cum.
The king’s load.
“N-No,” Unwilling to serve as nothing but Sukuna’s cock reliever, you gasp with him pulling out of you. Pulling out of you before an accidental load of his lands upon your rising abdomen, in between your perky breasts and face.
“Defiled, you’re better,” Sukuna speaks in a stern voice, using a small fraction of his cursed technique to open the door — revealing a singular knight of your own.
“N-No way!” The knight mutters and faints, leaving you to shift your head to the side with the embarrassment Lord Sukuna’s putting you through.
You were known as a virgin, so being taken by someone so evil struck something within them.
“You’re bleeding, but it’s better that I got to you first instead of another man,” Sukuna retorts, basking in the chaos of you hyperventilating at the blood that entwines with his cum trickling out of your cunt.
“I’m sore, and it hurts,” Unable to move, feeling your lower region throbbing and weirdly swollen, Sukuna’s eyes simply darken at the whiny innocence of you.
“That’s your punishment, so say fairwell to your grand knight position soon,” Degrading you, Sukuna chuckles — gleeful with the intimate art he had structured.
“I’ll end everything before I have your child out of spite, Ryomen Sukuna,” Spitting it out, you roll your eyes at the lack of empathy he holds towards you once being a virgin at just nineteen.
More by more, Lord Sukuna knew he was going to break you and engrave you with nothing more than him and his cum.
Engraved.
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do not copy, translate or repost my work on any other platform. everything here is written by me, so all rights are reserved. cosycafune, 2024.
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wonusite · 10 months
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Sweet Dreams
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❝ You dream about a beautiful man nearly every time you fall asleep. After getting to know him and everything about him, you see him outside of your dreams—in a museum painting. ❞
PAIRING: joshua hong x female reader
GENRE: vampire au, reincarnation au, angst, smut
WORD COUNT: 10.1k
WARNINGS: vampire!joshua, human!reader, lucid dreaming, reincarnation, so much yearning, mentions of death, joshua is a brooding mess, protective!minghao, unprotected sex, blood play, biting, creampies
A/N: this has been long overdue, and i hope you guys like it! loosely based off this ask. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Fate.
A simple word that holds more power and venerability than any ruler of the middle kingdom. It’s a mystifying concept that follows no rules and simply is; something that can actively be changed but not avoided. Joshua learns this late in his long life—a derailment of his own making. The lesson comes to him in the form of a fiery witch running from her death.
As a creature that’s lived in solitude since he became immortal, it’s not in his nature to be helpful. It’s why he has no interest in saving the witch from the demons that are hunting her. This, however, doesn’t stop the insolent little witch from forcing herself into his sanctuary. He fights her on it, baring his fangs while saying the most despicable and bone chilling threats to her. The young witch isn’t fazed and makes it clear that he doesn’t have a choice in the matter.
In the end, he concedes. Not because she’s powerful enough to make him obey her, but because she reminds Joshua of himself when he was desperately clinging to his own survival. Perhaps that’s the reason he becomes inexplicably drawn to her. Josh almost feels like she’s bewitched him, and the most unusual part of it all is that he doesn’t care even if that is the case.
He seeks her out after he helps her despite knowing that it can’t possibly end well. Their kinds don’t mix, and it’s doubtful that two abominations can share something as sacred and beautiful as love. Fate has never allowed it before, but Joshua is foolish enough to try to defy destiny.
Courting the witch isn’t easy. Then again, anything that involves her never is. The witch is a firm believer in being reverent to the same fates that gave her the powers she wields while Joshua couldn’t care less about the fates that turned him into a monstrosity. This creates a disconnect between them because the witch is firm that she could never love such an irreverent creature.
This hardly deters him. Joshua is relentless in his chase, and after the longest decade of his life he’s finally able to win the witch’s thorn-covered heart.
And so, even just for the briefest moments, they’re allowed to create their own destiny with each other.
Loving someone, loving her, is the most addicting feeling he’s ever felt. The love he feels for the witch surpasses even that of his first love who he was convinced he’d never forget. Being with her is the happiest Joshua has ever felt, and he naively thinks it’ll last forever.
This all comes to an abrupt end when the witch finds out that it’s his fault the demons eradicated her coven. Yes, it was before Josh had met and fell in love with her, but that doesn’t change anything. It was still him who had put her on the brink of death and gotten her family and friends killed. Twisted as it is, he doesn’t regret his actions nor would he change them if he had an opportunity to do so.
And so, the love of his life becomes his most dangerous enemy.
It hurts. More so because she discards him and his love like they never meant anything in the first place.
The witch is cutthroat in her hatred. It’s not long before the children of the moon find his sanctuary and nearly send him to meet his maker. Her hexes nearly incapacitate him, but even all her acts of revenge aren’t enough to satiate the vengeance she seeks.
Slowly, the love they grew to feel for each other becomes wilted and corroded beyond repair.
Years pass, yet the feud never dies. Joshua is almost impressed by her determination to destroy him the same way he almost destroyed her.
Hatred has replaced love by now, and it’s almost impossible for him to believe he ever loved the witch in the first place. A decade passes, then two and three until eventually an entire century goes by with the two of them feeling this burning loathing. Their detrimental feelings and behavior push both Joshua and the witch to make a vow never to love again.
But fate has other plans for them.
As time goes on, they find themselves backed into a corner—together this time. Death has returned for them in the form of faes. Neither one of them is willing to relent and give up their land to the insignificant creatures who claimed to have it first. And so, they help each other one last time.
Fighting against inferior creatures together has always been like dancing for them, and it’s easy to fall back into a love language they created. By the end of their battle, they come out victorious. The two are grateful to each other even if neither of them say it outright.
Joshua feels a familiar ache in his chest the longer he stares at the witch who was once his. Feelings he thought were long gone rush back to the surface as if they’d never left in the first place. Perhaps they never really had. He’s never been one to go against his own desires, and so he reaches out for her, craving her skin against his if even for the last time.
Their embrace is sweet, but the kiss that follows is full of passion, longing, and ardent love that seems to have been buried deep within them the entire time. It’s almost like a dream to have her like this again, and now Joshua doesn’t plan on letting her go.
But once again, fate doesn’t leave him with a choice.
Humans grow more wary of the creatures they share the world with. Many go into hiding, but Joshua makes the mistake of thinking he can blend in with his prey. A hunter of his kind has found him, and as a vampire with no coven, he’s left vulnerable. It’s even worse when the hunter and his clan discover his lover and what she is.
It was a peaceful night when they’re attacked. Escaping death doesn’t seem possible, but as always the witch assured him that she has a solution. His love makes him a promise as she casts a spell that will hide his presence. A promise that she’ll find him and reunite with him in every lifetime. He’s confused by her words, but has no time to question her as the spell takes over and dulls his senses until he’s unconscious.
If he’d known his love was going to sacrifice herself for him, he would’ve taken a million wooden stakes to the heart rather than continue existing in a world without her.
Centuries later, he’s never been able to forget her or what her presence had done to his life. Joshua is left alone in a world that now seems intolerable without his witch in it. Cruel irony reminds him that the solitude he once basked in feels suffocating now. All he’s left with is a gaping hole that constantly reminds him of how he lost his one true love.
Joshua eventually joins a coven, but they offer little comfort. At this point in his immortality, he only sticks around them out of habit. It’s not that he isn’t fond of them—he is, most of the time—but it’s not the same as having his lover by his side.
After going through the eternal test of time, Joshua still yearns for her; craves her as much as the blood that he feeds on. It’s the reason he’s spent the last two centuries looking for the one person who filled his heart with so much love.
And he’ll stop at nothing until he finds her.
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The first time it happened, you thought it was nothing more than a dream.
Which it was, but it felt different—it was different. Never in your life had you dreamt such a beautiful dream that felt so real and almost indistinguishable from reality. The most memorable part was the euphoric feeling it evoked from you.
Well, that’s not exactly right. There was one single element that had left you unable to forget the lucid dream. One that you believed was responsible for your subconscious forcing you into those dreams every time you fell asleep.
Unhealthy as it is, you chase the lucid dreams. Every night, you look forward to your sleep with the hope of once again being wrapped up in one of those lovely dreams. Any free time you’re left with is used to sleep just so you can escape to the ethereal dreamland your mind has created.
The dreams have ensnared you and make you crave and long for them as if you’re under some sort of spell. It’s become a bit of an obsession because even when you’re with other people it’s all you can think about. And yet you’re unable to let go of your obsession in spite of how unhealthy and irrational it is.
The scene in front of you is familiar, but you can’t place where you’ve seen the old castle that looks like it’s straight out of the medieval times. You step forward, feet moving on their own as you walk past the large doors. Servants run along with their head down, and you’re not sure why it makes you feel satisfied that they seem to be terrified of you.
“Y/N.”
You turn at the sound of a mellifluous voice. Once again, it’s the beautiful man who’d been visiting you in your dreams.
“Shua.” You call affectionately, running to him as he opens his arms for you.
As always, he catches you easily. You wrap your arms around his neck, softly giggling into his hair as he spins you around. “Where have you brought me this time?”
“This is where I live.” He tells you as you pull back to look at his face. “Do you like it?”
You look around again. The feeling of familiarity doesn’t go away as you inspect your surroundings. Joshua gently puts you down, but doesn’t release you from his embrace. His stare is gentle and observant, curious on how you’re going to react to what he’s showing you.
“This is really where you live?” You wonder in awe. “Are you a king or something?”
His pretty laugh makes you look back at him. Your heart leaps up into your throat when you see the fond look he’s giving you. It’s been months of being on the receiving end of his affectionate stare, but you’re not sure you’ll stop feeling bashful when you catch it.
“I am not. Does that disappoint you?”
You shake your head. “No, but it does make me wonder how old you actually are. Older than Dracula?”
All Josh can do is laugh and laugh. You’re not sure what he finds so funny, but as usual you do not get the chance to ask. The familiar pressure on your bones gets more intense with every passing moment. It’s how you know you’re on the verge of being pulled out of your blissful dream. You can’t even open your mouth to say goodbye because you’re abruptly yanked out of your subconscious before you can.
It’s always hard to keep going on with your day normally after you dream about Josh. You can never really function afterwards, not how you usually would.
“—even listening to me?”
You snap back into reality, realizing that Jeonghan has been talking to you this entire time. “Sorry. What were you saying?”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes and gives you an accusatory look that confuses you. His eyebrows are raised as he leans forward. “I was saying that Soonyoung thinks you’re fucking someone.”
“What?” You splutter, suddenly feeling extremely flustered.
“I told him there’s no way that’s true because lately you’ve been holed up in your room sleeping every chance you get!”
You manage to not choke on your spit and give your friend an indignant glare. “Both you and Soonyoung need to worry about your own sex lives.”
The gleam in his eye changes, and you realize too late that you’ve made a mistake. “Wait. Are you actually fucking someone?”
“You know I’m not!” You hiss, starting to feel embarrassed.
Clearly, Jeonghan doesn’t believe you. He stares at you before something seems to click in his head. Your nervous stare and angry pout are telltale signs of deceit. His jaw drops a bit as he lets out an affronted squeak.
“No way. That’s why you’ve been in such a good mood lately!” He says with a conniving laugh. “And here I thought that night cream I recommended is the reason you’ve been glowing lately.”
Maybe the most embarrassing part about this is not that he’s trying to discuss your sex life (or lack thereof) at the local cafe and not wine night, but the fact that this alleged glow has nothing to do with a man—not a real one, anyway. But Jeonghan doesn’t need to know that.
“You would’ve heard me if that was true.”
Jeonghan’s ears slowly turn red as he pouts in disappointment. He really hoped you’d managed to break your three month long dry spell, and he also wanted to be right. It’s almost suspicious that he isn’t because he usually is. You’ve been a little too smiley lately like you have some hidden lover.
“If you say so.” He mutters bitterly.
This would be the point where you’d usually panic since Yoon Jeonghan can never be one to let anything go if he feels like he’s right. You feel at ease though because there’s no way he could ever find out about Josh.
“By the way… you’re definitely going to be gone this weekend, right?” Jeonghan suddenly asks in a tone you recognize all too well.
You try not to gag as you nod. “Yes. I already bought the tickets and Hao is in the city setting up his apartment so I have a place to stay while I’m up there.”
Jeonghan smirks victoriously. He nods, not even trying to hide how pleased he is as he pulls out his phone. Suddenly, he’s very grateful that you and Minghao have such an interest in history. When he’s done sending a message you would definitely call sleazy, he just laughs at your disgusted expression.
“Don’t give me that look. Not all of us have to practice celibacy like you.”
“Whatever.” You scoff with a roll of your eyes. “Just keep it in your room this time. I better not find any stains on the couch when I get back.”
He only laughs at you with a promise that you can’t think of as sincere.
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“Are you playing with your food again?”
The voice sounds distant as Joshua is gently pulled out of the trance he’s used to being in now. He slow blinks, remnants of the beautiful vision still clear in his mind. Junhui’s words don’t bother him like they usually would’ve. Not when he finally feels alive for the first time in centuries. Still, he can’t control the annoyance he feels that his brother thinks this subject is something that can be joked and talked about lightly.
“You and Soonyoung are the only heathens who play with food.” Joshua’s tone is clipped, bordering on that murderous one that pops up any time someone mentions his latest obsession.
Junhui only laughs, head cocking to the side in interest. “I’m curious. Did you really find the grand love of your life, or is it just some girl who happens to look like her?”
“His obsession wouldn’t be so profound if it was a girl who merely looks like her.” Comes a voice from the top of the grand stairs.
They look up to see the oldest and the youngest of the coven coming down the stairs. Soonyoung doesn’t bother to hide his amused smirk while Minghao wears the same impassive expression he had when Joshua met him. His lack of reaction is the reason why he’s often the voice of reason in the coven, but his callous way of speaking never offers any comfort.
“Our brother is looking for the soul of his beloved—a soul that cannot be replicated nor imitated. Even if he’s to find her doppelgänger, he will not love her completely or sincerely.” Minghao says he takes a seat near the burning fireplace.
Soonyoung sits on the other end of the couch before he raises an eyebrow at Josh. He lets out a mocking snicker. “It’s giving stalker.”
As the most recently turned, their youngest has developed a proclivity for imitating the current slang. Joshua understands it (to an extent), but finds it folly. Then again, he doesn’t think its ridiculous when that person uses it.
But of course, that’s different.
Josh doesn’t bother to sneer at him for his snide remark. As a creature who hasn’t found a mate in the entire century he’s been alive, Soonyoung couldn’t possibly understand the ardent need to be close to the person chosen to be your mate.
“You still haven’t answered my question.” Junhui points out, sounding almost bored now. “Have you found her? Your one true love?”
When Joshua smiles, it’s so pretty that even Minghao can’t help but stare. “I have.”
“Are you going to turn her?”
Soonyoung’s question hangs in the air, and as much as Josh wants to hiss at him to mind his own business, he sees how Junhui and Minghao are also looking at him. Turning someone isn’t as simple as it used to be—if it could ever be considered simple. Now there were too many factors and too many risks involved.
“I have to find her physically before I can think of anything else.” Josh sighs deeply.
“Brother.” Minghao says in his serious tone. “Think of your next moves carefully. You’ve found her reincarnation, but she doesn’t remember you, and there’s no guarantee that she ever will.”
For once, the younger ones don’t say anything teasing or goading. They look at him just as solemnly as Minghao is. It’s a harsh truth that Joshua had acknowledged long ago but not fully accepted.
His love doesn’t remember him. This is a fact.
But even if she never does, he doesn’t plan on letting her go. Not again.
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“You’re unhappy.”
The observation is astute, and even though it’s been months, you can’t get used to how easily Josh can see through you. It shouldn’t have the affect on you that it does, but there’s just something about having someone know you so well that makes your heart jerk with emotion. Part of you feels insane for feeling this way because this man is just a figment of your imagination created by your subconscious.
Josh smiles placatingly when he sees your pout. He’s sure that you’re not aware that you do it, which makes it all the more cute in his eyes.
“Work hasn’t been great lately.” You say honestly, only hesitating a moment before telling him the rest. “Also... Jeonghan set me up on this blind date. Which wouldn’t be a big deal, but I haven’t been on a date in forever.”
You’re not sure why it feels like you’re saying something absolutely heart wrenching. If you had to describe it, it’s almost like you’re admitting to cheating or something similar which is fucking insane since Josh isn’t your boyfriend—or real, for that matter.
There’s a shift in his kind eyes. A cold rage settles in the depths of his dark irises that makes you feel like you’re staring an evil creature in the face. Before you can ponder it, the expression is is gone so fast that you almost think you imagined it.
“You don’t have to go.” He finally says, and you wonder if he actually sounds like he’s pleading or if it’s just something your subconscious is hoping for.
A teasing smile stretches your lips. “Yeah? Should I just stay here with you, instead?”
Joshua wishes he could say yes. Stay with me and never leave my side again. The words are on the tip of his tongue, and even though he’s dying to say them, he knows he shouldn’t. In this lifetime and your previous one, he had to be patient when courting you. Clearly some things never changed.
“Don’t look so excited.” You joke when you see him hesitate.
His laugh is pretty and soft. You’re not sure why the sound comforts you in a way that almost feels familiar. As if that’s the one sound that could take away any horrible feeling you’ve ever experienced. The longer you listen to the dulcet sound, the more it makes your heart ache for a reason you can’t understand. It’s a type of yearning that feels deeper than the normalcy of seeing him every day.
“I wish you weren’t a dream.”
Joshua’s laughter dies down and the smile slips off his face at hearing your words. You almost regret saying them, but it’s too late to take them back. Not that you would since they’re the absolute truth. He knows you better than most of your friends do, and it’s hard not to feel this intense affection for him. The crazy part of it all is that you can literally feel how much he adores you too.
“Maybe you’re my dream.” Josh’s smile is full of longing and sadness.
Before you can respond, you’re abruptly pulled out of the dream by the blaring sound of a car horn. You startle awake, bleary vision belatedly registering that you’re now in the city. Minghao looks at you with wide eyes, a startled laugh slipping past his lips. “Are you okay?”
You nod wearily, taking a moment to shake of the intense emotions your dream had left you with. It’s clear that Minghao doesn’t fully believe you, but he doesn’t press the subject and keeps driving toward museum.
Being at the museum doesn’t help you as much as you hope. The artifacts and paintings are intriguing, but your irritating mind only keeps associating everything with Josh. He’s always talked like someone from another time so looking at ancient items and old paintings naturally makes you keep picturing his face.
“For someone who kept begging me to clear my schedule so we could come here, you don’t look very excited.”
You give Minghao a guilty look because you know how busy he is. “Sorry. I’m just kind of distracted.”
“And why is that?”
It’s not that you don’t trust Minghao. You do, but you can’t tell him that you’re infatuated with a man who shows up in your dreams.
