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tmwcs · 1 year ago

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S E 7 E N : L U C I F E R

P A R T 1 N E

WARNINGS: Monsters battling, demons and angels, religious elements, accurate and inaccurate references, fantasy, dark lore, thriller vibes, not proofread (i know i'm terrible) and scary images......

READ THIS!

Okay, so you all remember that post i made recently where i apologized in advance for some images i was altering to display the face Heelel makes in a particular scene? well.....thats in this chapter and ngl....it's going to give you creepy pasta vibes. so please, read at your own risk, it is a good read but if you get scared easily, just dont scroll all the way through at the bottom of this page (it's at the very end) just know, i had to alter a pic to show you guys just how i imagined his face was like in that partcular scene. and yes....it IS in fact a picture of Heeseung....i just altered the contrast and brightness of it. so please, dont be afraid of Heelel...I promise it gets better....just...dont judge him quite yet. lol.

Also, in case the song is still going by the time you read the caption that says "End song here" just cut it off because its a rather long song....but also....its going to kill the mood of the remaining chapter if you keep playing it. its only supposed to play during a special moment.

last but not least....

💙

You know who you are and you know what that means ;) I hope this will make your day. Stay positive and happy! <3

Air crowded by the souls of the lifeless metallic forms that lay in gruesome peace on paved grounds.

It was a pathetic sight for the people to behold of their homeland, such a shame that a scenic nation had to be remembered as such during this turbulent time where humans, angels and demons were all engulfed in war, battling over the survival of man, the pride of angels, and the love of demons.

The battle had been ferocious, each Hellish Prince displayed their thunderous roar into the open atmosphere, yet despite slaying many, there were much more that descended, to replenish those that lay as bits of shrapnel.

They plundered down, and lined themselves to guard their enormous leader, the guide of angels, who rises above all things man made, the archangel Jol. Glaring with a hatred persona in his eye, his attention is distracted by the fearsome contender that matches….maybe even outweighs his ferocity.

The blue sky that beheld what could only be described as an illuminating palace for the Heavens, was now stained fierce red, in mourning for the lives lost of those who had been selected without reason…dying in the name of one man’s corruption.

The scent of death ascending and piercing the blissful appearance of the clear sky, it reeked of metal and city air. In smothered bits and pieces, the angels that sought out your tortured screams and torn flesh, have lost a great deal at the hands of the princely brethren from Hell. Yet you feared that the end was nowhere near at the sight of the opposing end, the angels, increasing by high numbers as they migrate down from the sky.

Alas, such was the deceitful decree of men with corrupt hearts and lustful eyes. The very thesis of evil and sin in the form of mortal flesh, claiming to be of holy virtue and a civil servant of Gods name.

Pointing and issuing the blasphemous words to the skull headed princes before you, one man, Senator Forras, condemns them to forever reside in Hell and to never return to Gods holy land.

Little does he know, that the land we humans had set our mark on, the very grounded paths we trailed and the oceans we sailed, all blessed with the kiss of the Suns rays, was created by the one he displays hostility towards. The one whose name is forever shamed in the scriptures of the Holy Bible, and tainted with persona of cruel evil and fearful sin….Lucifer.

“He created the Sun…right after God created the moon, along with this world. It was his gift to God…”

Nikis retelling echoes in your head. He told you of the wondrous creations that took place years beyond the human mind could ever measure, it remained just as shocking as it had been when you first learned of it….that the vital sources of human life were created by both, God…and the Devil.

Watching from afar, your eyes fully adjust into the wide-open stratosphere, where the Devil’s colossal form reaches past the clouds, glowering a beaming red stare at his opponent who stood nearly of equal stature. Both giants readied themselves.

Perhaps you were thinking too much into it, yet you wondered if Heeseung made the first move in order to propel the towering archangel backwards and away from your location as you remained chained on stage at the city’s center.

Colliding back into the open waters of the sea, the massive limbs, wings, and almighty roars of the two beasts can be seen and heard as their staggering forms wrestle in the saltwater, completely away from all human forms that hid themselves on land.

Witnessing the greatness of their power, the beastly entities unleash a spectacular display of combat, though it lacked the decency of sportsmanship as the archangel, reacting to the upper hand the Devil gained, Jol calls out to his posse of followers, hence turning the tables.

They respond to his cry and suspend their bodies into the air, spearing through the clouds as their lustrous bodies glistened by the last bit of sunlight that remained as dawn approaches.

They format an air-raid as they aim their direction of flight to Heeseung. Harpooning through the air with high velocity, you watched at how each Angel morphs into that of a sharpened spear. Taking aim, they dive into him, penetrating through regions of flesh as they pierce through him one by one.

Despite gaining the attacks from the thousands of metallic forms that targets him, he stands fearless and makes his power be known through his roar. The vibration and terrifying power of his clamor shakes the life out of the metallic angels that had reached close proximity.

Yet the almighty howl of the Devil was not enough, as the angels relentlessly come in, swooping by in a recycling effect as they take turn in diving in.

The moment you heard the stinging screech of the angels from above, you knew that they had ascended to aid their dark ruler.

The six princes, all gather around their elder brother and master, raging fury and destruction to the offensive line as they kept coming in, only to fly directly to their deaths as Sunoo destroyed their hearts from within, or when Jays insects multiplied and took out an entire formation.

Between their individual powers, along with the enhanced capabilities of their demonic forms, each brother became invincible as they successfully defended their King from further damage. Compared to the angels, whose numbers have reached up to thousands, there were only 6 brothers to fend off the tackling creatures as Heeseung remains squared to Jol.

Regardless of the ratio, the fight remained unfair as each Prince took on multiple heads at a time, sealing the fate of angels by rows, groups, or any measure of high numbers as they all seemed to have diminished within minutes, leaving only the two behemoths standing, ready to establish the victor.

Narrowing his red eyes, Heeseung’s form, which displayed a great humanoid structure that adorned the head of the Cervidae species, crowned with the magnificent flaunt of tall antler-horns. His wings reflect the colors of his tainted soul, dreaded in black with a tinge of purple and dark blood hues of red. A total difference from the ash-gray scheme that the others had, but not just the angels. The faithful younger brothers had also adorned the same colored wings that issued them the gift of flight.

You watched as Jol takes in a panicked stance, preparing to lunge towards his opponent, against the waves of the ocean bottom they stood on.

With a loud screech as he formulated saws with his own hands, he equips himself with a series of weapons, bearing his arms with anything and everything the human mind could think of.

‘I told you before….to leave them be…yet you ignored my warning…disregarded my decree. Furthermore…...you took it too far….you crossed the line…you came down from his kingdom, behind his back….to kill her….all for the sake of your stupid pride….you should have heeded my demand…and not mettle with humans…she may be mortal…but I promise you…she is nothing like the rest of them….she’s mine.’

Without a roar or an inch of movement, the Devil stands glorified in his demonic form as he waits, welcoming the fellow archangel to present his best shot.

‘Come on…go ahead. I’m waiting….you’re not going to get out if this….because of what you came for…because of what you had intended to do….because……of what you imagined on doing….to her…’

With a fearsome leap, Jol, in his mighty form plunges forward, presenting every blade, aiming it at Heeseung.

"One chance...you've got one shot...so make it count. Equip yourself and bear your arms with whatever you need...if you want to live.....then you better make it count...otherwise.....I WILL BURN YOU."