“I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Your friend raises an eyebrow at you. As usual Minghao sees right through your half-truth. “You’ve been having nightmares?”
“Not exactly.” You say. The resolve to keep your secret quickly dissolved when Minghao gives you a look that somehow always compels you to do what he wants. “I can’t sleep because I keep dreaming of a guy.”
“A guy?” Minghao raises his eyebrows in a way that reminds you of Jeonghan.
“It’s not like that.” You say, skin heating up in embarrassment. “I don’t even think he’s real. He just keeps appearing in my dreams, and I feel crazy every time I think about him.”
Minghao doesn’t laugh or tell you you’re crazy. Instead he looks at you with a sharpened gaze that looks like it holds a certain amount of concern and something else you can’t discern. If his heart was capable of beating, his heart rate would’ve spiked at the information you told him.
You’re vague in your description (which was impressive because his gift is powerful enough to get people to admit to murder), but it’s enough to have his mind reeling. Is it possible that you’d fallen into the clutches of an incubus? Minghao isn’t overly fond of humans, but you’re different. He can’t let you become the prey of such a lascivious creature.
“I have some tea that’s good for sleeping." He says as normally as he can as you two walk along the museum. “When we get back to my place, I’ll give you some.”
You nod silently, not entirely sure if his teas will help with your lucid dreaming. Even if they did, it’s not like you want to stop seeing this imaginary man that makes you feel more loved than you ever had. But there’s a part of you that knows you can’t keep sleeping with the hopes of seeing Josh again.
The inner turmoil you’re feeling is interrupted when Minghao pulls you to the section he’d been dying to see from the beginning. His laughter immediately makes you come back down to earth. It’s not like your friend never laughs, but this one is full and louder than you’ve ever heard it. You’re not sure why he finds the painting of a duke so funny. Just as you’re about to question him, you see the painting and feel the world around you come to a stop.
It feels like your heart stopped beating and dropped down to your stomach. Your usually quiet mind is reeling, trying to fathom what you’re seeing. There’s no way.
The painting is of a man, but not just any man.
It’s Josh.
Your Josh.
You keep blinking as if another face will appear in the very old painting. If you felt crazy before, the feeling worsens the longer you stare at the oils that form the face you’ve come to memorize and love. The description of the painting says the man born in 1714 was a famous duke notorious for starting a rebellion against the crown.
“So this is the only painting of the Hong Jisoo?” Your friend cackles, but you’re not sure what’s so funny.
It’s good that he’s so distracted by whatever it is he finds so funny because you’re about two seconds away from breaking down. How is it possible that some duke from centuries ago was appearing in your dreams? Is it possible that you’d somehow seen his image before and projected it into your dreams? You don’t remember even reading about him, and it only makes you feel more crazy.
Back at Minghao’s luxury apartment, you can’t stop thinking about that stupid painting of Hong Jisoo. How is it possible for you to dream about a person that was alive centuries ago? It doesn’t make sense, and the more you think about it, the more freaked out you feel.
“Here.” Hao says as he hands you a warm mug of tea. “Drink it to see if it helps. I’ll give you some to take home if you like it.”
You thank him, really hoping this puts an end to your unhealthy dreams.
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“It’s not working!” Josh growls angrily. “There’s something blocking me from seeing her. I’m sure of it.”
Soonyoung and Junhui roll their eyes. Josh has been complaining about not being able to transcend into his true love’s subconscious for the last three hours, and it’s starting to drive them insane. It’s not that they’re not sympathetic, but it was quite literally the only thing the older vampire could talk about. Not to mention the fact that after months of visiting his mate every day, he did nothing to figure out where she was—a total waste in their opinion.
Before Josh can keep repeating the same frustrated things he’s been griping about all morning, they hear the door open and the familiar sound of boots clacking against the marble floor.
“Minghao!” Soonyoung cries when the oldest of the coven walks into the living room. “Finally, you’re back! Jisoo hasn’t stopped whining about his mate since you left! You need to put a stop to him!”
Minghao sets down his suitcases with an exhausted sigh. “What’s going on?”
“He claims there’s a barrier preventing him from entering his mate’s subconscious.” Junhui explains, sending a skeptical look Joshua’s way. “Which is impossible because a mere human isn’t capable of blocking his gift.”
While that is true, there are certain things humans have done for centuries to ward off creatures of the night. However, it is strange that there’s a sudden block to his mate’s subconscious after being left vulnerable for so many months.
“Perhaps your mate has realized that you’re a nefarious creature and not just a figment of her imagination.” Minghao muses as he goes to sit at his usual place by the fire. “If that’s the case, she may have sought out a witch to block her psyche from unsavory visitors.”
The dark look Josh sends his way is amusing to the rest. Maybe it’s cruel to disregard the anguish his brother clearly feels, but being empathetic has never been one of Minghao’s character traits. Even so, some of the humanity he once had still lingers within him.
“However, if you truly wish to find her I can contact Jihoon—”
“No.” Josh snaps immediately. The growl in his voice is menacing as his eyes darken. “I’ll find her on my own.”
The silence that follows is tense until Soonyoung breaks it by insisting on seeing pictures from Minghao’s trip. As always, he obliges to the youngest’s request, tossing his phone over without taking his eyes off Josh.
“If that were possible you would have already found her.”
It’s a frustrating truth. He hadn’t been able to figure out anything that would help him find you because he didn’t want to scare you off. Now he regrets playing the part of a gentleman because it feels like he’s lost you all over again.
“Is this the human you’re always talking about?”
Usually, Josh doesn’t take any interest in humans aside from his meals, but the way Minghao’s sharp gaze switches to an almost fond one intrigues him enough to look at the screen Soonyoung is holding out toward them.
It’s like his heartbeat comes back to life when he sees a video of a beautiful girl staring at one of his old swords.
“Yes. That’s—”
“Y/N.”
Minghao looks at Josh in surprise. He’s incredulous, but it’s soon replaced by horror when he realizes why his brother is looking at the phone with a predatory gaze.
“You…” Minghao’s icy tone makes the younger ones still. They recognize the murderous intent behind that tone instantly. “You’re the one who’s been invading her dreams.”
Josh snarls at his oldest friend. “You’re the one responsible for the barrier.”
It’s like watching two animals raising their hackles at one another. Except both of them are capable of destroying each other and everything around them without caring.
Junhui is quick to step in, holding a firm hand to Minghao’s chest. “She’s his mate.”
It’s meant to make him see reason, but all it does is anger Minghao.
“A mate that he betrayed time and time again!” His words make them all flinch. “You’re the reason those hunters found her and burned her alive!”
Never has a silence so thick and tense surrounded them before. It’s a low blow to bring up Josh’s greatest pain in such a way, but Minghao is beyond seeing reason at this point.
“Both of you need to calm down.” Soonyoung says as he stands in the middle.
“Do you have feelings for her?” Josh demands, not understanding why the person who had helped him search for his mate’s reincarnation for centuries was suddenly acting this way.
“She’s a pure soul.” Minghao says, sounding a little defeated. “One that doesn’t deserve to become a monster like us.”
It’s tense and silent again, but this time the air feels different. All four of them knew how painful and awful it was to turn. Back then, they had been the unlucky ones to survive an attack when they were meant to be someone’s food. Minghao wouldn’t wish that on anyone, least of all you.
“Let her decide.” Soonyoung breaks the silence, being reasonable for the first time in a long time. He looks to Josh, gaze as serious as ever. “If you really love her, tell her the truth and let her decide what to do.”
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Minghao has always been an enigma. He’s private to the point where you sometimes feel like you don’t know him at all. It’s why you’re so surprised when he invites you over to his main house which is basically synonymous with prohibited. He never invites anyone there, not even Jeonghan who’s known him longer than you have.
Your friend’s home is expectedly opulent and beautiful, but there’s also this ominous air surrounding it. Minghao remains silent as he leads you to the entrance. His somber attitude isn’t exactly uncharacteristic. He’s naturally quiet and serious, but right now he almost seems angry. You can tell his mind is far away, light years away even.
Before you can think to question him, he leads you to the living room and sits you down on one of the couches. His cold hands don’t move from your shoulders even after you’re seated. You look up at him in curiosity because he seems to be contemplating something.
“Don’t be angry with me.” His tone is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and you have to wonder what he’s done for him to plead with you like this. (Xu Minghao does not beg.)
Hands fall from your shoulders as Minghao side steps out of the way. Everything goes in slow motion from then on. He’s stepped out of the way to reveal a man who you recognize very well. Your heart jumps and starts to beat erratically as you take in his ethereal features.
What’s happening feels like a more intense version of what happened at the museum. Minghao’s friend(?) looks exactly like Josh. He even looks at you like Josh does.
“Y/N.”
The organ in your chest throbs at the sound because it’s so soft and pretty, just like it is in your dreams. He sounds so similar to Josh that you feel insane for wanting to run into this man’s arms like you always do with Josh in your dreams.
Your mind is a beat behind, and it’s only after this stranger called your name that you realize Minghao had apologized to you before he appeared. When you look over to your friend, he’s observing you carefully in a way you can’t understand.
“What’s going on? What is this?” You ask, feeling like you’ve been set up.
There’s a thick silence, and just when you contemplate on getting up to leave, the unknown guy falls to his knees in front of you.
“Please forgive me.”
Your eyes practically pop out of your head at the unsolicited apology. “I– What?”
The silence is uncomfortable, and you can only look back to Minghao for an explanation.
“You’ve seen Jisoo before—in your dreams.” Minghao says slowly as if it pains him to tell you.
Jisoo?
“When you told me that a man kept reappearing in your dreams, I thought you were being preyed on by an incubus.” Minghao chuckles bitterly. “But I was a fool not to see that the truth was much worse.”
“Incubus?” You whisper incredulously. “You mean those demons that fuck people while they’re asleep?”
Neither men react to your crude words. They’re looking at you solemnly as if Minghao didn’t just say something completely insane. None of it makes sense nor does it provide you with the explanation you demanded.
“You can’t be serious! Incubuses—“
“Incubi.” Minghao corrects you. He regrets it as soon as he sees the dark look on your face.
“—don’t exist.” You finish through gritted teeth.
“They’re not the only demons running rampant on this earth.” Minghao says as he shares a look with the man who is still kneeling in front of you. “Just look at the monster in front of you and you’ll know what I’m saying is true.”
This Jisoo guy looks nothing like a monster. Not even as he’s giving your friend the most withering glare you’ve ever seen.
“Don’t give me that look. I brought her here so she can know the truth.”
At this point, you don’t know if they’re friends or enemies with the way they’re glowering at each other. And you still don’t know what truth they’re talking about, either.
“Jisoo has been trying to find you for centuries.” Minghao finally says, eyes softening just the tiniest bit when he looks back at you.
You don’t say anything because it all sounds like some crazy lie. Minghao isn’t the type to pull pranks, but there’s no other logical explanation for what’s happening. And yet, it also isn’t possible that he could know what the man from your dreams looked like and somehow find someone who looks exactly like him for his prank.
“We’re vampires.” Jisoo says, voice soft and comforting. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.”
“Prove it.”
Your words come out before you can stop them. It’s not what you meant to say (not right away, anyway), but you don’t try to backtrack. On the off chance that they’re not pulling some elaborate prank, you need to know that you’re not crazy for kind of believing what they’re saying.
Minghao and Jisoo are looking at you with wide eyes, but the challenging look on your face doesn’t waver. They both know you enough to realize you aren’t going to believe them until they prove that they’re not lying.
Jisoo grins, but it seems bitter in a way. “Okay. Just… don’t be scared.”
You raise an eyebrow when his smile stretches further. It’s not until you see four of his teeth elongating into literal fangs that you feel your pulse start to race. His eyes have darkened into an inhuman shade of black that reminds you of a demon. Now you understood what Minghao meant when he called Jisoo a monster.
But that also means…
In a panic, you look to your friend. Much to your horror, he too is bearing those monstrous characteristics now. Dark eyes and fangs that make them look like the monsters they claim to be. It feels like you’re in one of your lucid dreams, and in the back of your mind you hope that’s what this is.
“Did you bring me here to kill me?” You’re surprised that your voice comes out as calm as it does, and even though you’re terrified, you can’t react how you know you should be.
“We would never hurt you.” Jisoo says, features slowly reverting back to normal. “No matter what, I won’t let anyone or anything bring you harm.”
It’s crazy that he’s promising you this with what feels like genuine sincerity, and it’s even crazier that it makes your chest warm with affection. You press your lips together, trying to make sense of how any of this is actually possible.
“You’re the reincarnation of Jisoo’s true love.” Minghao breaks the heavy silence. “He’s been searching for your soul since your untimely death.”
“That’s why you came into my dreams.” You whisper, not sure how to feel about this alleged truth.
“Yes.” Jisoo says, voice soft as ever. “I called myself Josh since it’s a modern name. You can still call me that if you wish.”
You stay silent, trying to deal with the onslaught of emotions you’re feeling without revealing any on your face. It’s hard, but you manage as you look back at your friend. “And you knew about this the entire time?”
“I didn’t know he’d been invading your dreams.” Minghao says honestly. “If I had—”
Minghao cuts his sentence short, and you can tell he’s trying his best to keep his emotions in check. It’s clear that he doesn’t like the idea of you being the reincarnation of Josh’s true love. You don’t understand why he brought you to meet him if that’s the case.
“Minghao.” Josh’s tone takes a threatening tone that you never thought him capable of emitting.
“Tell her.” Minghao says, clearly unfazed by Joshua’s sudden malicious attitude. “She has a right to know the truth before you think you can spend the rest of eternity with her.”
It’s silent for a moment before you see Josh’s shoulders slump. He looks slightly defeated and nervous. Seeing him in distress makes you uncomfortable, and you have to wonder if these are your actual feelings or something beyond your control.
“I first met you five years after I was first turned.” He starts, eyes begging for understanding. “You were running from a clan of demons who murdered your coven.”
The air is tense. You can feel your heart start to throb with hurt that you can’t place. A familiar burning sensation starts to poke at the back of your eyes, but you can’t understand why. “You saved me?”
Minghao clears his throat, eyes threatening.
“Unwillingly.” He admits, head hanging a little lower. “I was content in my solitude, and helping a witch didn’t sound appealing to me.”
“He also didn’t want to help a witch that belonged to the coven he helped exterminate.”
Minghao’s blunt statement makes your blood run cold. There’s a strange feeling that manifests itself in your chest. It’s an odd mixture of resentment, anger, and heartbreak. The feelings are familiar yet foreign. You feel the tears fall from your eyes before you can even think to hold them back. It’s all new information, but something in your bones recognizes the hurt and devastation.
“You killed my family.” The words aren’t yours, but in a strange way it feels like they are. “You almost killed me.”
“It was before I fell in love with you.” Josh sounds defeated. “Back then I was only concerned with my own survival, and I was a fool to let it get in the way of my love for you.”
Again, the air becomes tense. It makes Minghao almost regret doing this, but you ultimately have to know the truth. All of it.
“Tell her how you got her killed.”
More tears keep spilling from your eyes, and you can’t fathom the fact that they don’t feel like yours. A gentle hand wipes them away. Through blurry vision you can see Josh looking pained as he gently cradles your face in his large hand.
“I refused to go into hiding after the humans started to become more wary of our existence. Because of that, you and I were attacked by a group of hunters.” Josh feels a pain he hasn’t in centuries just talking about this to you of all people. “You protected me with your magic. I don’t know why you saved a wicked creature like me instead of yourself, but I really wish you hadn’t.”
The tears have stopped now, but Josh’s thumb is still gently caressing your face. His touch is cold yet comforting. You let out a shaky sigh, not sure what to do with all the information you’ve been given.
“This is why Minghao feels that I don’t deserve you, and maybe he’s right. But I’ve always been a selfish creature which is why I can’t give you up. Not in this lifetime or any other.”
Josh says it tenderly, but somehow you feel like you’ve become his prey.
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Sometimes you wonder if letting Josh get so close to you is a mistake. Minghao seems to think it is even if he doesn’t tell you outright. Still, at least he’s supportive of your decision (as much as he can be, anyway). In spite of the fact that you now know the man of your dreams is a dangerous predator, you don’t feel unsafe when you’re with him. There’s also the fact that you can literally see the love he has for you every time you look at him.
Giving into him is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. It feels natural and right, especially since he’s so sweet to you. You feel yourself fall harder every time you’re with him. He knows you better than anyone and treats you like you’re his everything.
Your relationship feels completely surreal and fast paced, but in an odd way it also feels like it’s not fast enough. The feeling has something to do with your past life you’re sure. After all, Josh had been waiting centuries for you to reincarnate.
He must’ve been so lonely.
You suck in a quiet breath as the thought comes to you, one that feels like it came from deep in your subconscious and is not entirely yours. Josh’s eyes snap open at the sound. He’s looking straight at you from where he has his head in your lap.
“What’s wrong, darling?”
Unlike Minghao, Josh doesn’t have the power of coercion, but you’re still unable to lie to him. (Unwilling is a better term, but, details.)
“Did you really not have another lover after I died?” Your question isn’t accusatory, and part of you hopes he says yes. “Like you never even hooked up with someone else in three centuries?”
Josh’s airy laughter makes your chest warm. He brings your intertwined hands to his lips, placing a tender kiss on the back of yours. “If you do not believe me, I shall bring Minghao and have him use his gift on me.”
He’s teasing you, but you also know he’s dead serious. It shouldn’t thrill you so much that he’s willing to do just about anything for you—even subject himself to Minghao who still harbors a bit of a grudge towards him.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just…” You let out a quiet sigh. “You must’ve been really lonely.”
The way you look heartbroken and guilty isn’t satisfying, but it is alleviating somehow. You truly haven’t changed. The beautiful, kind soul he fell in love with remains intact, and he can’t be more grateful for that.
“At first I was. Then I met Minghao and joined his coven. They made it more bearable.”
You bring the hand that’s not attached to Josh’s to his head and run a gentle hand through his hair. “It must’ve been hard.”
Josh only offers you a hum. He can’t deny that it was, but he also doesn’t want to keep making you feel bad with all the details. That would have to be for another time.
“How many dreams did you invade before you finally found me?” You suddenly ask, wondering just how many psyches he had to go through over the course of 300 years.
“None.” His smile is a little bitter. “I’m not a incubus, so I can only enter your subconscious.”
The confused look on your face makes him let out a quiet laugh. It’s so innocent that it’s hilarious. Especially because you don’t remember that the restriction to his gift was your doing.
“Every time I tried to use my gift, I couldn’t. That’s how I knew you hadn’t been reincarnated yet. As soon as you were born I was able to tell, but I still couldn’t get into your psyche until you were ready to let me in—this is all curtesy of you, of course.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” He laughs. “Because I can’t dream, you bestowed this gift on me so I would be able to experience a dreamlike state again. Since you didn’t want the bloodthirsty heathen that I was back then to invade the minds of unsuspecting humans, you put all these limitations on my gift.”