Wings spread, mouth open, screeching out a fierce cry as he aims to bring down the master of Hell, for a moment in time, it had appeared that Jol was on his way to victory as Heeseung merely stood, bearing his teeth as he narrowed his gleaming eyes.

Inches away from colliding, Heeseung shoots a hand and catches Jol by his neck in mid flight.

'One chance.....that's all you get....and you just lost it.'

With his free hand, Heeseung extends his fingers. Bringing Jol down into a kneel, cowering his stance before him, everyone, to include the cult regulators and Forras, all watched as Heeseung's extended fingers shoots inside Jol's mouth. With a firm grasp, he takes his other hand, and commences the same movement, prying the archangel's mouth wide open.

The corners of his mouth rip, the tearing of skin exposes bright red flesh as Jol screeches out in agony and struggles to escape the Devil's grip. Once Heeseung had the archangel right here he wanted, he heaves in a deep breath.

His snout extends upwards as he opens his mouth. A loud and fearsome growl emerges as a ball of light could be seen deep within his oral cavity. Shifting his head to the side, he roars. HIs eyes glare down at the pitied angel before him, and with swift motion, Heeseung leans in and expels an exhale of ravaging flames from his mouth, and directly into Jol's.

Swaying his face faintly from left to right, he unleashes the fire's of Hell, coating Jol's innards entirely as the archangel's body begins to burn from the inside.

His skin burns with embers as the flames makes it's way outwards, his limbs and torso, burnt and melting from the lava induced flames, falls apart, drifting away in pieces within the wide open sea.

All you could hear were the panic screams of the crowds as they all ran outward, desperately trying to leave leave and reach outside city limits to escape the almighty demon that had just disintegrated the arch angel before their own eyes.

The cult regulators and Forras rage in panic as they all followed suit of the general public and began to fight each other for the sake of freedom, every man for himself.

Despite the frenzy they committed to in escaping, no one took notice as the seven brothers all merely stood, fully composed and lacked any displayed notion of offending the population.

While still kneeling and chained, you watched from afar as Heeseung's colossal form remains standing...fully composed and quiet. He shifts his head to gaze over his shoulder, right in your direction. His eyes look directly into your own, once locked on, they narrow down as he maintains eye contact. You froze at the sight of his demonic form sinking into your sight. Your breathing stopped at the ungodly sight of his mystical structure.

After a moment or two of shared visual contact, he breaks it by turning his head and releasing one last roar into the night sky, an almighty and fierce tone, you were convinced that every star in the sky shifted from its horrendous velocity.

With his fearsome cry, his body morphs back into the swarm of bats that fly outward and trail the sky towards the great unknown as they disappear off into the horizon.

One week before man was created by God.....

............

Breaching the alter, the three Muses arrive as beckoned.

"Master Elder, you have arrived." The voice of an elder woman gently greets the three visitors.

Bowing in respect, the Master Elder pays his tribute as acknowledges the greeting.

"Calliope, please forgive us for our delay. We came as swiftly as we could."

"Raise your head Master Elder, there is nothing to forgive." the woman, Calliope, a former muse who retired her duties long ago, in order to serve God fully, by aiding his quest to create people. Passing her will to the current Master Elder, Calliope taught the current leader of the group the specialty of expelling embodied knowledge, truth, and invention.

"Pray tell me, Calliope, why is it that we were summoned to the alter? I thought it was forbidden to breach near it." the Master Elder inquires as he gazes upon the magnificent height of the stone pillars surrounding the alter.

"Our Lord has bestowed a unique request. We are to travel through the advancement of time and bear witness to the birth."

"Birth?....the birth of whom?"

...........

"Of a mortal child."

.............................

"It's time.....y/n...."

Shifting your gaze over to the side, you saw Jungwon standing before you, back in the human form that you were familiar with.

Kneeling down beside you, he effortlessly does away with your restraints. Heeseung was nowhere in sight after his victory in defeating Jol, yet your heartbeat felt as if it was in a standstill.

"I will take you to him." Jungwon's voice remained calm and tranquil as ever.

Trembling, you began to sob faintly.

Lifting your head back up, he presents you his hand to help you stand.

"......will...will there be pain?" you asked nervously. For reasons unknown, you felt more frightened than you had when you were facing death at the hands of the angels. It didn't make sense, yet you couldn't ignore the contrasts in your emotions as you compared the moments together.

His eyes faintly drop to your chest, right where your heart was located, before they shift back up to meet yours directly. Without issuing a verbal response, he simply nods in a faint notion.

Your breath hitches. Facing the direction of where the swarm of bats flew to, you turn back to look at him. With glossy eyes and the tears breaching breakage from your ducts, you trembled out a small request.

"Is....is it too late to pray?....." you asked in a stuttered pitch.

With a soft expression on his face, he shakes his head.

"It's never too late to do that...." a faint smile graces his face as he gently moves a piece of your hair away from your face.

Seeing you display a saddened smile, you shift your posture as you struggled to contain your tears and remain composed.

"Would you like for me to pray with you?" he asks.

You nod in earnest as you chuck back the tears that breached their release.

Taking both your hands, he presses his forehead against yours. With your eyes closed, his calm and gentle voice admits a prayer for the sovereignty of the nation, the peace of the people, and mercy on your soul.

"Oh thee faithful Lord of thy soul....I beseech you to bestow your desired mercy onto your creation...."

Your heart beats slowly. Taking a deep breath, you steadily release it as you relish the feeling of Jungwon's skin touching yours.

"Hail to Sun and Moon, bless the people with the prosperity of love and tenderness, as you intended for them."

Taking in another deep breath, you felt the drop of a single tear trailing down your cheek.

"Have mercy on thy soul...have mercy on the sacrifice this child is destined to accept. Have mercy on her willingness to serve the people...the world.....the goodliest of creations that your holy spirit.....and the great Devil...Lucifer.....have gifted. In your name...."

Gulping down a breath deep into your throat, you braced yourself at the final word of his prayer.

".....Amen."

Opening your eyes, your vision was met with the vast openness of unfamiliar land...Jungwon was nowhere to be found.

Standing alone in a field of soft baby's breath, you gazed into the blackened horizon, where a full display of stars and planetary moons paint the night sky.

"Calliope....forgive me...but if what you're saying is....." the Master Elder's voice trails off as he looks with disbelief at his former mentor.

'She couldn't have possibly just said.....that's....what would happen if.....'

With a faint smile of reassurance, Calliope nods.

"Cal, I do not question the Lord's will....however, this seems unethical. Lucifer wants nothing more than to destroy our master....he yearns to darken his light and forever break his spirit....how...how can we possibly stand by and let this happen? Lucifer will only kill the mortal child off and will still yearn for more bloodshed...he has vowed to kill off humanity and wages a grudging war against God with ever intent in causing his demise...I dont see how....how...."

"You need not worry about that now Master Elder....come with me, bring your disciples. I will show you his ultimate will...." Calliope softly issues as she extends a hand to the Master Elder.

Breaching the alter, the submit prayer as the orb of light captures their forms and transfer their bodies through time, nearly seven thousand years into the future.

"Master Elder....open your eyes, we are here." Calliope gently coaxes the elder as his eyes remained winced shut.

"Where are we exactly?"

"We have arrived in what was once the Ancient lands of Euterpe, it has since inherited a different name, and has been expanded by its inhabitants....'people'."

Studying their surroundings, the Master Elder and his disciples witness at first hand in the future, what people are.