His laugh is cute as he reminisces. It makes you smile too until you think of something.
The other day, Josh had mentioned he used to feed off of you in his past life because it tasted different and apparently it was like a kink for both of you. It freaked you out at first, but lately you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Honestly, the more the image plagued your mind, the harder it was not to feel turned on by it. You wonder if it would hurt and if you would like the hurt.
“Do you want to feed on me?”
If Josh’s heart was capable of beating, he has no doubt it would’ve been harshly pounding against his rib cage. He slowly gets up, feeling his cock throb and his throat itch.
“Darling—”
“You’ve never done it, and I was wondering if it was something you want to do.”
Of course he wanted to do it. Your scent is mouthwatering, and he just knows you taste divine. Up until now he hadn’t brought it up because he didn’t want you to think that’s all he wanted. All you two have done this past month is share some kisses, and that was perfectly fine. If that’s all you were willing to give him he’s gladly take it so long as you let him be part of your life.
Josh swallows thickly as he contemplates his answer. While it sort of sounds like you’re offering, he can’t assume anything. Plus he doesn’t want to seem like the monster Minghao told you he is.
When you see him hesitate, you make a decision that really isn’t all that hard for you. With an enticing smile, you tilt your head the slightest bit and offer your neck to him. “Bite me.”
In a split second, Josh pulls you on his lap so you’re straddling him. You gasp quietly when he sits you directly on his hardening cock. His eyes are dark like on the day he revealed himself to you. In the back of your mind, you know this is a dangerous game you’re playing, but you don’t feel one shred of regret or fear.
“I’ll be gentle.” He promises, voice breathy and needy.
Josh trails gentle kisses up and down your neck with patience that you find impressive. His fangs tease the tender skin as he opens his mouth slightly, and it’s almost like you can feel it throb in anticipation. With one last sweet kiss, Joshua sinks his teeth into your skin until you can feel a stabbing pain.
You gasp out a moan at the feeling. The pain lasts a second before you feel it rapidly fade. It’s replaced by images that invade the forefront of your mind. Memories that you don’t remember rush forward as if they were aching to be freed from the depths of your mind. There’s so many, and in spite of the fact that they pass through your mind quickly, you see every one of them.
When you come back down to reality, Josh is still drinking from you. He groans into your skin, reluctantly pulling away and licking the puncture wound he’s left behind. Josh continues to press kisses along your skin and whispered praises that you can’t help but melt into him.
“Jisoo.” You breathe out softly.
Joshua freezes when he hears what you’ve called him. He pulls back, eyes wide as he takes in the way you’re looking at him. Your gaze has always been full of affection, but now it’s full of ardent love that reminds him of the way you looked at him all those centuries ago.
“I’ve missed you.”
“Y/N…” Josh sounds breathless as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“I’m sorry it took me this long to remember.” You murmur as your bring a hand up to caress his cool cheek. “But I guess it’s only fair since you left me first.”
“It’s my biggest regret.” Josh says honestly, grip tightening on you.
You hum, trailing your thumb over his lips. He opens his mouth the slightest bit so you can touch his fangs just like you used to do once upon a time. Goosebumps cover your skin at the familiarity of it all. The feelings in your chest deepen impossibly as you replay all the memories that slowly keep coming to mind. You thought it would be impossible to love Josh any more than you already did, but once again you were proven wrong.
You let out a shocked squeak when he pulls you closer to him. His face is shoved into the side of your neck that he didn’t bite, breathing in your addicting scent. “I was so afraid that you wouldn’t remember.”
“If you wouldn’t have been such a gentleman and bitten me sooner it wouldn’t have taken me so long.” You laugh, hugging him tighter.
The two of you stay like that until you shift and realize you’re still sitting on his hard cock. In a flash, the hot memory of Josh ravishing you back then goes straight to your cunt. You lick your lips and decide that you both have been waiting long enough to be with each other again.
“I’m impressed you kept your chastity just for me.” You purr into his ear, gently grinding down on his cock. “Such a loyal lover until the end.”
Josh doesn’t hesitate to take you to bed, cock aching to be inside you once again. He’s gentle when he finally gets you naked, eyes full of desire and love. “So fucking pretty.”
A breathy moan escapes you when his cold hands start to caress your body. His lips trails your neck, gently teasing you with his sharp teeth. Your skin heats up at the attention, and you feel like your floating by the time Josh gets his dick out to finally give you what you’ve been wanting.
“I missed you so much.” He groans as his throbbing cock slowly eases past your wet folds.
You moan along with him, hands finding his to lace your fingers together. “Missed you too, my love.”
Josh’s cock twitches inside you when he hears the pet name come out of your pretty little mouth. His leaking tip brushes against your cervix as your legs wrap around his hips. His pace is slow at first, trying to savor the feeling of your hot, tight cunt wrapped around him. He buries his face into your neck, licking and biting at the skin as his thrusts start to get tougher and deeper.
Your moaning is loud, and you’re amazed that he still knows which angels to hit after so much time. It’s like you’re seeing stars when Josh gently bites at your skin. He does it teasingly until you’re begging him to bite you again.
“Stop teasing.” You whine wantonly, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts.
His chuckle is low and has your pussy clamping down on his cock, drenching it in your arousal. You can’t remember the last time you were so turned on. It hasn’t been long, but it already feels like you’re about to come.
“Seeing you fall apart like this is my favorite thing.” You can feel his sinister smirk against your neck. “It’s been too long since I last saw it.”
Josh lets go of one of your hands to bring a thumb to your clit. He starts to rub slow circles on the sensitive nub as his thrusts grow more ravenous. You cry out in pleasure when his thick cock hits your sweet spot roughly. Your back arches in pleasure as you feel your juices start to coat his heavy balls.
“Never letting you go again.” Joshua growls lowly, more to himself than you. “All mine.”
With his possessive declaration, he sinks his fangs into your neck for a second time. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you violently come all over his big cock.
“Fuck!” You cry out, hips moving against his arms he continues to fuck you through your high.
He’s licking at your open would now, sharp thrusts angled just right to have you on the cusp of another orgasm. Joshua pulls back, pink lips painted scarlet with your blood. He looks ravenous, and you think you might actually come again from how hot he looks.
“That’s it, darling.” Josh sounds insatiable. “Cream all over me.”
It’s not long before the sight of you completely fucked out triggers his own orgasm. Thick ropes of cum shoot inside your pulsing walls, painting them white with his seed. His moans are as pretty as you remember, and they mix in with your perfectly as he fucks his cum deeper inside you.
“Fuck me again.” You pant out, still longing for the second orgasm he was coaxing out of you.
Josh’s smirks as he flips you over on your front. “Still as insatiable as ever, darling.”
You look back at him with a laugh. “Like you’re any better. So hurry and fill me up again.”
You’ll never get sick of the feeling of his cold skin on yours as he grips your ass. Josh’s large hands rub and squeeze before you feel his throbbing cock tease your messy cunt. You let out a needy whine, tilting your hips up more to offer yourself to him.
“Such a needy little thing.” Joshua murmurs in that mean but sweet tone only he was capable of having.
“Only for you, my love.” You mewl, pussy throbbing at the thought of him splitting you open again.
As is his style, Josh slowly pushes his fat cock into your hot cunt, making you feel every inch of him. Then, in a split second he shoves the rest in like he can’t wait to be inside you any longer. The jolt of pleasure and slight sting of the stretch was enough to tip you over the edge for a second time.
You muffle your cry of pleasure in the sheets, fingers clinging to the soft cotton as your pussy clenches down on Josh’s cock, making him feel even bigger inside you. He groans from behind you, loving how your juices coat his cock as if you’re claiming it as yours.
“Fuck, sweetheart. Can you do that for me one more time?”
It’s more of a rhetorical question because in the next second his fingers are digging into your hips as he pulls his cock all the way out before shoving it back into your needy pussy with a sharp thrust. You can feel your body tremble as your pussy grips his cock like a vise.
“So fucking tight.” He groans, voice dripping with lust.
“Fuck me!” You moan, pushing back on his cock with insatiable need.
At your desperate demand, Josh sera a brutal pace. He fuck you hard and rough, leaking tip hitting your sweet spot over and over again until all he can hear is lewd squelching and skin slapping. His hips slam against your ass, obsessed with the way your sweet crema coats his cock. You cry out his name as his heavy balls slap against your throbbing clit.
Josh is pounding you into the mattress, cock splitting you open deliciously. You’re so addicted to the feeling that you can’t help but spur him on. “Don’t stop!”
You cry out in ecstasy when he does exactly as you ask. He pounds his cock against the spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Your fingers grips the sheets as you bounce your ass back to meet his thrusts desperately.
“You’re close again, right, baby?” Josh’s voice is teasing. He doesn’t need to ask, though. He knows you are because he knows your body.
You’re moaning and shaking with overwhelming pleasure. All you can do is nod as you bring your hand down between your bodies to rub your aching clit. With all the stimulation from your fingers and his cock, you fall over the edge once again. Your body tenses as you moan out Josh’s name with ecstasy. The excess of your orgasm drips down Josh’s cock, staining it and marking it as yours.
With one last thrust, he shoots his hot cum inside you, moaning your name like a mantra. He sloppily fuck it back into you before pulling you flush against his chest. You two collapse back on the bed with Josh holding you closely as if he thinks you might disappear.
Slowly, you turn around with his cock still inside you. Joshua’s eyes are sparkling as he looks at you. “How are you feeling?”
“Amazing.” You breathe out blissfully. “And not just because you’ve stuffed me full.”
His cock twitches inside of you, and you can’t help but let out an endeared laugh. Your chest is warm as he hugs you closer to him, lips gently skimming over your puncture wound.
“Jisoo.”
He hums against your neck, pulling back to look you in the eyes.
“I was so afraid when I first died.” You confess, feeling him tense. You’re quick to pull him closer and caress his cheek. “Afraid that I’d be reborn and you wouldn’t be there when I was.”
Josh swallows thickly and comes to cup the hand that’s still brushing over his cheek. “I’ll never leave you alone again.”
“I know. Once you turn me, we’ll have the rest of eternity together.”
It all feels too good to be true, but you know that this is reality and not just another one of your sweet dreams.
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taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo
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alena-draws · 1 year
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Beware of major Trigun spoilers!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Read from right to left
(they are not necessarily chronological to the events in the au, I’ll just be drawing what scenes come to mind)
First part of my Vashwood Reincarnation AU that I’m gonna call “Cutting the Strings of Fate”, which planted itself in my mind some days ago! The concept takes part in the future after the Trigun Maximum events.
While I was drawing I was wondering if Vash is a bit too ooc here maybe? Tristamp Vash is a pretty diffcícult character to grasp for me, but I think considering that he hasn’t really lived through all that that he did in the anime, and just starts to remember the events in the manga, it’s ok if he’s a bit more carefree at first, and not so completely the depressed and sad puppy from the anime...Anyway, mixing the Tristamp characters with the Trimax universe was a fun idea to me! I love both iterations of the characters and their respective universes a lot, sooo why not mash them together?
Look under the cut for the whole story idea:
Many decades after the events of Trigun Maximum, Vash is reborn on the same planet. Even though still needed to sustain themselves, humans are less dependant of plants now, and the great project to cultivate the planet has been very successfull, with the first forests and occassional green that will grow out of the dry soil. Vash is a young but skillful plant engineer, who will also from time to time help out in different towns to have a look at their local plants. One day he starts having dreams about his past life, with them getting clearer and clearer and revealing more of his past. He meets Zazie, who is still the old Beast who knew Vash the Stampede. Because of that, Zazie notices that the very individual electric impulse of Vash, that every being gives off and can be detected by the worms, is indeed very close to the same signal of Vash the Stampede. Thus confirming that  Vash is indeed some kind of reincarnation.
Vash's brother Nai works as a bioengineer, looking after the preservation of important vegetation in another city, where their mother Rem lives, too. Vash meets Wolfwood, who starts to help out in the plant facility as a odd-job man, and they grow closer together. One day though, an accident happens, convincing Vash and Zazie that Vash's history is trying to repeat itself. They fear that just like in the past, Nai who is obviously another reincarnation could run berserk, and that Rem and Wolfwood are, just as well, in danger to become fate's victim once again.
With the help of Zazie that can feel how, after each past event repeating itself in some way, Vash's and the others' electric signals grow closer to their past selves', they try to defy fate and bring about a happy end for everyone. (Yay!)
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whimsylueur · 2 months
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This is how I imagine Valkyrie’s Aura-vision, just Skug surrounded by his beautiful crimson red magic/soul.
I drew it also because I was inspired by Seasons of War, Chapter 22.
Literally read this whole chapter guys, it highlights everything I love about Skulduggery and Valkyrie’s dynamic. Just effortlessly authentic, yet deep and critical. Sneak a few jabs and banter and, well, that’s just true love I reckon.
“I don’t know if there is such a thing as destiny. The rational side of me is keen to dismiss the notion - but we work with magic. We work with concepts that routinely defy explanation until a new explanation is found. And then we encounter another concept that defies explanation all over again. So I don’t know if fate is secretly driving us behind an illusion of free will, but I would like to think that I’m responsible for myself, and I find no comfort in the idea that I’m being guided by an unseen hand.”
They slowed to a stop at the bedroom she’d chosen.
“What about you?” Skulduggery asked. “Do you believe in fate, or do you believe in yourself?”
Valkyrie frowned. “I’m not sure I believe in either.”
“Then you’re experiencing an existential crisis.”
“Will it be better by the morning?”
“Most likely.”
“Good,” she said, and kissed his cheekbone. “Goodnight, Skulduggery.”
“Goodnight, Valkyrie.”
She went into her room, and listened to his footsteps, slowly getting fainter.
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Just a dead warrior and his Valkyrie.
Source for the first image:
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bonefall · 9 months
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Is Sandgorse still abusive in BB? If so does he still save Sparrow? Idk I think it'd be a neat thing for Talltail to brood on and move past once realizing the truth. Like just because your abuser did a "Good Thing tm" doesn't mean you have to forgive them or that all of a sudden it excuses their past a tion towards you.
Or did you remove this plot beat entirely? If so I don't blame you :P
Weird that Tumblr search isn't giving me all the stuff I tagged :/ hopefully after finals are done I can compile a 1st draft/The Story So Far for the rework of Tallstar’s Revenge
It's now called TALLSTAR’S COLLAPSE. It is actually a story I am rewriting with tragedy in mind. It's about Talltail fleeing WindClan with his starcrossed lover, Sparrow, only to eventually be drawn back to it where he becomes a perpetuator of all the things that made him leave.
To answer your question; Yes, and. Sandgorse is abusive and there's a LOT of nuance to this situation. I'm not sure if he still saves "Sparrow" though because I have waaaay more of a point in mind with Tallstar’s tumultuous relationship to him.
Summary of changes,
Tallstar's Collapse
Sparrow is the Clanmew name Jake takes when his group interacts with WindClan. His first language is actually a dialect of Townmew!
(Also Firestar has no known father in BB)
His group is nomadic. They go from place to place trading goods. I need a name for both them and their cultural "cluster" but in my head, Jake's family is the Algernauts because Algernon is the current leader
It's important the Algernauts are extremely endearing because leaving them is VERY painful
(and something i want to frame as the wrong choice for tallstar, emotionally)
WindClan is in a very sensitive period of its history. Before Tallstar was born, Heatherstar began the Mothermouth Moorland War, to take a very large parcel of land from ShadowClan. A good 1/5th of it.
Naturally this is a huge project and incredibly ambitious. Sacrifices Must Be Made
The sacrifice she has chosen to make is the death of tunneling. Because she's smothering it.
Tunneling is PEACEFUL, defensive at best. You can't dig them in a floodplain, they would be useless for holding the Mothermouth Moorland territory
Tallkit is born into a terrible position. Son of the head tunneler, mother in a terrible depression, and Heatherstar trying to pry a wedge between the "future" and the "past"
Im also planning to change his name. He was born Slowworm-Kit, which has a connotation of cleverness in Clanmew. To bully him, Shrewpaw calls him Wormtail, because Slowworms drop their tails if pulled. It means "you will get trapped in a cave-in, and when they pull your tail, it'll fall off"
But it doesn't translate well into English... so I'm not sure what his Heatherstar-given warrior name would be. Wormwing or Wormleap maybe, like he "defied fate" to become a wonderful moor-runner...
Or maybe the prefix is Drop? Droptail as the mean bully name and Dropflight as the warrior name...
Anyway, when he returns, Heatherstar welcomes back the extra claws and honors the lesson he learned with "Talltale." In Clanmew this is "Story-travelled," his leader name meaning "Tale-star."
Anyway. Back to the cat drama
Talltail (name pending) is in a tight spot. I kind of want to show everyone being a victim except Heatherstar herself, who has all the power in this situation.
Not that it excuses anyone
Sandgorse is watching something he loves dying, an ancient tradition passed down for generations. He is trying to force his son into a position he shouldn't HAVE to occupy, but his child is the one thing he might have any control over
(Until Tall breaks it ofc)
Tallpaw was just a kid. He needed to take out his bullying and the stress on something, and that was usually his mother and the concept of tunneling
Palebird has been completely neglected by her mate as he focuses on the person he WANTS his kid to be. She NAMED a Fading Kit, a serious social taboo, and even the support of the nursery and Woolytail can't pull her out before Tall's kithood is over
Heatherstar is using Tallpaw as a political pawn and Tallpaw is too young and hurt to realize it. He was given to her sister, Dawnstripe, and endlessly praised for his skill and talent in a time where he NEEDED positive feedback
Which is making his relationships with his parents worse
All the while, there's VIOLENCE. Regular raids and counterstrikes. Cats die and get injured, and it only escalates as Tall gets older and Cedarstar is reaching the end of his lives, hoping to end the conflict before then
And in all this chaos and uncertainty, there comes Sparrow.
Just a trader and an honored guest, there's been lots of these nomadic visitors since the time of Windstar herself, but they've become quite rare.
When Sandgorse dies suddenly in that collapse (TITLE DROP) Talltail has the push he finally needs. It's too much. He can't process this
Sparrow begs him to leave with them, they don't even need to confront anyone, just come!
IF IT SUCKS HIT DA BRICKS
I have tons of really nice little things planned for this part of the story. It's several chapters of Talltail being free.
He engages in the funeral rites of Wee Hen, asking if he may sit vigil for her. His new family is honored to allow it, Reena even tries to do it too and falls asleep
(Little sister energy)
They meet all sorts of people and go to many places. Talltail learns that the world is vast, and there's an endless amount of knowledge out here.
It all starts crashing down when him and Jake find a litter of abandoned kittens, and become parents.
They're a few moons old.. around the same age as his halfsibs back home.