"They look similar to us.....yet they are mortal?"

Calliope nods. "Come with me."

Leading the three muses afar to an old abandon building. Making way up the steel ladder wells, the small group fix themselves on the rooftop, overlooking the vast majority of manmade features and the nearby sea. The night sky coats over the city with a cozy shadow of sleeping comfort as it lays to rest.

"How strange...they look so much like us and yet...they require special necessities in order to thrive." The Master Elder notes.

"They do...and yet they are far greater than any of us...." Calliope issues back as she takes out from the hidden pockets of her robe, a small vial and a locket.

"Is that....?" the Master Elder gasps.

"It is...."

Hearing her response, the Master Elder winces his eyes shut in bewilderment as he absorbs the gravity of what was about to transpire.

'.....my God.......'

With closed eyes, Calliope submits a small smile as she regains her sight and turns to look at the Master Elder and the two younger muses.

"Its time...."

"Calliope.....is he sure about this? We are talking about creating a mortal for the mere purpose of......"

He pauses as his breath loses momentum, '.........sacrificing to the Devil...."

With a faint nod, Calliope displays an expression of trust and fidelity.

"We must trust in his will.....do you accept and will you bear witness to the birth?" She asks, presenting an ultimatum towards her peer.

Hesitant, the Master Elder succumbs to the trust of his master, and nods.

"Very well.....then we are ready...." Calliope softly speaks as she gazes up at the dark sky, taking aim at every star as they glisten.

"The Holy Grail 'neath ancient Roslin waits.....

The blade and chalice guarding o'er Her gates.

Adorned by masters' loving art, She lies,

She rests at last beneath the starry skies." - Robert Langdon, The Da Vinci Code.

'".....Half my heart....half my light...my spirit...my flesh and my colors to make you whole....let the pieces of thy essence create something extraordinary....oh child of mine....made out of thy own soul.....become something unruly.....save thy people....save thy soul eternally....'

Descending from the Heavens above, a single orb of light streams downward, making its way before the faithful servants of his authority.

It gracefully takes its station. Centered between the four figures, a tender voice is faintly heard emerging from its body, nearly a whisper....it was both mature and childlike, coming in incoherent and unreadable. Staring in awe at the sight before them, their hearts flutter as they witness something....incredible.

"Calliope......is.....is that?....."

"It is......."

"Take the mold of my holy divinity.....become my mortal descendent."

As their eyes adjust the illuminating orb, they witness in near disbelief.

"Behold....the flesh, the holy light, the essence of our master himself.....just a piece, yet ever as divine as the rest of him." Calliope calmly issues as she gracefully smiles.

'This........this is God's own flesh.......the first to have ever been exposed....or shared....'

Removing the cork from the vial, and opening the small locket, Calliope finalizes the process of creativity as she takes the dark strands that remained threaded together, and gently submerges it inside the light, along with the contents of the vial.

".....thats...."

"Yes....when the first archangel was born, we saved the remaining essence that of which he was created from....a small thatch of his hair for safekeeping for our beloved master...who loved his favorite entirely too much. With his own essence, it does not taint our master's light, instead, it becomes one with it. Thus.....it is everything that Lucifer yearns for....it is a part of him....everything that he is.....yet it is also everything he lacks....everything he desires.

Incorporating the souvenired mememtos, the hue of the light's tint changes. The innocent voice remains faint, yet develops a playful nature as it levitates once more.

Witnessing the divinity of his holy form, even if it was just a small piece of him, the muses gasp out in great respect. Tears emerge from their eyes at the glory of their master.

Gripping on to their chests, bewildered by the miracle of witnessing God's flesh, they bow, issuing tears at it's magnificence. Calliope, joining in unison as she bows, whispers to the light before it takes travel.

"Mortal daughter of God....take heed...grow steady....grow strong....you have a task...and though it pains us so...you must commit to your duties to save the rest of his creation. Where each mortal is created in God's image....you....are the only one created out of his own entity. Mortal child of his divine holiness.....your flesh and essence will be key for humanity to thrive....but also.....to teach him forgiveness....to teach him.....love. Bear us, and your father no ill will.....for even though the one who you are gifted to, holds a tainted heart....rest assured, I see it with thy own eyes.....you shall forever be loved and protected."

At the final issue of his decree, the light expands into an exploding force, issuing a massive traveling current that flared throughout the city, disappearing in an instant.

"Master Elder..."

"Yes, Calliope."

"There is one more task....he beckons you and your disciples to commit."

"Pray tell me, for I am his humble servant and will be at his bidding."

"You are to go to Hell.....bring your disciples.....and take Lucifer to the alter. Take him to the destined period of time when the mortal child is at their prime. You are to present our master's gift to him....do you think you can succeed?"

....................

"..........Yes........"

...............................................

"What do you want to name her?"

Rocking the delicate newborn against her bosom, a young mother softly sings to her baby....a daughter.

"Honey, lets name her....y/n. I've always liked that name."

"Y/n?.....how perfect.....I love it."

'.........y/n'

-End song here-

Gazing off into the horizon of the starry sky, your white skirt blows delicately against the gentle current of the wind that guides your hair over your shoulder. The skin of your breasts remain exposed, your lips stained red, and your skin glows under the moonlight. The perfect image of all things ethereal.

.............................

'.......There you are....'

With gentle steps, he walks in your direction. Adorning his black attire, with the lace mask hovering over his eyes, he breathes deeply at the sight of the floral spread that surrounds you.

'...How beautiful.......so pretty.....'

Breaching nearer, you hear the delicate crush of the flowers under the soles of his steps.

Shifting your gaze over your shoulder, you watch as he closes in....standing right in front of you.

Noticing the glistening shine in your eyes, he softly smiles. "Why are you crying?"

Faintly shaking your head, you couldn't develop a response....you didn't know what to say, how to feel, or what to think.

"Shhh.....you don't have to cry...." leaning in, he gently embraces your body against his chest. Gently removing the Azalea crown that adorned your head, he tosses it and nuzzles his face into the strands of your hair....taking in a deep inhale as he softly moans....savoring the moment.

'Finally......I've waited for so long.....'

You tremble at the feeling of his embrace trapping you in.

"Scared?...." he asks.

You didn't issue a response.....instead, you remained with your head low as your forehead is softly pressed against his chest.

"Come here..." he whispers. Raising both your hands, he guides them towards the back of his head, your fingers delicately grazing against the black strands as he intertwines them with the loose ends of the lace fabric that is tied over his face.

"You can take it off....it's okay." he gently whispers. Leaning in, he kisses you passionately, as his hands roam you entire body, ruffling the chiffon fabric of your skirt in the process.

"You....don't know how......dreadful the wait was......" He softly speaks in between each kiss as his tongue coats the inside of your mouth. Your hands remained gently gripping on the ties of his mask. For some reason, you found it hard to pull them apart.

Reaching back up to take hold of your hands, he guides them as he gently, in unison with your own, pulls the fabric in opposite direction, causing it to come undone.

You stared as his face remained calmly aloof....his eyes shut.

Gently opening them, he displays a handsome face...it was devilishly handsome....and much more enticing than any of his brothers. His profile resembled that of the Greek God Apollo, yet his strong and lithe frame was much more lethal and appealing than any sculpture you've witnessed in your life.

Softly smiling at you, his eyes slightly widen as he takes your hands, raising them to his lips, he kisses them with the most tender pecks.