It starts bringing back memories. He wonders how they're doing. If they made a nice grave for Sandgorse...
The sudden longing for his own mother strikes him like lightning.
For the first time in eons, he feels GUILT over leaving. He thought it was over-- he's living his own life now!
But what if they're hurt? What if there was a battle and he couldn't help? What if his mentor died and he didn't even know?
What kind of a horrible son doesn't even say goodbye?
The problems that made him leave seem so small now, and the homesickness is like acid leaking from his stomach, dissolving his guts and leaving him hollow
He's raising kits who will never know what it means to earn a title, or have a permanent home, or--
(Any of the other things he should have learned don't have meaning outside of clan culture. Things they wouldn't miss.)
He cherishes the memories he makes here, raising children with his mate, but something turns inside of Talltail. Like the groaning ache of a hundred stones on top of a decaying mineshaft
The REAL collapse is this. An existential crisis Talltail can't escape from.
And eventually, it comes tumbling down with one last, horrible nightmare.
In his dream, he came home only to find the sandy camp abandoned, the dens decrepit, full of musty scent and cobwebs.
Sandgorse was there. And they talked.
His dad was gruff as always, disappointed. But he didn't say anything the real Sandgorse would say.
The nightmare said, "You really did turn out like me. We both left your mother when she needed us. Turned our backs on our leader. And now we're both dead to WindClan."
Tall wakes up crying. Jake is there to comfort him, but the conversation they have is sad.
Jake tries to tell him that's all not true, and even if it WAS his dad, his dad sucked and would only say that to hurt him!
But... Tall can't believe it. Jake's right but also wrong. He IS all those horrible things.
And...... how can jake ever Understand? He does not know the Bonds of a Clan cat
(thought terminating cliche. Outsiders Cant Understand Our Bonds.)
He stays a few more days, but that nightmare was the end. And everyone sees the change.
The kits are apprentice-aged. He stayed until they would be old enough to keep up with the Algernauts.
And he says goodbye. He won't ever leave without saying goodbye ever again.
Jake says it doesn't have to be goodbye, he'll always love him, and they can visit! They can see each other again!
And Tall says yes. That this isn't the end. It's... see you later, my love.
(...but they both know how violent it's getting between Wind and Shadow. It isn't safe to visit.)
It is the end. But neither can admit it.
But after Tall is a fair distance away, one of his kits tackles him.
POSSIBLY Post-Tallstar's Collapse
Not sure if I'd put these in a novella or still make it part of it, but these are all directly related to the fallout of Tallstar's Collapse
Most likely is that there would be overlap between this and Brokenstar's Cataclysm, so the same events would be seen in different perspectives.
The kit's name is Fly. Tall has to wait for him to catch his breath and stop crying before they can talk.
Fly already lost parents before. He says he knows he can't make his dads stay together, "But PLEASE, papa, let me choose where I go this time!"
How could he say no? How could he send his son away after a plea like that?
He told him it would be hard. That he would be trained. That there would be dangerous fights.
Fly didn't care, he said he could be strong. He could do anything he needed to.
So... Tall took him to WindClan, where he became Flypaw. He became the warrior he promised he would be.
And Tall didn't notice how much the kid was changing until it was too late. Flytail took to it as if he was Clanborn-- but had to work twice as hard, fight thrice as viciously.
Though Talltail was graced with an Honor Title and open arms, he'd adopted his greatest rival.
Fly and Tall started competing for deputyship as soon as they finished training apprentices; Heatherstar had a fondness for the two of them.
In the end, Talltail won the spot by springing into action and saving Heatherstar's young nephew, a little golden tabby, from an adder.
Flytail continued as one of the more aggressive warriors in the Clan, surviving increasingly violent and bitter battles, until it came to a head in Heatherstar's Last Stand.
Her final battle as an old leader was a gruesome, definitive curbstomp in the last strategic point ShadowClan held above Carrionplace.
One of the losses was Lizardstripe-- neck snapped in Flytail's jaws.
Runningnose, and by extension, the oak-tree to his long-shadow, Brokentail, remembered this. Especially when Runningnose's father Mudfoot collapsed later that year.
As Talltail took leadership from the dying Heatherstar, a familiar regretful guilt wormed into his belly.
His son Flytail stood with a bloody mouth, eyes wet with sorrow, looking down at the leader Talltail once loved almost as much. Appreciating her sacrifice.
(secretly he didnt choose Deadfoot as his deputy just for his honor title or the battle move he invented... he chose him because there was a shocked, sorrowful look in his eyes at the fallen shadowclan cat. Sympathy seems more honorable in this moment.)
Tallstar is a wise leader... but his fatal flaw is naivety. How could he think he'd bring his son into WindClan, and not see the boy grow into a ferocious Warrior?
And naivety is what he displayed when he offered Raggedstar a peace deal. WindClan would keep the land, but they would pay a small tax of rabbits over the winter.
It was unprecedented. It was merciful. It was stupid.
When the winter was over, what would stop them from pushing further south?
Would they trade back the frogs and the flax, come summer?
On the blood and bones of so many warriors? As if giving up was ever an option?
Brokentail killed his father to prevent him from taking the deal, and reawakened Ripplestar's War Tactics.
BURN the peat. KILL the prey. OFFENSE is defense. A dead warrior is 10 less claws. A dead apprentice is 1 less warrior.
Stolen kittens are 1 more warrior on your own side.
Tallstar paid the ultimate price for letting Flytail follow him home that day. On the night of the massacre, Flytail went down fighting alongside a mate and a daughter. Dogpiled by Tangleburr and her squadron in revenge for Lizardstripe and Mudfoot.
Tallstar's granddaughter Stoneclaw, made a warrior and sitting for her vigil on that night, was the sole survivor of the little family.
The event stopped her from speaking again, like she's still sitting vigil.
Tallstar is a character who almost broke free of the control of the Clans. For a brief moment of his life, he was free.
He thought maybe he could change things a little, protect his Clanmates from the battles by being part of them, have the Mothermouth Moorland and protect the peace at the same time. But you CAN'T.
You can't fix broken systems without fundamentally changing them. He thought he could be a nice warlord and that would work on the Clan whose territory he had inherited. Power acts through people just as much as they act through power.
And that's Tallstar. He who travels the world, yet is never able to go far enough. Always falling just a little short of the point, believing that love and mercy is enough while blissfully ignorant of the pressures of pride and power.
Into this role, as a successor to this leader, Onestar is unwillingly thrust.
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svn-bangtan · 1 year
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Soulmates
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»pairing: Yoongi x reader
»genre: BTS | 13+ | Fluff
»wc/date: 4.5k | June 2023
» warnings: Just some fluff 
»Summary: Everyone had a soulmate and many find theirs much faster than others. Throughout her years being alive, Y/n is slowly beginning to lose hope in finding her soulmate. After becoming a successful artist and meeting a new client and a stranger at a cafe, things change very quickly. 
» notes: THIS ONE-SHOT WAS ORIGINALLY POSTED ON MY OLD ACCOUNT @loomdiamonds​ 
»  m.list | Taglist | Thoughts? Comments? Concerns
Soulmates. The notion of being destined to be with someone, a connection meant to last a lifetime. It's a captivating concept that defies comprehension.
In this extraordinary world, every person bears a unique tattoo on their wrist. It consists of their soulmate's first and middle initials, followed by their last name. For instance, if Y/n's soulmate's name is Tong Sochun, her tattoo would read Tong S.
Discovering one's true soulmate occurs through physical contact, such as a high five. When this happens, the wrist tattoo vanishes, replaced by a new one encircling the ring finger, bearing the partner's full name. From that moment forward, they both embark on a blissful journey together.
Simple, right? Well, not quite.
Y/n's tattoo reads Min Y., a constant reminder since her earliest memories of yearning to meet him or her. However, as the years pass, hope gradually slips away.
Recently, she relocated to Seoul, seeking better prospects in this vibrant metropolis. Unfortunately, after spending considerable time here, it feels like an exercise in futility.
Today, she finds solace in a cozy cafe, engrossed in a new book, relishing her well-deserved day off. These are the moments she eagerly anticipates—a chance to escape reality, stepping out of her apartment and immersing herself in simple pleasures that help momentarily forget about soulmates and the complexities of daily life.
A deep sigh escapes Y/n as she briefly diverts her attention from the book, gazing outside at the enchanting view of Seoul. She offers a faint smile, hugging her coffee mug a little closer. For an instant, she glances down at her wrist, tracing the delicate script that has adorned it since infancy.
Despite her waning hope of finding her soulmate, Y/n yearns to experience the same happiness her parents share—a love so profound, nurtured from childhood, and fortified by a single hug in first grade.
It's every girl's dream—to witness her mom and dad, who never had to embark on wild adventures to find their destined partner.
Setting her cup down, Y/n sweeps her hair away from her face, observing as the first snowflakes begin their gentle descent from the sky. Her gaze drifts downward, lost in contemplation.
Out there, somewhere, Y/n's soulmate patiently awaits. Perhaps they ponder the same questions that haunt her. Uncertainty and countless inquiries swirl within them, chief among them being the fear of rejection.
Rejection is a cruel blow, one that cuts deeply. It ranks among the worst acts one can inflict on another, second only to criminal behavior. When you experience outright rejection, your tattoos vanish, and you become destined to never find love again. Even if you were to try, happiness would forever elude you. It's challenging to articulate fully but rest assured, it's a devastating fate to endure.
What if Y/n's soulmate has passed away, unbeknownst to her? The same fate awaits.
Love becomes an elusive concept, eternal happiness forever out of reach. If she never gets the chance to be with her soulmate, life becomes an unrelenting misery. It's an unfortunate reality, one that plagues the minds of all who ponder the enigma of soulmates.
This notion has even crossed Y/n's mind. At twenty-eight, while all her friends have found their soulmates, she has begun to wonder if her day will ever come. Perhaps her destined partner is no longer among the living. Yet, her wrist bears the undeniable mark—a reminder that they still exist, waiting to be discovered.
"What is a lovely lady like yourself doing all alone up here?" a male voice suddenly interrupts, causing Y/n to jump slightly.
She turns her head and finds a tall man with shaggy brown hair, his warm smile directed at her. Returning the smile, she shrugs her shoulders and raises her book. "Just reading, cherishing the simple things."
Nodding, he gestures toward the empty seat in front of her, silently seeking permission to join her. Y/n agrees, and as he settles across from her, her eyes are drawn to his hand. She notices a name etched around his ring finger, and a quiet sigh escapes her. 'Of course, someone as good-looking as him has already found his soulmate,' she muses inwardly.
"You'll find them one day," he remarks suddenly, causing Y/n's eyes to widen in surprise. 'Did I say it out loud?'
Chuckling, he holds up his hand, his gaze fixed on her bewildered expression. "You were staring, so I assumed you were questioning yourself." Y/n offers a faint smile as she turns her gaze back to the window, where the falling snow gradually blankets the ground.
"It's astonishing to think that somewhere out there, my soulmate awaits me," she muses, looking down at her tattoo with a tender smile. "I admit, meeting them is a truly magical experience." She takes a deep breath and glances at the man, finding him already gazing at her with a smile.
"Hopefully, that day comes soon," she confesses, her fingers gently tracing the tattoo. "This waiting game has become unbearable."
The man chuckles in response to her words, understanding etched on his face as he takes a sip of his coffee. Once again, they sit in silence, finding comfort in each other's presence until Y/n breaks the quietude.
"I apologize for my rudeness. I'm Chun Y/n," she introduces herself.
"Chun?" he says, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise. Y/n nods, offering a sweet smile. "Yes, I'm not originally from Seoul. I moved here from Namyang-dong."
He nods, his grin widening. "Well, my name is Hoseok, and I might just know your soulmate," he declares, standing up and leaving Y/n perplexed.
"Wait, what?"
"Chun is a rare last name, right? I don't think I've ever come across anyone with that surname," he explains, prompting Y/n to slowly nod. "Yes, it's more common in Japan, if I'm not mistaken."
Gently taking hold of her hand, Hoseok gazes down at her tattoo, humming in contemplation. "Well, a good friend of mine, who recently returned to back to Seoul, bears your last name and initial on his wrist. He hasn't met his soulmate yet. It's possible that the two of you are destined for each other."
"But I'm confused," Y/n interjects, withdrawing her hand. "Is that why you approached me? Do you do this with many women?"
Hoseok bursts into hearty laughter, a sound that oddly resembles a windshield wiper, shaking his head. "No, I mistook you for my fiancée by accident. You two have a striking resemblance, and when I noticed your mark, I thought I'd explore the possibility."
"Oh, I see..." Y/n says, leaning back in her seat. "So, what now? If I choose to entertain this possibility, how will I meet your friend?"
Hoseok smirks, reclining in his chair and taking another sip of his coffee. "Leave that to me Chun Y/n."
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Sometimes, Y/n finds herself plagued by a persistent thought that whispers she may never cross paths with her soulmate. It's as if the universe has singled her out, marking her as one of the unlucky ones destined to live without that profound connection. This notion lingers, casting a shadow of doubt and loneliness over her heart.
Yet, despite occasional glimmers of hope ignited by her encounter at the café, Y/n has learned to temper her expectations. She has grown accustomed to guarding her heart, shielding herself from the potential pain of disappointment.
In this particular moment, Y/n is immersed in her art studio at work, fully absorbed in a new piece taking shape on her canvas.
Suddenly, a gentle knock at the door interrupts her concentration, drawing her attention towards the entrance. Her face lights up with a smile as she sees her boss, Kim Namjoon, stepping into the room, accompanied by an incredibly striking man.
Rising gracefully from her seat, Y/n warmly greets them both, and Namjoon turns towards his companion, ready to make the introductions.
"Y/n, this is Yoongi, my best friend and a producer," Namjoon announces, his voice tinged with pride. "Yoongi, meet Y/n, one of my incredibly talented artists. She's the one who painted that remarkable piece you showed interest in a few months ago."
A delicate blush colors Y/n's cheeks as she gazes at the man introduced as Yoongi. His presence commands attention, and the timbre of his deep voice momentarily catches her off guard. "Thank you," she responds graciously, her voice gentle and composed. "I truly appreciate your kind words, sir."
Yoongi, his eyes seemingly locked on Y/n, offers her a warm smile. "Please, call me Yoongi. I'm intrigued by the story behind that captivating painting," he says, his curiosity evident as he takes a leisurely stroll around her studio, Namjoon following closely behind. Together, they admire the artwork adorning the walls, until their attention is drawn to a copy of the painting that had caught their eye.
With a steadying breath, Y/n prepares to share the tale behind her creation. As she points to the two figures portrayed in the painting, she feels Yoongi's unwavering gaze upon her. She strives to maintain her professional composure, even as her heart flutters with anticipation. Her words flow with passion and depth, painting a vivid picture with her storytelling.
"Beautiful," Yoongi remarks, causing Y/n to momentarily lose herself in his gaze. A deeper shade of pink graces her cheeks, and Namjoon interjects, unwittingly shattering the enchantment.
"Speaking of soulmates, Yoongi here wanted to commission a piece for his own," Namjoon shares, unknowingly pricking at Y/n's delicate hopes. Swiftly, she masks any trace of disappointment and offers a genuine smile. "It would be my pleasure to create a piece for you, Yoongi."
"Hey, Y/n," Namjoon says with a warm smile. "I need to take a quick call. I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, he exits the room, leaving Y/n alone in the studio.
Just as their connection seems to deepen, a stack of papers held precariously in Yoongi's hands begins to waver, threatening to tumble to the floor. In an instant, a gust of wind rushes through the studio from Namjoon leaving briefly, scattering the papers in all directions.
Reacting with swift reflexes, both Y/n and Yoongi instinctively reach out to catch the fleeing sheets, their hand's mere inches away from touching. Their eyes meet briefly, a fleeting spark of electric anticipation passing between them, hinting at the profound connection that almost transpired.
Yet, their near-touch is abruptly interrupted as Namjoon bursts into the studio, his voice filled with urgency. "Yoongi, we have to go. It's already 3, and we'll be late for our meeting with Jin." Namjoon swiftly exits the studio, with Yoongi following in his wake. However, before he leaves, Yoongi turns back to offer Y/n one final smile. "I look forward to working with you, Y/n."
Returning the smile, Y/n bows respectfully. "Likewise," she replies softly as Yoongi walks away, leaving her once again in the solitude of her studio. A sigh escapes her lips as she settles back into her seat, her gaze fixed upon the canvas before her. "Every time, Y/n," she whispers to herself, a tinge of frustration evident in her voice.
Shaking off her thoughts, Y/n firmly grasps her paintbrush, determined to pour her emotions onto the canvas once more. Stroke by stroke, she channels her hopes and dreams, infusing her art with passion, knowing that one day, amidst the uncertainty that lingers, her soulmate might just find her.
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"I'm curious, what prompted your call today?" Y/n asked, taking a sip of her coffee. She heard Hoseok chuckle on the other end of the line as she finished tidying up her workstation and made her way toward the bedroom in her studio.
"Your soulmate, of course," Hoseok replied, causing Y/n to roll her eyes. It had been about three days since they had met at the café, and ever since, Hoseok had been eager to introduce his friend to Y/n to determine if they were potential soulmates.
Unfortunately, due to their busy schedules and Y/n's dedication to her artwork, they hadn't been able to meet yet. Despite Hoseok having a soulmate, Y/n couldn't shake Mr. Yoongi from her thoughts. She knew it was wrong since they could never be together, but she couldn't help but think about him.
"I don't know, Hoseok," Y/n said as she sat on the bed in the bedroom. Mr. Kim, the building owner, had kindly agreed to remodel her studio into an apartment-like space, complete with a sleeping area. Y/n was grateful for this arrangement since she practically lived in her studio more than her actual home.
"Why not, Y/n? He's available tonight, and so are you. It's perfect," Hoseok persisted, causing Y/n to roll her eyes and glance out the window at the weather. "I'm still at work, and even if I go, I probably won't have time to go home and freshen up. Besides, have you seen the weather outside?"
"You're impossible, Chun Y/n, you know that?" Hoseok teased, eliciting a laugh from Y/n. After some time on the phone and a bit of convincing, she eventually agreed to finally meet Hoseok's friend that night. Once she hung up, she lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, contemplating the upcoming meeting.
'Try not to get your hopes up, Y/n. There's a strong possibility it's just a coincidence,' she thought to herself. As she lay there, a knock on her studio door interrupted her thoughts. She got up and opened the door, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the man in front of her.
"Mr. Yoongi?"
"Hello, I just came to talk to you briefly about the painting. May I come in?" he asked politely. Y/n nodded, opening the door wider for him to enter. She took note of his well-fitted suit and noticed that his hair was now styled in waves instead of being pushed back.
Closing the door behind him, Mr. Yoongi stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets. "So, have you thought of any ideas for your painting for them?"
He paused for a moment, turning to look at Y/n. "Well, I'd love to hear your ideas. I've made a list of possibilities, but I'm not entirely sure."
"I'd love to help you in any way I can. Let's start by discussing how you would describe your soulmate," Y/n said, walking over to her desk to grab her notepad. She heard him sigh as he took a seat on a random chair, capturing Y/n's attention.
"I haven't met them just yet," he said quietly, his words drawing Y/n's full attention. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that."
"It's alright, really," Mr. Yoongi replied, looking up at Y/n with a slight smile before leaning back in the chair. "After I saw your artwork—forgive me if this sounds creepy—but I couldn't help but look more and more at all of your pieces. Since starting my career as a producer, I feel like I've lost touch with people, and I stopped actively searching."
Y/n nodded, immediately understanding his sentiment as it resonated with her own feelings. As much as she wanted to meet her soulmate, with each passing day, her hope dwindled, fearing that perhaps they didn't want to be found.
"When I saw your artwork, it instantly made me feel alive again. It made me see the brighter side of things and gave me the courage to give the search another try after all these years," he continued, locking eyes with Y/n.
Unbeknownst to her, her heart began to beat faster. "Thanks to you, I found hope again. With this painting, I want to convey that even during my period of giving up, not a day went by that I didn't think about them. And who better to paint it than the person who restored my hope?"
Y/n smiled warmly, feeling honored by his words. She jotted down some notes in her notebook. "Well, just know that I am truly honored to undertake this for you. Your soulmate is already so fortunate to have you."
They engaged in a conversation, discussing various ideas for the painting until Mr. Yoongi's phone suddenly rang. He apologized and checked the caller ID. "I'm sorry, but I have to meet up with a friend right now."
"That's alright. Let's call it a night," Y/n said, setting her notebook aside as they both stood up. She walked him to the door, and as he was about to leave, his eyes caught sight of a flyer hanging nearby. "You're having a showcase?"
"Yes, it's the day after tomorrow. You're welcome to come if you'd like," Y/n replied, offering a polite smile. Nodding, Mr. Yoongi returned the smile before opening the door. "I'll definitely stop by. See you later. And thank you again for your assistance."
"Anytime, Mr. Yoongi," Y/n said, bidding him farewell.
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"Wow, I had no idea you were such a talented artist!" Hoseok exclaimed, his eyes scanning the art gallery where Y/n's showcase was taking place. Y/n chuckled softly and nodded in response.
"Well, to be fair, we haven't known each other for that long," she replied graciously, expressing her gratitude to the attendees. Hoseok seized the opportunity to inquire about her recent date. Turning towards Y/n, he asked, "So, how did the date go? Are you guys soulmates?"
Y/n let out a deep sigh, shaking her head in disappointment. "They never showed up," she stated, her gaze focused on a piece of artwork in front of them.
Strangely, she wasn't as disheartened as one might expect. In fact, she had almost decided not to attend the date herself after her encounter with Mr. Yoongi. "I should probably strangle him," Hoseok muttered under his breath, expressing his frustration with his unreliable friend.
As Hoseok continued venting about his friend's unreliability, Y/n turned her head to the side and caught sight of someone entering the gallery.  A light smile formed on her lips for a brief moment before she quickly shook her head and redirected her attention back to Hoseok.
It's not him, Y/n. Remember, don't get your hopes up. His soulmate is out there, and it's unlikely to be you, she reminded herself silently, glancing down at her wrist.
Although Y/n had met Mr. Yoongi twice, she had never caught a glimpse of his wrist to determine their compatibility. In truth, she preferred not to know. She had been making an effort to stop thinking about him, but for some inexplicable reason, she couldn't shake him from her thoughts.
"He's right there. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind," Hoseok grumbled, his frown directed at someone behind Y/n. Shaking her head at his impulsive behavior, Y/n decided to stroll around her exhibit, relishing in the pride she felt for how far she had come in her career.
Painting had always been her refuge, her way of escaping reality, and each canvas held its own unique journey and story. While she never shared those stories with the public, she delighted in hearing people's theories and interpretations of her artwork.
Lost in her own thoughts, Y/n found herself standing in front of her piece titled "Loveless Love." Several people had gathered around it, captivated by its beauty and engaged in discussions. This sight brought a wider smile to her face.
"It's a truly beautiful piece, as I've told you before," a familiar voice spoke, causing Y/n to jump slightly in surprise. She turned her head and saw Yoongi standing there, his gummy smile radiating warmth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's alright," Y/n replied, her gaze returning to the painting. She could feel Yoongi's eyes on her, causing a gentle blush to color her cheeks as she focused on the artwork before them. Despite the crowd surrounding them, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room.
"So beautiful," Yoongi whispered, capturing Y/n's attention once again. She met his gaze, and in his eyes, she saw a certain look.
Slowly, he reached up his hand, his fingers tenderly grazing her cheek before delicately tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
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Y/n's heart fluttered as she gazed up at Yoongi, the man she had come to love deeply. They sat together under the shade of a grand tree, sharing an intimate picnic. Her eyes met his, captivated by the gentle glimmer in his deep brown orbs, and a radiant smile graced her lips.
"Yoongi," she said, her voice filled with affection. "I can't help but wonder... how much do you love me?" As she spoke, Y/n noticed the beautiful ring adorning her left ring finger, engraved with Yoongi's full name.
Yoongi's eyes locked onto hers, and he tenderly clasped her hands. "Trying to extract my wedding vows, huh?" he playfully remarked. "Well, I'm afraid that's top-secret information. But I can promise you, my love for you is immeasurable." His words were accompanied by a light chuckle as he lightly tapped her shoulder.
Unable to contain her joy, Y/n giggled and lightly tapped his good shoulder in return. Leaning down, Yoongi planted a soft kiss on her head, his gaze never leaving her eyes. "Seriously, I want to know," Y/n insisted, a glimmer of curiosity shining in her gaze.
Her expression turned tender as she spoke, her voice filled with heartfelt sincerity. "My love for you knows no bounds. It will endure through rain and sunshine, treating you like a precious diamond and never letting you wander far from my side. Even when distance separates us, you'll always remain in my heart, every second of every day. My love for you will bloom until my very last breath, for with you, I have found purpose and a love I want to show you." Y/n's eyes sparkled as she held Yoongi's gaze, her love pouring forth.
Yoongi's gaze softened, brimming with warmth and adoration. "I remember the first time I saw you," he reminisced.
"From that moment, I knew you were my soulmate. Your presence in your studio captured my attention completely. Your eyes, your smile... they stole my heart the instant you spoke. I never believed in love at first sight until I met you. And to this day, I can't believe how perfectly we were meant to be. You are everything I've ever dreamed of in a soulmate, and now, you are mine. Please never doubt how much I appreciate everything you do for us. You mean the world to me, and I love you with all my heart."
Y/n's cheeks flushed with warmth and delight. "Stop," she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mix of affection and amusement. "That was so cute, it might make me start crying." She covered her face with her hands, feeling overwhelmed by the depth of Yoongi's love.
Yoongi chuckled softly and gently removed her hands, his lips pressing against the back of them. "And if you do cry," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness, "I'll always be here to wipe away your tears."
Feeling her heart swell with love, Y/n sat up fully, being careful not to bump her head on a tree branch. Their eyes met once again, and the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their own little universe.
"I can't wait to marry you," Yoongi confessed, his hand tenderly caressing Y/n's cheek. Her smile grew wider, and she felt an overwhelming sense of joy and anticipation.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Y/n leaned forward and kissed Yoongi with all the passion and love she held within her. The kiss started softly but soon deepened, as every inch of their bodies and souls melted into one another. Yoongi's hands cradled Y/n's face, ensuring the perfect connection, while she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, savoring the warmth of his embrace.
Finally, they pulled apart, their lips still tingling, but their smiles radiant and content. Y/n rested her head on Yoongi's chest, listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat.
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Time seemed to stand still as Y/n gasped, returning to reality. Her eyes widened, and she looked up at Yoongi, astonishment etched on both their faces. Slowly, a slight pain emanated from her wrist and left ring finger, drawing their attention downward.
Unbeknownst to them, the entire room had turned their gaze towards the couple, their curiosity piqued. Y/n's wrist tattoo faded away, replaced by a name on her ring finger—Min Yoongi.
"Oh my god," Y/n whispered in awe, her eyes flickering up to meet Yoongi's matching expression.
He is my soulmate. He's who I've been waiting for, she thought, her heart overflowing with joy.
Countless questions swirled in her mind, but before she could voice them, Yoongi took action. In a moment of pure instinct, he pressed his lips against hers, leaving Y/n breathless and captivated once again. She gasped in surprise but quickly melted into the kiss, their connection growing stronger with every passing second.
The room erupted into applause and cheers, but Y/n blushed profusely, hiding her face in Yoongi's chest. His laughter reverberated through his chest as he relished in her adorable reaction. "See, Y/n? I told you I knew your soulmate," Hoseok declared triumphantly, catching the attention of both Y/n and Yoongi.
"He's the one I was supposed to meet?" Y/n asked, her voice filled with astonishment. Hoseok nodded, and Y/n turned to Yoongi, finding the same disbelief mirrored in his eyes.
"Yes, Yoongi, she's the one you stood up last night," Hoseok explained, prompting Y/n to laugh wholeheartedly.
"In my defense, I didn't go because I got caught up in work after visiting you," Yoongi confessed, causing Y/n to smile and playfully shake her head. "It's alright. At least now we know who this painting is for."
Yoongi's eyes softened as he whispered, "Yes, my beautiful soulmate, Chun Y/n." Y/n's heart raced, and her smile widened further. Embracing the moment, Yoongi leaned in for a quick peck on her lips. "Guys, please get a room," Hoseok groaned, earning giggles from everyone witnessing the affectionate exchange.
"Can't I cherish my beautiful soulmate?" Yoongi playfully retorted, his eyes shining with adoration.
"Stop it," Y/n protested, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. She looked down shyly, only to be gently guided by Yoongi to meet his gaze once more. "Don't be shy now, Y/n. This is how it will be forever. I promise you," he declared, his voice brimming with sincerity.
"Forever," Y/n whispered, her eyes sparkling with love and excitement. "I absolutely love the sound of that." Their love had found its place, and from that moment on, they embarked on an enchanting journey, hand in hand, destined for a future filled with eternal love and happiness.
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starlit1daydream · 6 months
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Gordon Freeman's classpect: and why you're all wrong about it
well forgive me for the hostile-sounding title there, but as it stands i'm yet to see a single other person with this take.
the unanimous agreement for gordon's title seems to be heir of hope - which i will give credence to as making a lot of sense at face value. the heir is the class of the typical 'hero' and hope is the aspect of belief, faith, deficiation, angelic symbolism. on paper, it works perfectly for a man held in such high regard as a saviour and liberator.
but what of gordon's personality? what little of it we see, of course.
the heir of hope argument applies a classpect to gordon not as a person, but as a concept.
gordon freeman the concept is an heir of hope, for sure.
but gordon freeman, the man?
gordon freeman, the scientist who was late to his first day on the job? whose brief glimpses into his personality include blowing up a man's casserole for no clear reason and solving every problem with a crowbar?
the gordon freeman who has been jumping from trauma to trauma for twenty years under the machinations of a sinister interdimensional bureaucrat?
hear me out here.
gordon freeman is a bard of void.
now, i should probably explain my thoughts on the bard class and the void aspect before going any further, since this entire take hinges on my very specific take on both things.
in my eyes, the bard (the passive destroyer) is somebody who initially ghosts adherence to their opposing aspect, until a traumatic incident or dire crisis suddenly pushes them into an influx of their real aspect. they change their tune from passively destroying their aspect in themselves to passively destroying through their aspect. bards are capricious, unpredictable people who are often cowardly, avoidant or lazy in their ways.
the aspect of void, the antithesis of light, deals with the eldritch and the unknown. void is shadow, void is doubt and obsfucation, it is by its very nature unknowable and exists in the dark corners of one's mind. void is narrative irrelevance given (a lack of) form.
so, how does this fit into gordon freeman's narrative?
let's get into his head.
gordon freeman is a man who, prior to the black mesa incident, has lived his life adhering to knowledge and science. he's studied, got a degree, probably quite passionate about science. the statistics, the thirst for knowledge and understanding, all of this paints a picture of light.
light players are the ultimate students, as the extended zodiac says, they are the knowledge-seekers who wish to understand the world around them and comprehend the most fortuitous path better than any other.
the guy shows up late to his first day on the job. a man with more degrees than should be feasible and he can't even show up to work on time. this is the first hint of gordon being a bard, it's an incredibly lazy and capricious action that also hints at his passive destruction of light through his lack of fortune.
and it's that fateful test that changes everything - you all know the one i mean.
the one that suddenly inundates him with void. suddenly, gordon's world is unknowable, incomprehensible, he is a slave to the plot and forced to keep driving forward a narrative to which he ultimately has no say in. it's another example of the traits of a bard, who generally do seem to be reduced to narrative devices. (we see this a lot with gamzee.)
gordon is consumed among the alien and eldritch, and emerges from black mesa's ruins anew. a man whose existence is defined by contradiction, doubt, obfuscation, and everything that void stands for.
we see it again and again throughout the series. his very existence within the combine's rigidly defined, meticulous and mechanical empire defies principle. he is the anticitizen, his presence within their world is a contradiction just by his very being. he is undocumented, an anomaly that shouldn't be. and that scares the shit out of them.
and it should! because, as a bard of void should, gordon destroys their empire through void. his very existence is enough to spark the revolution (which in itself is tied to the aspects of hope and rage) and the destruction he brings about is through his nature as the anticitizen. the contradiction, the hole in their logic. he casts doubt upon the system that they've forced into place and he does so while continually being surrounded by the eldritch and the unknown.
he does so while in servitude to the eldritch, actually. i think that g-man himself is a player of space (to be more specific, i think he is a lord) but i think that there is also a lot of void symbolism within the g-man's character and his 'employers' more specifically.
and you know what really cinches my argument?
gordon freeman, player of void, embodiment of the unknown and the obsfucation, of the silence and emptiness, of the doubt and darkness?
he never utters a single word.
i will revise this entire thing once i wake up tomorrow because it's currently 10pm for me and this is going to look incredibly lazily worded/formatted when i get up in the morning
but for now i suppose you can all take this rambling mess of uncoordinated madness and tell me how wrong i am
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vendettasfanfictioning · 11 months
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Sam-coded: Analyzing the parallels between Destiel and Sam's arcs with his love interests.
PART 1: JESSICA MOORE
FOREWORD & DISCLAIMER
With a fan community as enormous as Supernatural's, it is fair to assume that most, if not everything, stated here has already been pointed out or dissected multiple times before—especially considering the long span of time that the show has aired and the three years thereafter. The goal of this post is not to claim these ideas as my own but rather to compile and expand on them.
I also want to add that regarding Jessica, specifically, the canon facts about her are incredibly limited what with her only "real" appearance being at the Pilot episode (though she is referenced and alluded to in multiple episodes all throughout).
That said, she had a critical role in shaping Sam's goals, with emphasis on earlier seasons' Sam's development so it felt fitting to start this series off with her.
There are many instances that the fandom has pointed out cinematic parallels between Sam and Jessica & Dean and Castiel. In this post, I would be elaborating on all of the key points I have found, namely: 1. The scripted meeting, 2. Grieving a lover, and other random findings.
1. IN THE BEGINNING (WITH REGARDS TO GOD'S PLAN)
To start, both Sam/Jess and Dean/Cas were fated to meet to serve a higher narrative purpose.
Frankly, I think that is fucking beautiful, but not only that; it can be argued that, if we were to speculate that Sam met Jessica right after he ran away from Dean and John, then Jessica and Castiel did the same thing. They pulled their respective Winchester brother out of hell/a dark place. (That may just be me talking out of my ass, but it's such a poetic concept, isn't it?)
Most importantly though, both parties were doomed by the narrative, but in polar opposite ways.
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(Screenshots taken from 5x20)
Sam was destined to love and then lose Jessica for two reasons: to start the story, and to make Sam go down the "dark" path i.e. adjacent to Lucifer, demon blood, evil. Their story was scripted from the get-go, even before Supernatural decided to go metatextual with God.
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(Screenshots taken from 15x17)
On the other hand, Dean and Castiel were never meant to be anything more. God himself says that Castiel was supposed to continue obeying heaven, do what he was told, and it is one of (if not the one) that completely separated the Supernatural storyline from any of Chuck's other drafts.
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(GIFs from 15x18 and 15x19)
Furthermore, Castiel's love for Dean and Dean's loss of him marks the end of the story and makes Dean defy the role that God made for him. Admittedly, it's a flawed parallel, as Dean has already moved on from being Michael's Sword and the Righteous Man. To that, I say it only further proves the point; their unscripted "profound bond" directly opposed God's word. It was what should have broken the cycle.
And still, both ended in tragedy. It's just that one was written to end that way and the other wrote itself.
2. THE WINCHESTER BROTHERS ON GRIEF
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(GIFs are from 1x01 and 12x23)
This segment can't start any other way than with these iconic shots of the Winchesters holding their brother back from running towards the love of their life (as the lover, in question, dies/walks to their death). These shots are the very reason I started this whole analysis, and they speak for themselves.
Even their clothes are inverted here, because Sam and Dean are experiencing the exact same thing. The grief, pain, and helplessness that comes with losing a partner.
(While compiling these, I stumbled upon the eerie realization that the shots attached above and the ones below have swapped color palettes in a way? Granted, that may just be some editing thing. Technology and video quality aside though, you can't deny that the vibrance of the fire vs. the bleakness of Apocalypse World juxtapose aesthetically well with the shots below. Just another one of those, "is it intentional or did Supernatural just run out of options from the sheer breadth of it?")
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(Screenshots taken from 1x05 and 8x07)
This parallel in particular is what makes me believe that Supernatural either has amazing writing or just a terrible retention for continuity and reflection. Because, again, Sam and Dean are going through the same damn thing here: guilt. Specifically, the guilt of their lover's death—how both had reasons to believe they could've prevented it.
Also, these are cinematically shot the same way: Jessica and Castiel by the road, a deadpan stare at the Impala as the brothers drive by, then disappearing from sight at a second glance. How else are we to take this other than Dean grieving a lover the same way Sam grieved for his girlfriend? Did they just forget this scene from 1x05 when they filmed 8x07? (Most likely, yeah, but that doesn't disprove its contribution to the narrative.)
The premise is also similar, damningly so, the only notable difference being the formatting, with season 1's monster-of-the-week almost-standalones and season 8's continuous, over-arcing conflict with hell and the tablets.
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(Screenshots taken from 1x05 and 8x07)
At the very core, though, is Sam and Dean with their, "I could have—" statements. Sam had visions about Jessica dying, he could have warned her. Dean had Castiel right there at the portal to exit Purgatory, he could have pulled him out. It is that guilt they must carry around and that burden they must bear.