"Seven thousand years....is too long....even for an immortal.....did they tell you I slept for majority of it?"

".....yes....they did....." you assumed he was referring to his brothers as he continued to speak, expressing his agony over the lengthy period of waiting.

"I couldn't stand being awake....I needed to dream...I needed to see you.....you have no idea just how much I've wanted this....this moment....to touch you like this....to kiss you....to hold you.....it's all I ever wanted...." lowering your hands, he regains his grip around your waist once more and pulls you into him as he kisses you deeply.

His moans were stealthy with added depth as he expels the tone into your mouth, you felt the vibration of his groans as he shifts his face to merge deeper into the kiss.

Gently breaking it, his eyes shift down at the ground.

The moment you saw a smirk forming on his lips, you shy'd your face away. You felt entirely too nervous and scared, yet you didn't know why.........until.

'......did....did he just chuckle?.....why did it sound so...'

Raising your head, your eyes widened and your mouth released a shuttered gasp. Wanting to scream, you found yourself frozen with fear as your body couldn't comprehend the view....

........................

"I"m sorry......am I scaring you?.......believe me I'm not trying to....I'm just so happy.....I finally have you...you're finally mine."

..........

Perhaps it was the pitch black sky......it's dark aura stained the environment....creating an eerie atmosphere.

..........

Perhaps it was the glare of the moon above....creating shadows that dispelled a sense of unearthly lore.

..........

or........

Perhaps it was none of those things....perhaps it had nothing to do with the lack of lighting.....or the darkness that surrounds you.....instead....

Maybe...just maybe it was....the way he stared at you....the way he looked hungry.....no...famished.......the way his insidious expression greeted you with a dangerous desire......the way his hands gripped you tightly.....the way he raised his brows and gazed at you with a twisted and sinister love in his eyes.....the way his lips became blood red upon receiving his bite.....out of excitement......

or.........

Perhaps......it was his..........smile.

‘Please God….someone…..anyone……why is he looking at me like that…..what is he going to do to me?'

…………….

Authors note:

Part 2 coming tomorrow! So more to come.....again...i'm so sorry about that picture.....yikes.

Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii; @vampiregirl215; @nshmrarki; @enhypen14; @iamliacamila; @lisaaannna; @nikstrange; @jaehaki; @luv-enhy-skz33; @silcry@honeysjae; @crackedcameraa; @stinkmonkey ; @baekxo07@raishaii @@yangjungwon33@lhspeachie ; @differentchildwombat ; @prettykia ; @kimsseonu ; @stvrryhee ; @en-thralled ; @hoonzdzbl ; @yuppppp ; @jinniespuppy ; @browsehnnie ; @they2luv1naia ; @aetherl0l ; @stvrryhee @yohanabanana @graythecoffeebean @beanglespewpew @jwnghyuns @gogorkkeeieosos @clairecottenheart

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glux2 · 1 year ago

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Musing: Emotional connection

Recently a very close person to me suggested i binge watch "Angel Hare", before that day my only exposure to that project was a fan game that had a very funny punchline in lampooning the "cursed videogame" genre.

So i watched the whole thing and it was great.

This scene right here made me feel more feelings than most of the media i have watched/played/read in like the last 5 years or so.

So it made my mind wonder, like, "hold on, when was the last time i felt this strongly about a piece of entertainment?"

Sure, if you know me, i felt strongly about the ongoing plotline for Noelle on Deltarune, so one would think "2021 when chapter two came out", right? but no, i got very invested but it wasn't it.

The last time i felt so strongly about a piece of media was actually Deltarune's predecesor, Undertale in 2015.

I finished Undertale in tears, i got in a very bad funk when i found out about the genocide ending, it truly made me feel emotions.

So i began to ponder, just what really moves me?

Full disclosure: I don't cry at movies. This is not a "look at me i am a badass who is not beheld by feelings" statement, no, i kinda just dont connect emotionally with movies as easily as other people.

I have talked about this, many times actually, Toy Story 3 did not make me cry, it always bothers me how people at the time were like "if TS3 didn't make you cry, you have no soul" and shit like that, so let me repeat something i have said many times before:

Toy Story 3 was a movie i went to see the day doctors had informed me my mother had entered terminal phase of cancer.

My friends took me to see TS3 when i felt the greatest sadness i have ever felt in my entire life. And im glad TS3 was a pretty funny movie that managed to distract me from what i was going through. TS3 uplifted me when i had a very real reason to cry.

So what im getting at is, i rarely connect emotionally with what conventionally makes people emotionally connected, not that i havent felt strong emotions from movies, but as we'll get to later, it's just not the stuff you would expect, when we get back to movies you'll be thinking, "what the fuck, Toy story 3 did not make you emotional but THIS THING DID?!"

So, if traditional "emotional things" rarely have moved me i began to think to myself, "what are things that have made me feel this strongly?"

I realized it's the damn weirdest things.

I'll try to list things that i can remember making me feel this emotional.

Now i'll be upfront, im not a very cultured person, so you'll notice most of this is...not very high brow.

Also, obviously spoilers for all this stuff im about to talk about.

Before we begin: Honorable mention goes to me finding out i had repressed memories of being traumatized as a kid by being show an animated adaptation of "Pilgrim's progress" by an aunt, which disturbed me greatly towards the end as the main character dies and before it the souls of two people he met are condemned to eternal damnation from making MISTAKES, not sins, not evil, but THE FUCKING MISTAKE of exploring alternate routes before them.

-Yoshi's Island, 1994 When i was a wee one Yoshi was one of my fave videogame characters, so of course i was beyond hype when a game where you play as yoshi came out, the ending is one of the greatest moments in videogame history, the beautiful music, the journey of the stork, and finally the classic Mario fan fare playing as baby mario and baby luigi being held by their parents with the words "Heroes are born", it's such a powerful moment. To this day i still cannot listen to that credits music without tearing up.

Sequel? Retcon?! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT, SHUT UP, THIS IS THE PERFECT ENDING AND NOTHING ELSE HAPPENED AFTER IT!

-The bicentennial man, 1999 The bicentennial man is one of the biggest examples of a movie being fucking mischaracterized in the marketing, this movie is based on Isaac Asimov's short story and later novel, it stars Robin Williams, so all marketing was presenting the movie as Robin Williams comedy movie, IT. IS. NOT. The bicentennial man is a scifi drama about the existential search for meaning and the nature of what truly is to be alive. You get invested on the quest of this robot trying to find humanity for 200 years, and the punchline to this movie is, in his quest for humanity he forgoes the immortality being a machine provides him as he had developed the way to turn himself biological, still artificial but biological, and he dies peacefully on his sleep before he can be told that humanity had declared him, legally, a human being. To me it was such a powerful moment, he found true meaning to his life, became human, yet died before knowing so.