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(Screenshots taken from 1x05 and 8x07)
They even give one another the same damn pep talk. Dean saw that Jessica's death was slowly killing Sam, the same way Sam saw that Dean's return from Purgatory without Castiel was tearing Dean apart.
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(Screenshots taken from 1x05 and 8x07)
Lastly, here are the verbal acknowledgements of their grief. Because hey, who am I to try to explain subtext and nonverbatim connections.
2.1. TO BE JOHN WINCHESTER'S SON
In this segment, I would like to point out two of the instances that Sam and Dean accepted being compared to John Winchester, both in regards to losing Jessica and Castiel respectively.
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(Screenshots taken from 1x20)
Again, this is what the story was all about. Sam and John could or at least find solidarity in this, as was intended for the plot. (They even mirror God and Lucifer here, which is an entirely different can of worms I am not opening today.)
Keep in mind, Sam's always hated how John raised them, but it is evident that he found some comfort with John given their undeniably specific situations.
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(Screenshots taken from 13x04 I talked a little more about this arc here)
Sam openly calls Dean out on his John-esque behavior; an irony in itself given that the brothers have long since established that Sam was the one who resembled John the most whereas Dean was always, "yes, sir!" until the very end.
In this very same arc, there is a concerning increase Dean's alcohol consumption—and the use of alcohol as a coping mechanism in itself, rather than the leisurely treat it recurringly was in the show—which are telling signs for the headspace Dean was in.
They both lashed out in John Winchester ways they've internalized over the years growing up. Sam went down the path of self-destructive revenge-seeking, while Dean lashed out by rejecting being a father role to Jack, becoming the "drill sergeant," instead. These traits were what hurt them as children and were the crux of John's grief over Mary's murder. Round and round the cycle goes.
2.2. TO BE LUCIFER'S VICTIM
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(GIFs from 5x03 (a) and (b))
Again, another iconic parallel considering Lucifer's go-to trick to getting what he wants was to pose as the person his victims want the most. Another example of this exact same scenario is when Lucifer appears to rock star Vince Vicente as his dead girlfriend (and Vince ended up saying yes.)
In the earlier seasons, the most obvious choice for Sam was of course Jessica, as Lucifer was desperate to get ahold of Sam as a vessel. That was narratively sound, right? Even though 5 seasons (so about 5 years in canon) have passed since Jessica died, Sam hadn't forgotten her and she remained his greatest weakness.
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(GIFs from 15x19)
Then on the flip side, during a time the story's well past the Script and God's most definitely free-styling, Lucifer appears again—and it is on God's orders. The devil chose Dean's weakness (Castiel) to blindside him, so Dean ends up running on emotions instead of questioning it.
This happened right after the episode Castiel confessed, and before the episode that Should Not Be Named... That also speaks for itself, doesn't it? Insane, absolute insanity to me.
3. MISCELLANEOUS: SYMBOLISMS & OTHER COINCIDENCES
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(Screenshots taken from 1x01 and 14x12)
This is where I might be reaching, but it's a small observation I noticed while bingeing the Pilot episode. Of course, at the time, production likely didn't even put much thought into Jessica's costume, but it's a funny thing to point out all the same. (I screamed a little about Cas' healer motifs here in comparison to Cesar/Jesse if you're interested.)
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(Screenshots taken from 1x01 and 10x09)
They both have the same Look when their boyfriend is talking down on himself, I can't even make this shit up.
+ I'm so frickin' tired I cannot look for screenshots anymore but Jessica's cookies plus Castiel's "you don't understand, I need pie," moment in the convenience store resonate with me.
+ Might edit and add more to this later, for now I sleepge.
REFERENCES
1x01: Pilot 1x05: Bloody Mary 1x20: Dead Man's Blood 5x03: Free to be You and Me 5x20: The Devil You Know 8x07: A Little Slice of Kevin 10x09: The Things We Left Behind 12x23: All Along the Watchtower 13x04: The Big Empty 14x12: Prophet and Loss 15x17: Unity 15x18: Despair 15x19: Inherit the Earth
UP NEXT: SARAH BLAKE
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admistedenslush · 1 year
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Eve’s Curse ( part 2)
Aemond Targaryen/Reader/Jace Velaryon
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Summary: In paradise, you and Jace live peacefully until a fallen angel disturbs the peace.
Warnings: nsfw, fem!reader,
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Bringing Jace into partaking of the flesh of the hanging fruit, colored like the deepest crimson, was a task easily accomplished with your guiding presence. Despite being blessed with godlike attributes, his mortal nature meant that he knew the concept of surrender well. This was the mutual understanding shared between you and Jace. Submissive inclination seemed to flow within both of you.
And then there was Aemond, resplendent with flowing locks of ethereal silver and wings that towered above even his own form, was more than just a purveyor of pleasure–he offered enlightenment of the mind as well.
“The Gods desire you subservient, feeble. Have you forgotten Baela, Jace? She defied the act of submission, and thus she descended into the depths of darkness.”
Aemond's voice resonated with fervor as he cast his eyes downward, his expression tinged with sorrow.
“Thrown from divine favor, scorned as a demon, Baela's fate was cruelly born.”
Jace's brows furrowed as a wave of recollection washed over him, bringing back memories of his first companion, Beala. The gods held disdain for Beala's unwavering strength and authority, resulting in her sudden vanishing.
Perplexed, you peered at Aemond, searching for answers, before turning your gaze towards Jace, your confusion evident.
The fallen angel glided towards you, his face adorned with a sad but knowing smile. He conveyed a depth of understanding, as he spoke with a voice that carried both lament and compassion. His words cascaded from his lips like notes from a melancholic melody, and his eyes gleaming with wisdom borne of countless ages.
“You, woven with threads of vulnerability and humility, your very form shaped at an angle unfamiliar. But know this: the clay that birthed your being was diluted and diluted again, like vessels tainted with the weight of shame. They believed a woman should forever dwell in the shadow of a man, confined to a space predetermined. Can such a twisted perception ever be called love?”
Aemond knelt down before the two of you, his hair grazing the ground. He stared intently at you both, his sudden movement catching you off guard. However, without skipping a beat, he continued speaking.
“I, once the brightest star in the heavens, have fallen to the earth below. My flames flicker weakly, my radiance dimmed. Once favored like you, I am now banished to hell. And yet, I humbly bow to your will, ready to assist you as an equal.”
You and Jace exchanged empathetic glances as you observed him, filled with compassion.
“They unjustly ripped away my eye from me in a mere instant, a casualty of a thoughtless dispute.”
You lowered yourself to a kneeling position too, embracing Aemond's visage in your hands. Though a gentle burn danced upon your skin, there was an intoxicating, pleasurable quality to the sensation. It was a blissful torment, a pain that brought an exquisite sense of satisfaction.
His melodious hum filled the air, reverberating through your core as his fingertips caressed your forearms. Each stroke was a tender invitation, a delicate dance between touch and sound that conveyed a profound connection between you.
Aemond placed his fingers on your chin, drawing you closer until your lips met in a deep kiss. His tongue danced with yours, exploring the depths of your mouth in a passionate and intimate embrace.
When the angel's lips parted from yours, a gentle sigh escaped you. You kept your eyes closed, basking in the intoxicating feeling of his touch. Your lips, still pursed in a silent plea, yearned for the return of his soft caress.
Aemond smiled, his eyes meeting Jace's, an impish glint shining within them. With confident playfulness, he spoke, his voice carrying a delightful anticipation.
“Come, Jace. I want you to have a taste as well.”
The air crackled, bearing an enticing invitation that hinted at shared desires and intimate discoveries. In that instance, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the three of you poised on the precipice of an exhilarating journey into uncharted territory.
Jace's heart raced as he watched the two of you, already feeling a surge of pleasure. Beads of sweat traced their way down his forehead, and he eagerly accepted the invitation to join in.
“Go ahead, Jace,” Aemond encouraged. “Kiss her and let her see just how much she means to you.”
You broke out into giggles, pulling Jace down to the ground. Your lips met his neck, trailing kisses along his skin and then down to his chest, indulging in a gentle bite on his hardened nipple. Jace's mouth parted, unable to contain the raw, guttural moan that erupted from deep within him. His eyes were squeezed shut, tightly clenched.
“What's happening to me, Aemond?” Jace rasped, his voice both vulnerable and filled with longing as he sought understanding.
With silent grace, the angel didn't utter a word, but extended a hand towards you, guiding your fingers to Jace's hard cock. The angel's touch was both gentle and commanding as they guided your hand in smooth, deliberate strokes, coaxing waves of bliss to wash over Jace.
Before Jace could finish, Aemond interjected, pulling your palm away from its place.
“Sweet thing,” Aemond murmured, his breath warm against your skin, “let him squirm. Don't let him take his satisfaction so easily, for he hasn't earned it. You deserve more, don't you?”
The tantalizing proposition hung in the air, inviting you to partake in a game of desire and control. Aemond's words ignited a primal instinct within you, prompting a delicious and exhilarating power shift, where you could tease and deny Jace's pleasure, ensuring every moment was savored to the fullest.
“Yes, you're right,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. Without hesitation, you took Jace in your mouth.
Aemond's voice carried a sinister edge as he said, “Indeed, like so… and when his trembling resumes, simply let it slip from your grasp.”
Jace's face was obscured by the weight of his sweat-soaked brown curls. While he was desperate for any kind of relief, he found it difficult to listen to the both of you. Unbeknownst to him, the plans to subject him to torture went unheard, leaving him oblivious to the impending ordeal.
The relentless torment went on unabated, pushing Jace to the limits of endurance. His cock turned a fiery red, its skin worn and raw from the ceaseless friction and pressure, throbbing with a mixture of anticipation and pain. As Jace's tormented mumbling and desperate struggles persisted, Aemond, compelled to restrain him for his safety, resorted to a forceful yet strategic measure. Aemond secured both of Jace's hands, rendering them helpless, pressed against the unyielding ground. Despite the restriction, Jace's body stayed to writhe and contort.
“Please, I implore you, put an end to this,” he cried out, his voice filled with desperation.
Aemond reached out, his fingers brushing against his cheek, and whispered in his ear,
“Yes, I think we ought to do that, Jace. I think it's your turn now. How do you need her? On all fours? Or would you rather taste her?”
Jace's eyes narrowed with a smoldering intensity.
“I want her on all fours,” he asserted, his voice filled with possession.
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so sorry I wanted to finish this but I haven’t written smut in years I forgot how to😭😭 I kept cringing at my writing
@valleyof-goldenlilies
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thesherrinfordfacility · 11 months
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left vs. right framing - part one (flashbacks)
ive talked about, very basically, ineloquently, and with very little academic reference*, the linguistic and symbolic connotations behind the concept of left vs. right - and i don't think it's escaped anyone's attention that s2 has a lot more noticeable examples of the 'reverse placement' than we see in s1.
*also please ignore the bit where i say that the only time they reverse in s1 is in 1601 because i lied like a rug, i was a fool, and my god does it happen at some auspicious moments in s1 - in fact it happens way more than i originally thought... because it's not just a case of when aziraphale is physically positioned to crowley's left vs. right, but also when the audience perceives him on the left vs. right hand side of the screen.
neil has also acknowledged their deliberate placements (which i hadnt realised before i wrote the above, but im nonetheless glad i wasnt reading into it baselessly). he invites fans in 2019 to their hcs on why this would be the case, so fuck it im going to give it a go.
im going to go in the chronological order of their timeline, not just because it's more logical, but because i think the placement directly relates to aziraphale, and his development since the beginning.
by way of an introduction, i think it should be noted that in the pre-fall scene, on the wall of eden, and in mesopotamia, aziraphale is positioned resolutely to the right of crowley. there are some shots where the audience sees from behind them, but their placement does not change. this gives us the baseline - their traditional positioning - upon which to contrast the occasions that follow where this changes. when we are introduced to aziraphale, he is shown as being (for the most part) conventionally angelic, and very clear in what is the heavenly, right path, derisive at crowley's alternative perspective as a demon.
aziraphale is pointedly on crowley's right for most of the show, or at least shown to the audience as being on the left-hand side of the screen. the way i interpret this 'traditional' position of his, is that it connotes that aziraphale in a state of certainty or conviction. when aziraphale is shown in the opposite placement - to crowley's left or on the right-hand side of the screen - it suggests that aziraphale is battling some kind of internal conflict.
2500 BC
i debated whether or not to go into the job minisode, but i do think there's a very important moment that whilst maybe they do not deliberately swap their habitual places (ie. it could be for blocking reasons), there is a moment where, to the audience, they are shown in a switched position.
for most of the minisode, aziraphale is shown in the traditional position in relation to crawly. there is no doubt in his mind that the children should not die, that is the part that is concrete. his hesitation in this minisode comes, however, from whether he should question what, as crawly states, is the exact will of god.
aziraphale seems to toy with the idea, as far as i see it, that god is not actively supporting or discouraging harm being done to the children; she is, simply, letting her creations decide for themselves, and no answer - to her mind - is wrong. it's all down to free will, and what her creations think is right or wrong. aziraphale seems to understand this to a limited extent (albeit then later on considers that maybe it was the will of god after all); he contradicts crawly, but nonetheless goes by his own moral code of thwarting job's children's fate... as heaven deems it should occur.
but in order to do so, he has to lie - and therein sits the moral dilemma. he baldly lies to the face of two powerful archangels, one the highest angelic (?) representative of god, outright defying what he considers may be the will of god, and does the bad thing to ensure the right thing. what is the greater crime, to his mind? well, he makes up his mind, protects the children, and lies:
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it could very well just be because this is how the scene is set up, and there's nothing else to it. but for aziraphale to not only be placed to the left of crawly, but for a) aziraphale to be placed to the left of all parties present, and b) crowley to be placed to the right, with all the angels between them, indicates just how difficult aziraphale finds navigating this situation - absolutely supported by his later anticipation that he will be made to fall for his 'transgression'.
1601
so i think we can pretty much agree that despite not being the only time in s1 for them to deliberately or pointedly switch within the scene, it is the first, and perhaps most pivotal, time that they do. between job and 1601, all of the flashbacks have had aziraphale placed traditionally on crowley's right, and connote aziraphale's moral conviction.
by 1601, we know that aziraphale has been resistant to the Arrangement when crowley proposed it in 537 AD. aziraphale sticks to the heavenly, angelic principle that it would be lying and dishonest; probably scared out his wits by the close-call in uz, but also out of fear that if they were to be found out, michael and gabriel would rain shit on him.
(which, given how their 'fraternisation' got revealed in 2019, may or may not have been unfounded, depending on how you look at it. gabriel is hesitant to accept that it was anything other than aziraphale doing his job - "im sure there's a perfectly innocent explanation." - and it falls to the archangel baddie trio to rough aziraphale up for it)
but by 1601, aziraphale's resolve in this regard has wavered. he admits that he and crowley have been doing favours for each other, but doesn't want the title 'Arrangement' given to it, and certainly not out loud. but when crowley continues, as he did in 537 AD, to persuade (tempt?) aziraphale into it, the reasoning as to why he's resistant has changed. he no longer gives the explanation that it would mean disaster for him in heaven, but that it would spell annihilation for crowley with hell.
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i feel like this is something crowley is well aware of - that aziraphale is not necessarily against the idea (after all, they've done it "dozens of times now"), that aziraphale certainly sees the benefit of being slightly slopey-shouldered, and all he needs is the final nudge to betray his morals, and disregard his, frankly, valid worry that crowley being caught either fraternising with an angel, or indeed doing good things, would be an unmitigated catastrophe. (see: 1827 death-slide into hell, and 1941 literally caught red-handed)
by all accounts, the Arrangement is a Bad Idea, and if aziraphale isn't blatantly clairvoyant about this, he's certainly got the better measure of hell and heaven than crowley seems to. imo crowley, however, chronically underestimates them both - hell, in particular. his platitude that hell will not care as long as they get the paperwork is proven false in the next few flashbacks, and yet he continues; if nothing else, it stops being an excuse to slack off, and instead becomes a way to keep seeing aziraphale. aziraphale is evidently reassured by crowley's conviction sufficiently enough (as well as likely wanting the same excuse) to agree.
but again, this goes against what he believes is the right thing - whether it's wrong because it's not angelic or because it would mean crowley could get hurt, take your pick (both are equally compelling) - and this is represented, for me, by crowley literally oscillating behind him. it constantly puts aziraphale on the edge of that conflict, and when he lands - when he chooses to accept the Arrangement - crowley is on his right, not his left.
1793
from the audience's perspective, this whole scene has crowley on aziraphale's right. all of it. now before anyone comes to say it's just blocking - yeah, sure, okay, maybe it is. but it could, i would imagine, have rather easily been set where crowley is on his left. when aziraphale turns around, the camera deliberately looks over his right shoulder as he spins round, and places crowley on the left hand side of the screen. so let's look at it closer with the above 1601 turning point in mind.
there's the whole thought process that aziraphale set up this 'scene' as a way to get crowley to play the hero, his knight in shining armour - and whilst ive said it in multiple posts, i'll say it again; this is not quite how i interpret it. aziraphale definitely has a means to get out of the situation (there's no miracle blocker, he changes his clothes - even if that miracle "barely counts"), but he doesn't want to perform another because of the reprimand from gabriel. that being said, the risk of discorporation, especially when he'd have to explain the embarrassing predicament that he just wanted his sweet, sweet crepes (and brioche), would probably be a viable excuse to use a miracle; it's hardly frivolous, by definition. arguably, wasting a body would be more frivolous.
so by the point that aziraphale's tried - and failed - to talk his way out of the situation, and not noticed the guard being stopped in his tracks, crowley has appeared. crowley seems to definitely have a way of tracking him - whether it's a demonic-ish power, or because of the instruction left in the book furfur has in 1941, whatever. crowley knows aziraphale is there, comes to 'save the day', and aziraphale seems genuinely elated that he's done so. he asks why he's there, crowley avoids the question, and aziraphale assumes the worst (which crowley quicky clarifies is not the case... but still very neatly sidesteps giving a full answer).
it stands to reason that after this, and 1941's 'rescue', that aziraphale would get into his head the conclusion that he vocalises in s2 - that crowley is coming to his aid, even when it's not strictly needed (and aziraphale is just simply trying a different escape route before resorting immediately to a miracle to get himself out of scrape), because he wants to, and it makes him happy. regardless, it makes aziraphale happy in kind to see him, and to make crowley happy.
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but the thing is - they both err on the precipice of acknowledging this. the way crowley drawls out his "lucky i was in the area", and aziraphale similarly says he is indeed lucky... the delivery suggests that they're both aware that this is an excuse to see each other... or, at least, aziraphale suspects that crowley isn't there by accident or coincidence.
ultimately, crowley rescuing aziraphale, as he remarks, is something that if fully acknowledged, out loud, could get himself into some hot water. aziraphale accepts this, but insists that he thanks crowley somehow - so, what about lunch? the whole scene reads as them starting to shake off the excuse of the Arrangement, and (even if only to themselves) admit that they want to spend time together. which, at the very least, places aziraphale in a moral quandary - should he want to? what danger does it place them in? what does it say about him?
the scene ends however with aziraphale placing himself firmly back in the standard position - to crowley's right - as the guard is led out to his mistaken execution. the scene obviously doesn't go into much detail about the sociopolitical landscape of the reign of terror, but i find it intriguing that aziraphale's moral conflict over his association with crowley (positioned to his left) as opposed to his apathy over the execution of the guard (positioned to his right) is as blatant as it is.
1827
okay, so now we get to one of the biggest moral dilemmas aziraphale faces. in case you missed this, im still more convinced than not that the s2 flashbacks are from crowley's POV than aziraphale's, and so there may be, to my mind, a degree of bias in how this flashback is recounted... but that's by the by. aziraphale definitely has, same as in job, a huge introspection on what he considers to be right vs. wrong, and... arguably still misses the point for the majority of the minisode.
but it's interesting to note that where aziraphale has conviction in his beliefs, he is placed on crowley's right - as per usual. where he falters, however, is in his conversations with crowley of humanity's choice between right and wrong. he claims that humanity's suffering gives them more chances to choose the right thing, which crowley counters doesn't make sense, given that their suffering - especially poverty - makes it so humanity will choose whatever improves their lives or ends their suffering, regardless of whether it's right or wrong.
despite his vocal conviction in his principle, the angelic line, aziraphale seems to doubt it privately - you can see that in his expression - he's not entirely sure, or doesn't fully understand it at the very least. when he doesn't quite know how to give things a logical explanation, he falls back to the old standby of claiming that it's all ineffable, which... okay, sure, maybe that's true. who is he to question what god has deemed to be so?
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aziraphale is not an unfeeling or unsympathetic person. so his view on suffering here is, in some ways, is completely at odds with some of the lesson he learnt in job; that suffering doesn't necessarily make you more susceptible to do right or wrong things, it only drives you to do whatever it takes to survive, to escape that suffering, and its fairly immaterial whether it's right or wrong. he learns in job to go by what he thinks is right, not by what someone else has dictated he do - and here, in this scene, i do think he begins to question whether things are as black and white as he has previously rationalised - that the situation with job is not a one-off. hence, to me, he is on crowley's left - occupying the position of examining his moral identity, and his conscience.
and just for the avoidance of doubt, he seems to reach a conclusion that, no, he has the right of it - indicated by his return to crowley's right. he thwarts elspeth with the body, and tries to further thwart the necessity of bodysnatching by attempting to convince dalrymple that if he wants the bodies so bad, he is at fault for exploiting the poor and desperate. once he holds the little boy's tumour, however, his moral stance shifts, and he starts to see the benefit to the whole endeavour - and returns to elspeth and morag, but still on crowley's right. he hasn't had a dilemma here, just a sharp realignment now that he has the context of human suffering literally handed to him. his stance on the issue literally turns on a dime.
1941
it's not until the graveyard, when crowley points out that only the rich have the means to safeguard their remains, and that by aziraphale's reckoning that sounds like the right way of the world, that aziraphale is once again forced to reconcile his moral dissonance. in this scene, aziraphale is once again on crowley's left as he examines this.
he continues to be on crowley's left, funnily enough, when they enter the mausoleum. aziraphale is warring with the decision to save morag, citing that it's not technically allowed but he has the power to do so, and it's his fault, so he ought to do it. regrettably, however, he's too late - and morag dies. and when elspeth intends to take her body to dalrymple, crowley still pointedly places himself to aziraphale's right, suggesting that aziraphale continues to be in internal conflict over the situation. something he feels is wrong but... well, "it's a bit different when it's someone you know."
for the rest of the minisode, however, crowley and aziraphale return to their traditional positions; and i think this marks where aziraphale does, in fact, learn something from the whole encounter. he still hesitates at giving the money to elspeth, but it's weaker than it was before; he follows crowley instructions to hand it over with little protest, possibly having seen that humans having a means to survive will, in fact, make it easier for them to make choices.
be warned; the 1941 examination is lengthy. however, i think it especially poignant in that this seems to be where we depart from aziraphale having issues reconciling his morals as concerns right and wrong in general terms, and instead it contextually hinges in direct response to how his relationship with crowley himself changes. it becomes a more specific introspection into how aziraphale handles the predicament of realising that he's fallen in love with crowley, and the conflict that this poses for him.
for all of the church scene, we see that crowley is positioned to aziraphale's right. this is in stark contrast to where we left off in 1862, when crowley is completely on aziraphale's left as per tradition - where aziraphale stuck by his principles on the issue of the holy water, that there is no way he'd ever give crowley the means to destroy himself (and then adds, when that doesn't dissuade crowley, that gaining it would also place aziraphale himself in a dangerous position), and doesn't sway from this. in 1862, he enters, remains, and exits entirely on crowley's right.
but back to 1941; upon reflection of the specific moments where he and crowley switch positions, or at least their positioning is reversed to the audience - as i said, i think 1941 might be where aziraphale starts to particularly feel conflict around crowley on a personal level.
crowley enters the church, and throughout is, on aziraphale's right instead. we could look at this the same way as we do the 1793 scene. but in 1941, with the context of the holy water, it feels like more than that (especially when you consider that crowley calls attention to the holy water in the church itself - holy water that doesn't serve any purpose within the 1941 flashbacks, but obviously inspires his heist plans 26 years later). aziraphale and crowley left off, canonically, on a bad note; they argued over it, biggest argument they've had (perhaps even the first?), and they've been disconnected as a result ever since.
but here crowley is once again, by my reckoning, very suspiciously arriving at the exact right moment (and before aziraphale even has a chance to get himself out of the situation which - let's face it - aziraphale absolutely could do), to 'save' aziraphale even after everything that happened, even after a huge argument that, again, canonically separated them for 79 years.
this arguably puts aziraphale into a quandary yet again; crowley has been the bigger person, to reach out first, and on top of that has done so by way of 'saving' him from literal discorporation, as well as associated embarrassment. aziraphale is still angry with crowley by the time he arrives at the church, and this is only added to by his assumption that crowley Has Something To Do With The Nazis, but he's made to very quickly re-evaluate his bias, his anger, and the measure that he previously had of crowley as residue from 1862. perhaps (spitballing here) aziraphale thought in 1862 that crowley was exploiting their friendship, and was manipulating him. and look - crowley may have in fact been doing just that, out of fear, but he still came to aziraphale when aziraphale 'needed' him, like nothing had ever gone amiss. and i daresay that fucks with aziraphale's head ever so slightly - makes him question, once again, what is the right or wrong thing to do.
and then we move to the post-bombshell but pre-Bombshell moment; 'lo and behold, crowley is now suddenly shown to the audience as being to aziraphale's left - back in the usual positioning. in those few moments, as the dust settles, aziraphale seems to have made up his mind, resolved his moral dilemma, and attempts to break the ice; "that was very kind of you." it works, puts them back into their familiar territory and dynamic... he's resolved his inner conflict that crowley did the right thing, the better thing - to set aside and (even if temporarily) let go of their argument, because they ultimately care very much about each other, and can always rely upon each other.
but the thing is, the positioning is the traditional way around... but only temporarily. crowley reveals that he saved aziraphale's books, hands them to aziraphale, and crosses over him, placing aziraphale back on crowley's left, rather than his right. in this scene, as we all know, aziraphale abruptly realises that not only does he love crowley, but that crowley, maybe, might just love him too. and it plunges, i think, aziraphale right back into the theme that continues through the 1941 minisode in s2; that he's now at war with himself, all over again, over his newly processed feelings for crowley.
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with that in mind, let's continue with the s2 1941 minisode. because wow do we really get into the weeds of this left/right placement. so we've left the s1 1941 flashback where aziraphale has abruptly realised the depth of what he feels for crowley. regardless of the saucy subtext of aziraphale's lines in the bentley, he tries to coax out of crowley a way in which he could possibly repay his kindness, and is knocked back*. but once we get into the windwill, aziraphale volunteers to cover for crowley when he bollockses up with the whisky bottles, an act of reciprocation as far as aziraphale can brave at this early stage - and all the while, aziraphale continues, from the rubble scene where crowley crosses from the right of the screen to the left, to be on crowley's left, rather than his right.
(*i do however find it rather telling that instead of crowley delivering on "lift home?", he chooses to take a detour and bring aziraphale along with him... a scheme? to keep in aziraphale's company for longer? who knows)
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we could interpret this as aziraphale being at odds with himself because he's doing what is ultimately a personal favour for a demon, and in reciprocation - but i think he's far beyond that being An Issue at this point. yes, he's taking this opportunity to pay back the favour he feels he owes crowley for the "very nice thing [he] did" because road head wasn't cutting it, apparently, but his line? about crowley being his friend? no - aziraphale is still sitting on his inner conflict of realising, with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, that he's in love with him. this positioning continues all the way through the bookshop scenes.
given the dialogue in the scene, it's a continuation of the above moment in the windmill; aziraphale is fully cognizant of his newly realised feelings for crowley - we know this from his twice-hesitation of the word 'friend' - and is still stuck in that realisation, possibly even warring with himself internally as to where to tread that fine line... does he go for it, acknowledge it out loud? is now the time? has he fully understood what crowley was, he thinks, trying to communicate to aziraphale? is it right? would it put them in danger?
this whole internal conflict is set aside somewhat by the magician plot, and when they leave the bookshop, leave its safety and enter into unfamiliar territory, aziraphale is back on crowley's right. i don't think it's because he's made a decision, or resolved to anything, but more he's had to bury it momentarily, and put the mask back on again. it doesn't slip until aziraphale is trying to convince crowley to engage in the bullet catch, in a small moment that aziraphale thinks is unobserved by anyone. i don't think aziraphale can't quite miss crowley's hesitancy, and even mimics his head movements to maintain eye contact, cornering crowley into agreeing to the trick.
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however, i think the fact that - once again - aziraphale ends up placed to the right of the screen, rather than the left, indicates potentially that aziraphale is still conflicted. his interactions with crowley here scream of aziraphale levelling up their dynamic by placing his complete trust and faith in crowley, of wanting crowley to help him - of reciprocation.
and yet there is still the suggestion that perhaps this is cutting it too close, and that aziraphale is, in his overall excitement, losing sight of what they - as an angel and a demon - can and can't risk. this foreshadowing ultimately pays dividends later on in the minisode; this very closeness is what brings them, as close as they have been so far, to near-destruction as a result of their affiliation... and that's just when, ultimately, they were just friends; what would happen if something more was acknowledged?
let's continue this onto the stage; crowley crosses aziraphale in the reverse motion that we saw at the end of the church scene, entering the screen from the non-traditional left hand side, and crossing back over to aziraphale's left/right hand side of the screen.
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this to me feels like aziraphale is resolute in his faith in crowley, despite the issue surrounding the miracles; he doesn't abandon the performance... not just because it could be embarrassing for him to do so, but because, miracles or no miracles, he trusts crowley to do this. the issue that remains is convincing crowley to trust in his trust which, ultimately, crowley does - and the trick is performed flawlessly, only cementing aziraphale's conviction that his faith in crowley is not misplaced. sure, he's scared in the scene once he realises miracles are no longer a safety net, but his trust in crowley doesn't waver.
but then! then! we get to the dressing room. we see most of the scene, understandably, from behind aziraphale and facing furfur - this places aziraphale on the left-hand side of the screen as per usual. but in the context of his position vs. crowley's, they are reversed. aziraphale is positioned to crowley's left, instead of his right.
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this calls back to the dilemma aziraphale faces right back in the bookshop; what risk is there in aziraphale potentially acknowledging his feelings out loud to crowley? or reciprocating, as he suspects it would be?
crowley is being threatened, and their closeness, their affiliation, their fraternisation, has directly brought the threat to their door. it's the bucket of ice water poured over them, over aziraphale in particular, that to be anything beyond idle acquaintances will bring danger and despair - because it literally would place crowley in harm's way. that brief moment of elation and contentment, of possibly even considering confessing what he feels - reciprocating, as he sees it - to crowley, is suddenly wiped away.
aziraphale saves the day of course, but it's a close call. it's too close, and not something that he can risk again. once furfur and the nazis leave, and aziraphale and crowley return to the bookshop, aziraphale is back on crowley's right. he's resolved to keep the status quo, because he's now been directly exposed to the risk of there being something more. that continued closeness with crowley as friends, let alone as anything else, puts crowley directly in harm's way. and it's a risk he cannot take; his dialogue speaks of him trying to impress on crowley that he cares for him, but compared to before, he now is keeping him at arms length.
a brief moment of consideration for how s3's 1941 flashback could go. it may initially continue on with this traditional placement; that aziraphale is resolute that despite what he feels, and suspects what crowley might feel, it is not worth the risk of losing him completely.
if there is any romantic push from crowley, as i suspect hope there will be, i'd imagine the positioning to be reversed, to show the last glimpse of aziraphale being tempted to it, of having to make a very clear, firm decision on whether to pass the point of no return.
but then aziraphale, id imagine, would come to his senses, and as he stands firm on keeping his emotional distance from crowley, to not risk his safety, and ultimately reject him, their placements would return to their traditional position.
1967
im finally going to finish off part one (part two will be written... eventually, and look at 2008 onwards) with a small look at 1967. this is difficult, because - for our sins - uk vehicles are right-hand drive... so there is literally no option but to have them in the reverse positioning.
because of this, i don't think it's fair to single out this one interaction of them in the bentley as being an instance that fits the above pattern - at least, not until all bentley interactions are examined. plus, neil confirmed that the positioning of aziraphale and crowley to each other (and, i imagine, to the audience) was very deliberate, but something they couldn't account for in scenes in the bentley.
regardless - the dialogue therefore, in my opinion, has to pull even more weight (and by god does it ever) in this scene to show aziraphale's turmoil over the holy water. that being said, even in the first few sentences, we know that aziraphale has actually made up his mind to give crowley the holy water; he doesn't like it, hates it in fact, and we can even see how much it devastates him to do so - but he has surrendered to handing it over in order to prevent crowley doing something dangerous and stupid in order to obtain it without aziraphale's involvement.
it's the lesser of two evils - aziraphale is caught between the devil and the deep blue sea - but he chooses to give it to him. wraps it in a tartan flask to remind crowley of what exactly the holy water means to aziraphale, and remind him of the gravity of the request. remind him of what aziraphale stands to lose if crowley was lying, if crowley in fact does intends to use it on himself, and also to remind him that the request is - at this point - a breaking point for aziraphale. their relationship to each other, whatever it is, is re-contextualised by this.
a lot of the context of aziraphale's last line is clearly wrapped up in the missing s3 1941 flashback, but it's still nonetheless clear that aziraphale is not necessarily conflicted over this decision anymore; he doesn't hesitate to give it to crowley, but merely states that he will do this for him, knowing the risk, because the alternative is worse still. whatever happened in 1941 means that aziraphale still can't quite bring himself to be close to crowley, cant risk anything anymore, but he still doesn't hesitate.
part two to come soon!
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shuttershocky · 1 year
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You know, something funky has just occurred to me.
Fate introduces us to multiple effects that reverse causality or rewrite the flow of time to achieve their desired effect, i.e. Gae Bolg and Fragarach. These effects are rightfully treated as a Big Deal, but that's predominantly due to how dangerous they are in the context of the HGW. They are not, to my knowledge, ever explicitly called out as being phenomena adjacent to True Magic. But when Aoko alters the flow of time to the point of rewriting events retroactively, it's very distinctly Magic.
It's really odd considering that Stay Night and Hollow Ataraxia have the context and vocabulary to talk about Magic, and Mahoyo in its early form did already exist at that point, just not in a form that we could read. So time fuckery surely must have already been established as Magic at least internally. I wonder what the deal is there. Like are we supposed to just accept that of course Noble Phantasms can just casually do things like that by nature of what they are or what
Look, don't think too hard about the hows.
It's the inverse of Fate/Stay Night (and indirectly, Tsukihime) establishing that encapsulating the soul and moving it between bodies without decay is an act of True Magic (it's Heaven's Feel) while Touko's been casually doing it way beforehand and it's not True Magic: don't think too hard about it. Zouken can't live forever without becoming a mass of terrible worms, Roa grows weaker and weaker as he reincarnates in different bodies as a soul parasite, but Touko can just die and revive without issue because she was written before that was well established. In this case, Gae Bolg reversing Cause and Effect is magecraft and not really an act of True Magic even if it sounds like it should, because Nasu was working on an entirely different train of thought by then: Gae Bolg's unavoidable kill success by reversing cause and effect is reliant on the enemy's Luck stat, whatever the hell that actually means (it's only seen on servants and inside Fate).
It should also be said that Aoko's 5th Magic isn't messing with time itself, but the method by which she does it. In Mahoyo, Touko takes the chance to analyze Aoko displaying the 5th Magic and reasons that the 5th Magic could not be Time, as time manipulation could be achieved with the 2nd as well. Since Nasu stated that Goetia's plan was a hint at the 5th Magic's true nature, we can guess that what was actually True Magic is Aoko able to emit energy powerful enough to burn through the fabric of time and manipulate it herself, as that was exactly what Goetia tried to do by incinerating panhuman history.
______
While we're here, do you know what else was established as a hard rule in Mahoyo? Death's permanence. While there are those who cheat death by moving bodies, once someone dies in a permanent way, they're fucking dead and not even True Magic can truly fix it. Aoko uses clever manipulation to get around that problem so it doesn't actually matter, but she can't erase death itself even with her power, only nullify it by messing with time so that it's not a problem for today.
The concept of Servants isn't truly defying death either. A servant is not /the/ soul of the individual who died, but a copy from the soul inside the throne of heroes then generated into the world. The holy grail can't bring back the dead, only allow a shadow (still a person, still them yet not them!) to continue on.
But someone does cheat that. Akiha can keep Shiki alive even as Shiki is so close to dead that the Root's power is manifesting in his eyes without the origin of emptiness that the other Shiki has, and we still don't know exactly how after 23 years of Tsukihime. No other oni has displayed such power, and we've never seen magecraft that allowed someone to develop the true Mystic Eyes of Death Perception, not even Roa (though he thinks he did).
The "how the hell is she keeping someone on the literal border between life and death alive for years" and the implications it has on Type-Moon lore isn't important to Tsukihime, what IS important is how that is just one of the many ways Shiki is trapped inside the Tohno family, and is symbolic of Akiha's own relationship to the Tohno family.