-Courage the cowardly dog, "The Mask", 2002 This is a legendary episode of an already great show that has a lot of very good emotional moments, some may cite episodes like "the giving tree" or "the last star maker", but for me it's this one. For those who have never experienced this episode, it revolves around a cat girl named Kitty who one day shows up at Courage's farm and she's wearing an upsetting mask, she abuses courage because she believes all dogs are bad. The mask serves 2 purposes, one is metaphorical, "her inability to face reality", the second is to hide her identity as she believes she is in danger. The thing is, she is on the run because her lover best friend Bunny is trapped in an abusive relationship with a gangster dog who threatened to kill her if she was seen near Bunny ever again, the episode coats the whole situation with a ton of goofiness, but it's actually very fucking dark: A young lesbian is trapped against her will on an abusive relationship with a toxic, violent man who threatened to kill her girlfriend if she refused to date him. Courage, being a good little dog ventures to save Bunny and have her reunite with Kitty because, despite how bad Kitty was to him, he recognizes that Kitty is a victim and she and Bunny deserve better, leading to Courage letting them escape away together, to live happy and free. I don't think it's just me, but the final image of Kitty and Bunny hugging as the train takes them to freedom felt so powerful to me.

-Twisted Metal Head-on, 2002 This is one of the weirdest things i have ever gotten emotionally invested, but honestly? i love when some shitposting franchise suddenly manages to pull this off, specially given the set up for this whole thing im going to describe starts in an early game as a fucking joke. So to contextualize this, the first two Twisted metal games were helmed by the og creators of the franchise, TM 3, 4 and small brawl were made by different developers when the creators lost the rights, but during the PS2 era when the og developers came back and created TM: Black, and TM: Head-on, Black was a reboot, Head-on was a retcon sequel to TM 2 that eliminated TM3 from the timeline, but not TM 4. Still with me? Okay so TM2 had this character, Krista Sparks, who was the revealed to be the daughter of the main antagonist of the game, Calypso, but hold on? wasn't Calypso's backstory that his family died in a tragic accident which lead him to become evil? So turns out, the FBI retrieved his daughter's corpse, turned it into a robot with a bomb with the intend to make her get close to Calypso and blow him up. The ending ends comically with a message reading "The FBI wishes to thank you for putting an end to Twisted metal". Stil Still with me?!?!?! ok! so Head on! In this game Krista is back, as a ghost, her ending consists on her confronting her dad, who has now brought up so much pain, misery and death to the world, Calypso tries to explain that the nature of his powers mean he has to do this otherwise he cannot use his powers, and his plan was for Krista to win so he could bring her back and her mom to life, but Krista is so horrified with what has happened that she refuses and blurts "I wish the accident that killed me and mom never happened" the intention being impeding Calypso from becoming this evil super natural villian, but as per all endings, it's always a monkey paw affair and Calypso knows it, looking saddened he grants the wish because he has no option, his powers force him to. Briefly Krista has a vision of her childhood with her dad before he became evil as they share a sweet moment playing on a swing set. HARD CUT TO A HOSPITAL, Krista is on a bed in coma, Calypso is there and whispers to her something along the lines of "Sleep tight my dear, may you finally find peace", as Calypso is leaving the hospital you can hear 2 doctors talking, mentioning that Krista had been in coma for more than a decade and apparently Calypso just had found out. Excuse me Twisted Metal, but WHAT THE FUCK? You are a dumb fucking edgy car combat game, how dare you make me feel these things?

-Mother 3, 2006 (translation on 2008) Mother 3 hopefully needs no introduction, or maybe it does, because many people have reduced it to a joke due to how nintendo stubbornly refuses to give us an official release, but also many of you must know this franchise is the spark that ignited the flame of the absolute Juggernaut Undertale would become, as well as many other games influenced by it. The Mother/Earthbound games were known for being quirky and deviating from the standard conventions of the game, notably for the modern day setting and unorthodox choices of how you deal with the villians, they were always billed as emotional, but i feel they did not live up to that...until 3. The general narrative to Mother 3 is about how greed is destroying the world, the main villian corrupting what we see of the world (a paradise little town where everybody is nice) by introducing luxury, money and status....and also stomping everything with his fascist army and cyborg mutants. Mother 3 is a game about how the worst traits of humanity are destroying the world and upsetting nature. Mother 3 is also the story of 2 twin brothers who suffer tragedy after tragedy after tragedy that ultimately pits them one against the other with the fate of the world at stake. Mother 3 punches you almost immediately by killing the mother character (which i might mention you're encouraged to name after your own mother) at the end of the first chapter and how this affects her surviving family. one of the Twins, Claus, is so disturbed that he decides to on on his own to try to kill the monster that took his mom, while the other, Lucas, was too afraid and weak to stop his brother, resulting on Claus dying as well...but the badguys take his corpse and reanimate it into a cold, emotionless cyborg who follow's the big bad's order and is using him to try to cause the end of the world. In the climax of the story Lucas is force to confront Claus, clause is a brain washed cyborg, his master is out of the picture and all he can do is fight, you can't reason with him...and then.... Lucas and Claus begin to hear a voice, a familiar voice, it's their mother, reaching for them from beyond the grave, pleading for them to stop fighting, suddenly Lucas and Claus both have a flash back to when they were babies, overhearing their parents talk about the hopes they have for them, the many things they will be able to achieve together, this makes Clause snap out of his brain washing, removing the helmet that had been hiding his face since he was resurrected, Lucas and him have a moment as they are finally reunited, Claus realizes all the bad things he has done while under control of the bad guy and realizes he must atone for his crimes, he prepares a lightning attack he knows cannot hurt Lucas and cause HIM to die. "Im sorry for all the problems i caused" he says as he is dying on his dad's arm, "I must go to where mom is now", as he passes away he can hear his mother calling for him, "You just be so tired" she says. Now i know it will sound insane for people to hear a videogame of all things can make one so emotional, but damn, just recollecting these scenes for this dumb post has made me start to cry, the emotional punch of this scene is very strong, it demolished me when i played the game back in the day, but now? After my own mother passed away? I have been scared of playing this game again. I mot sure if im emotionally prepare to go though that again, even 10+ years later. That's how powerful this scene was to me.

-Elite Beat Agents, 2007 If you have played this game, you know were im going, for those who dont, EBA is a silly rhythm game about secret agent cheer leaders that are dispatched around the world to help people in need by raising their spirit and allow them to overcome adversity, the game is insanely wacky and have scenarios like helping a ninja car salesman prevent a company from stealing his company's secrets, helping a washed up baseball star fight a lava spitting golem rampaging on an amusement park and traveling back in time to help davinci paint the mona lisa. EBA is also the second game in the Ouendan series, and there is something you need to know about this series: They all include tearjerker levels to contrast with all the goofiness. "A christmas Wish" is a christmas themed level set to Chicago's "You are the inspiration" and the story to this level is positively DEVASTATING: A few months before christmas a business man tells his daughter and wife he has to go on a business trip but he promises he'll be back just in time for christmas, the girl asks him to bring back a "girlfriend" for her teddy bear. The father dies on a plane crash. When the mother breaks the news to the little girl she gets angry, crying to the skies that her dad promised he would be back for christmas. The backdrop of the stage is set the girl and the mom doing things to remember the dad, like looking through a photo album and baking a cake for his birthday, it's very sweet, but...this is EBA, if you're doing poorly you see the "bad" versions of these scenes, and in this one, one is very devastating, the little girl is having a dream where she's chasing the spirit of her dad, if you're doing well she calls for him and for a brief moment the dad stops and starts turning towards her, if you're doing bad the spirit fades away and the girl wakes up in tears. Dear goodness. But of course, if you beat the level you get this sequence of the ghost of the dad showing up on chrismas morning to fullfil his promise, giving the little girl the teddy bear he promised and having the chance to say good bye to his family.

This punches you really fucking hard in the gut. I am incapable of doing this level without ending in tears. For a time i could not even listen to this song without tearing up until, i shit you now, the deadpool movie used it on a comedy scene.