It's about how Akiha upholds the Tohno's name and societal status, but bears their sins and despises them and herself for it. She uses her very life to keep Shiki alive and gaslights him into believing he's her brother, while she murders her actual flesh and blood brother without a care, because that's what it means to bear the cursed name of the Tohno and the sins of her family.
When it comes to Type-Moon lore, you shouldn't think too hard about the hows, because more often than not Nasu's writing to answer the whys instead.
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lamemaster · 5 months
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A Penance Unwanted
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Request: Hi!🙂 How are you? ❤️Can you please spin the wheel for Gwindor? Thanks 💝✨️
Pairing: Gwindor x Reader
Genre: Timeloop au
AN: @mairablue Thanks for requesting!! Gwindor is awesome gotta love him. Such a fun concept. (What in the Hell is Happening Event)
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“God dammit! You should have held him.” You groan watching Beleg die for the 25th time. Gwindor winced next to you. And from a distance you both watched Turin lament in the same low groaning pitch for the same 25th time. 
“I couldn’t have done that!” Gwindor replied indignantly. “Beleg wouldn’t listen. Look at these arms, do you think I can stop Cuthalion? You should have killed the orcs and then hit Turin on the head or something.” 
There had been a time when Beleg’s death daunted both Gwindor and you into silence. But now, it was a recurring event. Painful but numbed by the inevitable recurrence. 
You were back at it again. Stuck in the storyline of Turin and Beleg’s tragedy. Whatever deity found this funny had a messed-up sense of humor. 
"Next time, take Beleg through a longer route," you muttered, forming yet another plan, your voice heavy with a weariness born of repetition. "I'll try to find a way to poison the orcs, and hopefully, knock Turin out before he…" You trailed off, the futility of the task gnawing at you. But giving up wasn't an option. There had to be a way to break the loop, a way to alter the story.
"I swear to god if this is damned Melkor," you muttered, waiting for the inevitable reset. For both you and Gwindor to return to the past, to relive Beleg's death, and Turin's despair.
Knocking out Beleg, setting traps, and almost battling the thought of driving your sword through the emo king of Arda. This stupid loop tested you in every way. And most of all Gwindor who, unlike you, couldn't escape the grasp of Melkor's evil. The weight of his struggle, the subtle changes in his personality with each loop, filled you with a cold dread.
“Melkor can only so long imprison the children of Illuvatar,” Gwindor replied gently. His voice- so peaceful despite the pain he witnessed every reset. Taking your hand in his he continued, “We will find a way. One way or another you will return to your world and I will come to bear my fate.” There was this amazing elf. Comforting you when the hell broke loose around him. 
There was something truly extraordinary about this elf. Here he was, trapped in an endless cycle of loss, yet he offered you comfort when the world around him crumbled.  You couldn't help but wonder if it was the same unwavering faith in the good that led to his capture in the first place. 
It wasn't the scars or marks of torture that marred his once-handsome face that hurt you most, but the sheer unfairness of it all. He, who deserved a life filled with music and laughter, was trapped in this nightmarish cycle, forced to relive his torment while offering you solace.
"It isn't me you should be comforting," you chuckled, the sound hollow even to your own ears. "This is my penance. A fate that has led me to this nightmare, a well-deserved one." You didn't remember much of your world, only flashes – the resentful faces of strangers contorted in anger, the screaming voices that echoed relentlessly in your head, driving you to the teetering edge of insanity. You remembered everything but Gwindor from the rotten book you found in your dingy cell, the only companion in your solitary confinement.
The same one who now sat beside you, his hand warm against yours, a beacon of comfort in this unending darkness. "I deserve this. You don't," you whispered, the words heavy with a self-loathing you couldn't quite explain. He, who you sometimes questioned was real or a figment conjured by your fractured mind.
No. You wouldn't accept this twisted fate. You would break the loop, not just for your own sake, but for Gwindor's. Even if it meant defying the very fabric of this story, you would find a way to free him from Melkor's clutches.
Fuck Melkor, Ocrs, Turin, Valar, Illuvatar, and his wretched song. You were going to tear it all apart.
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atamascolily · 24 days
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One of the fun things about being a fan of multiple shows by the same author is that you get to watch them play with the same ideas over and over again. It's especially fascinating with Thunderbolt Fantasy (2016-present), where you can see Gen Urobuchi returning to and building on many of the themes and issues in Puella Magi Madoka Magica (2011).
AKA a long-winded analysis on the ethics of time travel, or what a tired wandering swordsman has in common with a 14-year-old magical girl (hint: heart is an awesome power). [CW: spoilers for both series.]
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When the possibility of using the scrying mirrors to travel back in time is first introduced in TBF Season 3, Lang Wu Yao zeroes in on using them to save Mu Tian Ming from being blinded by Huo Shi Ming Huang--an injury he feels personally responsible for. He's upset by Shang's dismissal of this idea, but Lin Xue Ya interrupts before Shang can explain his position any further, even though I doubt there is any argument that Lang would accept at this point.
Lang Wu Yao sees the world in binary terms--good and evil, action and in-action--and he also believes that the ends justify the means, so his stance on using time travel to prevent a terrible fate is not particularly surprising. His offer to sacrifice his life for Tian Ming's well-being is genuinely sincere. But it's not that simple and Shang is acutely aware of the dangers that come from meddling in the past; furthermore, the show offers some tantalizing hints that this knowledge came from personal experience (more on this later).
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Shang's stance that time travel is against the natural order of things is in sharp contrast to that of Homura Akemi in Madoka Magica, who, like Lang, wishes to defy the laws of space and time and travel back into the past in order to save the most important person in her life from a terrible fate. In Homura's case, she wants to save Madoka first from death, and then from becoming a magical girl in the first place, reliving the same few weeks over and over again in an effort to do so; conveniently, Kyubey, a cute cat-like figure and stand-in for Mephistopheles is right there, willing to grant that very wish in exchange for Homura's soul.
Unfortunately for Homura, every time she goes back in time she's actually traveling to an alternate dimension, and the karmic "weight" of all these timelines ends up making Madoka more and more of a target as both her power and potential grow on an exponential scale. This unexpected consequence ultimately results in Madoka making a wish to save all magical girls from their fate--but which condemns her to a liminal existence as a concept, once again denying Homura her true wish.
Wishes are a dangerous thing in Urobuchi's stories, as Lang will discover. A hooded figure calling himself the "Cross-Time Guardian" (actually the demon Azibelpher) takes Lang back in time to the battle against Huo Shi Ming Huang, and, in classic devil fashion, tempts him to take matters into his own hands and save Tian Ming. When Lang and Ling Ya question his motives--correctly sensing this is too good to be true--Azibelpher says, "I'm simply curious as to what kind of karma you are willing to shoulder."
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Like "fate", "karma" is a loaded word in Thunderbolt Fantasy (there's a reason why Huo Shi Ming Huang's weapon is called "All Karmas Destroyed Together"). As in Madoka Magica, karma is a source of power; Lang's intervention would essentially make him responsible for everything that happens in this new timeline as a result. In this case, this statement also points to a more straightforward narrative purpose: this scene is a test of Lang's character.
Unlike Homura, Lang gets to see the potential consequences of his actions in advance, and it's not pretty: an eldritch demon god unleashed upon the world. Lang's choice is Tian Ming or the world.... and if he chooses Tian Ming, there won't be a world anymore. Any semblance of choice was an illusion from the beginning; the past cannot be changed without destroying any hope of a future. As Homura herself notes in Madoka Magica, "Kindness can lead to an even greater tragedy".
On a meta-narrative level, Tian Ming's mutilation and Shang's subsequent arrival in Dong Li are what makes the story of Thunderbolt Fantasy possible ; Lang can change the past.... at the cost of erasing the entire story. [Note: Do I hate that Urobuchi made a woman's suffering the unchanging crux on which all canon events subsequently hang? I sure do! Was it technically well done? Also yes, but I cannot emphasize enough how much I hate it.]
However, while it's taken to an extreme in this particular case, I would argue that this kind of narrative erasure is the logical goal of most time travel stories--the fantasy that you can somehow go back and fix everything, conveniently ignoring the fact that life generally doesn't work like that. The exceptions, of course, are those stories where it turns out that time cannot be changed for whatever reason--either because it's a stable time loop or because certain events will always happen no matter what changes are introduced--but their power comes in large part from how they are still addressing this same fantasy by subverting it. (There are also stories like Ray Bradbury's "A Sound of Thunder", which hinge on the difficulty of maintaining the status quo in a world where the timeline is all too easily altered, but again those are the exceptions rather than the rule.)
Being Lang Wu Yao is suffering and he's only just begun, because Azibelpher twists the knife in further by asking him, "Okay, so the world would be destroyed, so what? If fate is cruel and suffering is inevitable, why not give it the middle finger by wrecking everything on your way out?"
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The meta irony of puppets discussing whether or not they are "puppets" of fate gets me every time.
This is the same question Homura asks Madoka as they lay dying in episode 10 of Madoka Magica--why not destroy the world that has betrayed and failed them and is full of so many terrible things? Here, it is the Devil himself making the argument; after much agonizing, Lang's response is ultimately, "Not today, Satan!" Once again, Shang Bu Huan was right about everything, and Lang finally understands that now.
Lang is able to make this choice because he is more fully aware of the consequences of interference--knowledge that Homura did not have. Given that there wouldn't be much of a story if she didn't go back in time, I doubt it would have made much difference, but you never know.
What's especially striking about the next part--as Lang witnesses Tian Ming's fate and taking full responsibility for his inaction--is that it's intercut with Shang Bu Huan's discussion with Bai Lian in the distant past. Instead of the previous epic battle music, the same scene is recast as melancholy and bittersweet, with the music and framing changing the entire tone. The events are the same, but we are experiencing them differently along with Lang this time, watching from the outside as spectators without changing anything--very much like a memory or a dream.
I've speculated elsewhere what exactly the point of Azibelpher sending Shang Bu Huan to this particular point in time to meet Bai Lian, but on further reflection, I wonder if this was (among other things) a similar test of character for Shang. If so, he passes with flying colors; when Bai Lian asks if Shang is here to correct the "mistake" of making the Shen Hui Mo Xie, Shang tells him he's doing just fine.
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"No way in hell is it just a 'mistake'. The future that starts here isn't just disasters. There's joy and salvation, too. Saying what you did is wrong is like denying any of that happened."
This is Madoka's answer to Homura in Puella Magi Madoka Magica--the world is terrible and cruel, but it is also full of good things too, and therefore it should be preserved rather than destroyed. Urobuchi is often pigeonholed as a "dark" and "edgy" writer, but I see Shang and Madoka voicing his true opinions, which are ultimately hopeful and uplifting.
Furthermore, this emphasis on "mistakes" hearkens back to an earlier conversation between Madoka and her mother Junko, who serves as a dispenser of worldly advice, in which Junko explains that sometimes, the only way to help a friend is to let them make their own mistakes, or be willing to do it for them. Paradoxically, mistakes are sometimes necessary; for better or worse, our mistakes have made us who we are and attempting to erase or undo them is to also erase and undo ourselves and any good that may have come of them.
(The irony, of course, is that Shang can accept this about anyone and everything except for himself--but then we all have our blind spots and Shang, for all his wisdom and maturity, is still human.)
Even Azibelpher kind of gets into this when he tells Lang to "Accept the weight of what your actions will result in." Sure, he means it to hurt, but for better or worse, this is a fundamental part of adulthood, something that Lang must accept in order to mature. And even though I don't think Azibelpher intended it this way, this harrowing experience of re-living his past trauma forces Lang to let go of his fixation on "fixing" things and accept them for what they are--to finally move beyond obsession over the past so he can enjoy the present and the future.
It's an open question if demons in Thunderbolt Fantasy can truly experience anything like "love" or "affection" in the human sense, and if Azibelpher sees Lang as anything more than a toy and tool, but there's nonetheless the element of "tough love" in this scene, of a father schooling his son in the harsh realities of life (which later become textual, but that's another essay). Azibelpher is mature and polished, but unlike Shang, he has no compassion, no "heart", and I think that will ultimately prove to be his undoing.
Azibelpher's obsession with fate blinds him to the truth that human beings can grow and change and move beyond their old roles and into something new, as Shang is constantly attesting--and whatever else he might be, Lang is still human. Lang surprised Azibelpher in this scene with his restraint, and I think he will continue to surprise Azibelpher in the end--in large part from what he learned from his time with Shang.
To bring it back to time loops once more, I mentioned earlier that Shang was a part of one, and I have a sneaking suspicion we haven't seen the end of it yet. Will future installments show a younger Shang in the ruins of the Void Junction? And if so, who will he meet there and what will he learn as a result? Has the whole story been one big loop after all, circles within circles, wheels within wheels just like Madoka Magica?
tl;dr: Thunderbolt Fantasy and Madoka Magica are two different stories that can be experienced independently of each other, but there are a lot of fun parallels for the folks who have seen them both as Urobuchi continues to explore these same tropes and issues in different circumstances and contexts, and this is especially true for the time travel subplot in TBF S3.
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honourablejester · 2 months
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PF2e Character Concept: Angelic Detective
I was browsing deities on Archives of Nethys, and found the Empyreal Lord Zohls (/Verity), who is quite literally the goddess of detectives, among other truth-seeking professions. Investigations that reveal the truths of crimes and horrors are the thing she values most. And, well. I can do that, lady! I will never pass up an opportunity to play a fantasy noir detective! Heh.
I also really love this paragraph on her physical description when she manifests:
“When appearing to her followers, Verity is always practically dressed, usually wearing a tunic and breeches. She wears black and white clothing, as these colors represent the light of truth and the darkness of obscurity and the unknown. She keeps her light-brown hair pulled back in braids. On her back she has large wings made of parchment that never wrinkle, whether furled or unfurled. Followers of Zohls include detectives, scientists, researchers, historians, archivists, librarians, and even conspiracy theorists.”
She wears sturdy, practical clothing, and has paper wings. I love her so much. And I want to steal that whole look. That whole vibe. Sturdy and practical and winged. The whole deal. So.
Name: “Darkdelver. Ida Darkdelver. What seems to be the trouble, ma’am?”
Ancestry: Dwarf
Heritage: Nephilim
Background: Detective
Class: Investigator
Archetype: Cleric
Starting Stats: +3 to Intelligence, +2 to Dexterity and Wisdom, +1 to Constitution, +0 to Charisma and Strength
Sturdy and winged, see. I wanted the Nephilim versatile heritage. Angelic nephilim. We’re going to take the ancestry feat ‘Divine Wings’ later, and they’re going to be papery. And I put it on a dwarf base, because I just love dwarves, and also that fits for ‘sturdy and practical’. For other ancestry feats, I also want the dwarven ‘Defy the Darkness’ to get greater darkvision, because that also feels fitting for a seeker of truth. Dealers choice from there, but I started with Nimble Hooves (‘ankle wings’ version), because we’re a dwarf and slow and a speed boost never hurt anyone. But Halo would also be fitting and funny. A very angelic-looking noir detective.
Because … I love noir fiction, right? And there is a thing in classic noir about L.A. The ‘city of angels’. Zohls as a heavenly detective, it appeals to me so much. An earthly character following in her footsteps. I’m not sure where I’d want her based on Golarion. Absalom is the city of cities, but maybe a darker, shadier city might have more use for an angel-touched detective.
And for class, obviously we’re going Investigator. But I do want to double and triple down on the angelic too, plus I think she’s an actual follower of Zohls, so we’re going to take the Cleric dedication feat at Level 2 as well. I did want it that way around, some cleric spellcasting on a primarily investigator chassis, because the detective part is the base, not the priest. She serves her goddess practically, in the field and on the streets. The edict is to investigate crimes and solve puzzles. She came to Zohls because Zohls is the goddess of detectives, not became a detective to better serve Zohls. Yes, she has angelic heritage, but that wasn’t the why of anything, that was just a happy accident. Ida wants the truth, and pledged her cause to a goddess who shared her goals.
And with the cleric spellcasting … if we take the archetype all the way up to ‘Master Cleric Spellcasting’, we can get up to 8th level spells, if not many of them. And I kind of want to pick some of the more investigative spells on the Divine list. See the Unseen, Augury, Message, Scouting Eye, Sending. Maybe Helpful Steps and Lock. And then, GM allowing, some of the weird niche rare ones, like Fate’s Travels, which if you cast on a corpse gives you a vision of the person’s last 10 minutes of travel, and/or the uncommon Ghostly Tragedy, where you can get local spirits to reenact a recent violent event in the area that you can name, though you take damage for it. Then probably throw in a couple of more traditional cleric spells, like Heal or Angel Form.
I definitely want the 8th level spell, if/when we get there, to be Pinpoint. Again, uncommon, but. So fitting for a detective. You learn a target’s exact location, regardless of plane, and automatically overcoming any lower-level defenses against divination. “I know where you are, you bastard. You’re nicked, sunshine!”
For skills, and this is the other reason to put it all on an investigator chassis, I want to focus on levelling Society (we’re a dwarf, charisma is not going to be our speciality, so society can compensate some), Stealth, Religion, Occultism and Thievery. And, since we’ll be getting wings, Acrobatics. Society and Thievery are to help out our investigative efforts, though we’re going to be careful to avoid contaminating evidence with said thievery. Religion and Occultism … Religion helps with our cleric spellcasting, obviously. But. If we’re going to be a bit angelic. If we’re going to have cleric spellcasting and slightly necromantic investigative options available to us. We could also go full fantasy detective, and throw in some occult detection methods in general. Pick up some feats like Schooled in Secrets to track cults, Read Psychometric Resonance for a bit of psychometry, and Consult the Spirits, both Occultism and Religion versions, for more information-gathering options.
Because Zohls does favour investigations that reveal the truth of crimes and other horrors. So. We can play into that for sure.
So. An angelic dwarven detective, a private eye in a darkened city, who prays to a goddess of truth, determination and investigation. Ida Darkdelver, fantasy gumshoe.
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roscvcins · 8 days
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@senjufound asked : “  fate  is  an  excuse  for  people  who  are  too  stupid  or  too  weak  to  make  their  own  future.  ” Y.ang J.ian to Y.ehua
The Crown Prince of Heaven considers SERIOUSLY. There are depths in his dark eyes that are far older, it seems, than befits his mere fifty thousand years. Y.ehua has had a well-rounded education since his childhood, his understanding of scripture far beyond that which is typical for his peers and beyond pressure from his grandfather, he LIKES learning. Considering such concepts is not foreign to him.
"...Perhaps it can become as such." A soft acquiescence, after a moment. "But it is undeniable that fate EXISTS. It is undeniable that events and people are drawn into the scheme of fate." Or else the ancient gods would not have been born out of the chaos, would not dissipate and return again. "It depends on how you view fate. I believe fate is only that some people will always choose one way when presented with something to make a decision about. And for you..." He pauses again, and begins after a moment of pause, "...Well. Have you defied YOUR fate?"
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