-Punch out!!, 2009 This one is one i know got me because of personal nostalgia, when i was a wee one the og NES punch out was a big part of my childhood, Punch Out!! on the wii was a masterfully crafted tribute to the franchise. To not dwell too much time on this, this game has an interesting quirk, the ending is a downer ending and it's the only ending you can get. After you beat the last opponent there is a sequence where Mac and Doc seemingly are having a disagreement, where Mac seemingly has decided that if he loses 3 times, he'll retire from boxing completely. After this you face randomly opponents from the game, the first time you lose in this mode you lose your champion title, after three loses, it's game over and the story mode becomes locked for that save file. The final cutscene is Doc walking through what seems to be a gallery with boxing memorabilia, and untold number of years later, he is alone, he spots his old bike on this gallery and rings the bell, he looks up and speak to an absent Mac, "Good job son, good job", as he leaves the camera pans to reveal he was looking at a framed photo of him and Mac on one of their training sessions. The music on this sequence is so perfect, and it was aimed at people like me, people who grew up with the franchise, the idea was making it feel like Doc was reminiscing of YOUR time with punch out when you were a kid, and to make you think about how far YOU have come since the first time you played the games in an arcade, or your nes, or snes. It's actually pretty effective and it got me.

-Regular Show, "Trucker Hall of Fame", 2012 What makes this one different from others instances of me making me emotional, it's, much like the "Angel Hare" example at the top, this one is all about WARM HAPPY FEELINGS, so for those who did not watch this episode, let me summarize it for you: One day Muscleman gets word that his dad, who was his personal hero, has passed away, and he's tasked with carrying his final wish, spread his [hat's] ashes in a place called "Trucker hall of fame", you see, Muscleman was lead to believe his dad was a legendary trucker and that earned him his admiration, but during the episode Muscleman finds out he was lied to, his dad was a forklift driver that the truckers belittled, altho feeling cheated for having been lied to he carries on with his father's wishes. Now because this is regular show, when they arrive at the trucker's hall of fame they are immediately attacked by ghost trucker for "desecrating the hall of fame" as they spread the ashes something happens: The ghost of Muscleman's dad manifests himself and saves his son, taking the chance to apologize to his son and having the chance to say his final good bye personally. Despite the inherent silliness of the show's premise, i think this episode really did a good job on expressing that sense of catharsis of making peace with the passing of a love one.

-The Final Girls, 2015 A friend suggested we watched this movie, and much like Twisted metal up there, i absolutely did not expect for this incredibly stupid comedy horror movie to hit me with any sort of emotional connection, and yet... The Final Girls opens with the main character in a car with her mom, who is an struggling C-tier actress whose biggest achievement ever was appearing on a Friday the 13th knock off movie, during this sequence they get in an accident where the mom dies and even after it's been some time since the accident the main character has not properly moved on from the passing of her mom. Her friends and some people at the college she attends are preparing this horror movie festival where the main event is they are going to play the movies from the franchise her mom was on, and they suggest she should come. Then some bullshit happens and they all end up somehow trapped in the world of the movie. A quick rundown of the rules of horror movies is explained to them, the monster cannot be defeated by fighting it, it's only the final girl who can defeat the killer, and unfortunately for them they accidentally killed the character that, in the canon of the movie, is the final girl, so they believe one of them has to become the final girl and end the movie to hopefully get out of it. The problem is, the main character is experimenting shock from interacting with her mom's character, she is not taking well to seeing her mom on the flesh and she dedicates the entire movie to "save her mom", in the climax of the movie the mom character begins to understand that she is a fictional character and the nature of her attachment to the main character, understanding that they cannot be both the final girl and if then main character wants to make it back to the real world she has to learn "To let go", choosing to sacrifice herself so there is only one final girl. It's kinda weird, that of all possible premises, this managed to make a "You need to move on" message that somehow managed to resonate with me, you might have figured out by now a running theme here, but, i was really hard for me to deal with my mother's passing even if it's been years since it happened, so it's kinda funny for me to think these are the places i have found comfort from.

-Undertale, 2015 Okay this is tumblr, i already talked about Undertale on the prologue to, whatever the fuck im doing here, you know what undertale is, you know how effective it is, Undertale is really well designed for you to grow emotionally attached to these characters, so being able to see all these characters you know have grown attached to have their happy ending on the pacifist ending does fill one with a very satisfactory warm happy feeling that can move you to tears. ...Or you can be bummed out by being a little greedy gaming bitch and taking a look at the bad ending. Because you just couldn't help yourself, could you?

-Onward, 2020 This movie did not hit me as hard as the most emotional entries on this, but it still got me, because in the end of the day the main motivation of the characters on this movie is experiencing closure, catharsis over the death of their father, for Ian it's the fact that he died before he was born so he never met him and is driven by this desire to finally see the father who he shares such a connection with on the stories everybody who knew him in life have told him, and then there is Barley, the elder brother, who did know his dad in life, but is tortured by how, as a kid, he did not properly say good bye to him because he was terrified of death and avoided being there for him in his final days. The ending for this movie is very powerful, Ian choosing to sacrifice being able to meet his dad in the flesh, even for a few minutes, in order to give Barley the chance to being able to properly make peace with his dad and properly say good bye to him. Ian doesn't even get to SEE this, he does not get to see his dad even tho it was what he wanted most of all, but he understood bringing closure to Barley was more important than his selfish desire to see his dad, someone he never knew in life.

So what have i learned from whatever the hell this trainwreck of a post is...i guess that what really gets to me, what really moves me, is when a character, maybe not even someone i can realistically relate to, gets to experience closure, catharsis and be in peace with the people who are missing on their life. The majority of these things in here, even the Angel Hare example, relate to a character being able to experience catharsis by being able to properly make pace or otherwise contact someone they lost, or their ability to move on from this world, so to speak, knowing that their affairs and in order and that their loved ones will be okay.

Things can always look dark, the world may be trying to keep you down, maybe losing someone has been specially hard for you, but it's not the end of the world, you are loved and things can get better, it always hurts and we'll never stop missing what we have lost, but the memories of happier times are there to remind us, we can be happy again, and we can move on, use those memories as your motivation, you can lead yourself to a future filled with light.

#rambling #onward #mother 3 #angel hare #twisted metal #punch out #yoshi's island #undertale #deltarune #regular show #courage the cowardly dog #EBA

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nyxshadowhawk · 1 year ago

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I Read The Silmarillion So You Don't Have To, Part Four

Here are the previous parts:

https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/726120109073104896/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/726261927846772736/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/726476229805473792/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

Chapter 7: Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor In which the peace is disturbed by conspiracy theories and shiny objects.

Fëanor decides to preserve the light of the Two Trees of Valinor… you know, in case anything ever happens to them. Somehow, using all of his knowledge and power and craftsmanship, he captures their light and uses it to create THE SILMARILS! The Silmarils are the biggest, brightest, and most beautiful gemstones in the history of Elfkind. No one but Fëanor knows what they’re made of (and at this point in time, he isn’t exactly in a position to tell anyone), but they look like diamonds and are completely unbreakable. Just as the bodies of the Children of Ilúvatar are shells for the soul, the crystal that composes the Silmarils is a shell for the light of the Two Trees — literally, the stones are actually alive. They are like three stars.

Silmarils of Fëanor by Nikulina-Helena

Side note — this isn’t technically in the text of The Silmarillion, it’s from Unfinished Tales, but I have to mention it because it’s hilarious — Fëanor got the idea to preserve the light of the Trees because Galadriel wouldn’t give him her hair. Here’s the relevant part of Unfinished Tales:

Even among the Eldar she was accounted beautiful, and her hair was held a marvel unmatched. It was golden like the hair of her father and of her foremother Indis, but richer and more radiant, for its gold was touched by some memory of the starlike silver of her mother; and the Eldar said that the light of the Two Trees, Laurelin and Telperion, had been snared in her tresses. Many thought that this saying first gave to Fëanor the thought of imprisoning and blending the light of the Trees that later took shape in his hands as the Silmarils. For Fëanor beheld the hair of Galadriel with wonder and delight. He begged three times for a tress, but Galadriel would not give him even one hair. These two kinsfolk, the greatest of the Eldar of Valinor, were unfriends for ever. […] there dwelt in her the noble and generous spirit of the Vanyar, and a reverence for the Valar that she could not forget. From her earliest years she had a marvellous gift of insight into the minds of others, but judged them with mercy and understanding, and she withheld her goodwill from none save only Fëanor. In him she perceived a darkness that she hated and feared, though she did not perceive that the shadow of the same evil had fallen upon the minds of all the Noldor, and upon her own.

So, just to reiterate: Galadriel is wise and benevolent and loves everyone except Fëanor, because Fëanor is just that much of an arrogant asshole. So when Fëanor asks her for her hair, she basically tells him where he can stick it, and he goes, “Well fine! I didn’t need your hair anyway! I’m going to make gems that are even prettier and shinier than your hair, and then everyone will be jealous!” And that is why it’s such a big deal that Galadriel grants Gimli’s much humbler request for her hair. Gimli may be a dwarf, but he’s actually a good person!

Anyway, everyone is impressed by the Silmarils, even the Valar themselves. Varda, the goddess of the stars, blessed them so that nothing evil could touch them.

Now, I already said that Melkor lusted for all the shiny things that the Noldor had dug up, so how do you think he reacted when he saw the Silmarils? Oh, you’d better believe he wanted those gems more than anything else in the world. He concocted an evil plan to sew as much discord between the Elves and the Valar as possible, and to destroy Fëanor in the process. Unfortunately, enough of the Elves start to listen to his rumors. They start to believe that the Valar brought them to Valinor to stop them from ruling kingdoms of their own. Melkor also told the Elves about the eventual coming of Men, which the Elves knew nothing about. Melkor didn’t know much about Men either, but it was enough to spread a conspiracy theory that Manwë was holding the Elves hostage in Valinor so that Men could take over the world, cheating the Elves out of their God-given inheritance. The Noldor start to want to go back East, to be free of the Valar’s influence so they can start building kingdoms of their own and establishing themselves before the Men come.

Fëanor especially is desperate to get out of Valinor, which is exactly what Melkor wanted, because this was all just a ploy to get the Silmarils. But Fëanor is just as obsessive about them, keeping them locked deep in his “horde” (as though he’s a dragon), except when he parades around wearing them during feasts. He doesn’t let anyone see them, except for his father and his sons. He’s already started to forget that the entire point of them was to preserve the light of the Trees of Valinor, and not just to glorify himself.

Fëanor by dakkun39

Melkor starts to zero in on his mark. He spreads a new lie that Fingolfin, Fëanor’s brother, was planning to supplant him as Finwë’s heir. And to Fingolfin, he says that Fëanor has always hated his half-brothers and plans to kick them out of the city of Tirion.

As the unrest brews, Melkor teaches the Noldor how to make weapons. Each family of Noldor believes that only they know about the weapons, and that none of the other families do. Meanwhile, Fëanor makes a secret forge to experiment with crafting weapons, so he and his family can have especially dangerous ones. Even Melkor didn’t know about that, that was all Fëanor. Mahtan, Fëanor’s father-in-law, bitterly regretted having taught him anything about metalwork.

Fëanor openly calls for revolution against the Valar, and escaping back East. That crosses a line. Finwë holds court and asks his lords what he should do. Fingolfin asks him, “Why are you letting Fëanor call all the shots? He’s not King. You’re the King. You tell him to stop!” Fëanor promptly bursts through the doors and struts up to the podium, armed to the teeth. He draws his sword on Fingolfin and tells him to fuck off. Fingolfin hastily bows to Finwë and gets the hell out of there before his own brother murders him on the house floor. Fëanor follows him and starts taunting him. Fingolfin has the good sense not to respond.

By Jenny Dolfen

Now the Valar get involved. They were sad about the Noldor wanting to leave, but whatever Melkor might say, the Valar weren’t about to keep them there against their will. This, though? This is a step too far. They summon Fëanor to stand trial before them. During the trial, it’s finally revealed that Melkor, not Fëanor, is ultimately to blame for all the unrest. Tulkas doesn’t even wait for the trial to be over to go and put Melkor’s lights out. Meanwhile Mandos (the god of death/purgatory) delivers his judgement on Fëanor: “If you’re our ‘thralls,’ then I hate to break this to you, but Manwë is the king of all of Arda, not just Valinor. So… going back East isn’t going to help you very much. Threatening to kill your brother is still a crime whether here or in Middle-earth, so I sentence you to exile from the city of Tirion for twelve years. Go and think about what you did! Then, after your time-out is over, if your family forgives you, we’ll let you back in.”

Fingolfin speaks up to say that he already forgives Fëanor, which is very charitable of him. But Fëanor just sulks and stalks off. Honestly, he’s had it easy — he hasn’t even been asked to leave Valinor, only to leave the city! He leaves with his seven sons and founds his own fortress, Formenos, some distance from Tirion, where he hoards all his gems and weapons and other sparkly things (including the Silmarils). Finwë loves Fëanor so much that he leaves his own city to be with Fëanor, and Fingolfin becomes king of Tirion in his place. So, in the end, Melkor’s lie became a self-fulfilling prophecy: Fingolfin did become King of the Noldor instead of Fëanor, not because of any treachery on his part, but because of Fëanor’s shitty behavior. Nice going, Fëanor.

Melkor lays low for a while, disguised as a cloud. No one hears anything of him for a bit, but the Trees look slightly darker and the shadows slightly more ominous. Suddenly, he turns up on Fëanor’s doorstep and pretends to be friends, using the self-fulfilling prophecy to his advantage to make it sound like everything he’s said so far is true. Melkor offers to help Fëanor leave Valinor. Fëanor still thinks that Melkor is kind of sus, but Melkor gets to him by mentioning the Silmarils, and how they won’t be safe as long as Fëanor stays in Valinor. Unfortunately for Melkor, he showed his hand too soon. Fëanor finally sees that the Silmarils are what Melkor’s really been after this whole time. He screams the equivalent of “Get the fuck out of my house!” and slams the door in the face of what is technically the most powerful being on Arda. Melkor runs off with his tail between his legs, but Finwë recognizes that this isn’t over, and calls for Manwë’s help. Manwë and the other Valar chase Melkor to the edge of Valinor, and everything is suddenly fine for a while… the Trees are bright again, and Melkor is nowhere to be seen, but not knowing where he is might actually be worse. The people of Valinor can feel him lurking on the edge of the horizon.

Fëanor and Silmarils by breath-art

Chapter 8: Of the Darkening of Valinor In which everything goes to hell.

The Valar assume that Melkor returned to his old fortress in the north, but they didn’t find him there. Instead, Melkor shapeshifted and slunk southwards, to a shadowy land called Avathar. He was going to visit… an old friend, shall we say.

If you think Shelob is bad, you haven’t met her mother.

By John Howe

Ungoliant isn’t just a spider, she’s an eldritch abomination that happens to take the form of a spider. Even the Valar don’t really know where she came from, and she managed to escape them by hiding in the south where they weren’t turning their attention. She weaves webs that suck in all the light around them. Melkor takes the form of a tall Dark Lord and tells Ungoliant that he will feed her whatever she wants in exchange for her help in conquering Valinor (although at this point, you should already know that when Melkor promises anything, it’s with his fingers crossed behind his back). Ungoliant agrees, and they decide to attack while the people of Valinor are celebrating a harvest festival. Because whenever anysort of disaster happens, it’s when everyone is unsuspectingly having a party.

Fëanor sulkily attends the festival, only because Manwë literally ordered him to be there, but the other elves of his household (including Finwë) don’t show up. Fëanor also deliberately underdresses for the party; instead of parading around with the Silmarils like he used to, he decided that the Valar didn’t deserve to see them, and kept them locked up in his castle. Fëanor reconciles with his half-brother Fingolfin right in front of Manwë’s throne, and may even have been sincere! The Trees shine with a perfect blend of silver and gold… for the last time.

The poor Elves and the Valar barely have time to react. Melkor leaps on top of the sacred mound and strikes each Tree through with his spear, and Ungoliant drinks up all the sap that gushes out of them like blood, and they quickly wither and die. Then Ungoliant drinks up all the well water, and she looks so huge and bloated that even Melkor is afraid of her.

And… that’s it. Just like that, it’s over. The Trees are dead. The resulting darkness is almost a palpable thing that can attack the body and soul. The Valar and all the Elves gathered in Manwë’s palace are thunderstruck as the lights suddenly go out, and then, they hear the screams of the Teleri, who have had nothing to do with this whole mess and had no idea that there was any unrest in Valinor to begin with. You know what I’m reminded of? That scene in The Prince of Egypt when God kills the firstborn of every Egyptian household, and there’s a shot of Orion, a beat of silence, and then a wail of grief and despair goes up.

Manwë sends the Valar to chase after Melkor, but they can’t penetrate Ungoliant’s cloud of darkness, and it’s too late. The damage was done.

By Titita

Chapter 9: Of the Flight of the Noldor In which the Valar have finally had enough of Fëanor’s bullshit.

Valinor is left in shock. Yavanna tries in vain to heal the Trees, but they are dead, and there’s nothing she can do… unless she had a little of the light of the Trees, which Fëanor fortunately preserved in the Silmarils. Manwë asks Fëanor if he will give Yavanna a Silmaril. Fëanor whines that just as the Trees were Yavanna’s masterpiece, the Silmarils are his masterpiece, and if he breaks any one of them, he’ll be the first of the Elves to die. Mandos mutters that he wouldn’t be the first, since his mother Míriel died, but no one takes his meaning.

Fëanor goes off to sulk, and remembers what Melkor said: that the Valar want the Silmarils, and will do anything to get them. Now they’re asking him to give them one. Fëanor concludes that because Melkor, a Vala, is such a shitty person, then all the other Valar must be the same. He tells the Valar that he will not give them a Silmaril, and that if they try to take one from him by force, then that will prove that they really are just as bad as Melkor.

That’s that, then. Because Fëanor is such a selfish asshole, the Trees are not healed, and there’s nothing left to do but to mourn. Nienna, the goddess of sorrow, stands on top of the mound where the Trees used to be and laments the scarring of Arda, letting her tears wash away the destruction caused by Ungoliant and Melkor.

Then Elves from Formenos, Fëanor’s fortress, arrive to tell the Valar about another of Melkor’s crimes: He broke into Formenos, murdered Finwë, and stole everything that was in Fëanor’s treasure horde. The Silmarils are gone. Fëanor is enraged, firstly because the Silmarils are gone, secondly because he was at Manwë’s stupid party instead of defending his castle, and thirdly because his beloved father is dead. This is when he first calls Melkor by the name Morgoth (which is what he’ll be called for the rest of the Silmarillion).

History might have been different if Fëanor had originally said yes to Yavanna’s request, before learning that Morgoth had stolen the Silmarils. We can’t know.

Meanwhile Morgoth and Ungoliant take the long way back to Middle-earth. Morgoth hopes to eventually escape from Ungoliant, because even he’s afraid of her, but she catches on. She tells Morgoth that she’s still hungry, and she wants to eat all the treasure he stole from Formenos. So Morgoth, begrudgingly, feeds her all of Fëanor’s beautiful gemstones. All but three, that is. The Silmarils literally burn Morgoth’s hand, because Varda made them evil-proof, but he grips them tightly and refuses to give them to her. He’s a lot weaker than he should be because he lent Ungoliant so much of his power, and she weaves a web of darkness to strangle him. Melkor screams so loud that his screaming can still be heard in that region to this day. Deep beneath the ruins of Angband, the Balrogs still lurked, and when they heard their Lord cry for help, they came to save him. Let’s just reiterate that: Ungoliant is so evil that Morgoth, who’s like Sauron but worse, needed Balrogs to save him from her.

By Sheppi-Arthouse

Ungoliant fled, and lurked for some time in a dark valley where she mated with other spider-creatures and ate their heads. No one knows what happened to her after that. She might still be out there, but one legend says that eventually, in her eternal hunger, she ate herself.

Morgoth rebuilds Angband, amasses his armies of Balrogs and Orcs, and gives himself the modest title of “King of the World.” He forges himself an iron crown and sets the three Silmarils in it. But his hands are permanently burned by having held them, and he can never take off the crown. He stews in his hatred, and vents his humiliation at the eight spidery legs of Ungoliant by abusing his minions. Despite how pathetic that near-defeat was, Melkor is still technically a Vala, and is so terrifying in his majesty that no one can even be near him without being consumed by fear.

By NeexSethe

Back in Valinor, everyone is depressed. Then Fëanor shows up and gives a rousing speech to the Noldor, mostly condemning Morgoth, but also repeating all of the lies that Morgoth had spread about the Valar. Fëanor declares himself King of the Noldor since his father is dead (which isn’t anything like what Morgoth just did), and persuades the Noldor that they shouldn’t live under the Valar’s rule anymore. After all, the Valar failed to keep out Morgoth, and they’re related to him so they must be partly to blame for his actions. Fëanor doesn’t want to be anywhere near the distant cousins of the guy who killed his father. Also, look at the greener grass back in Middle-earth where the Noldor can build an empire for themselves! They can become a warlike people, and conquer Middle-earth before the Men come! Fëanor throws some racial supremacy into the mix and says that once the Noldor have waged war on Morgoth and taken back the Silmarils, they alone will be the lords of the last remaining Light.

Then Fëanor and his sons draw their swords and swear an oath that they will hunt to the ends of the earth any creature — Vala, Demon, Elf, or Man — who possesses a Silmaril.

By Jenny Dolfen

Despite having just disavowed the Valar, this oath is still sworn with the gods and their sacred mountain as witnesses, so… old religious habits die hard.

Immediately, unrest erupts among the Noldor. Fingolfin and his son Turgon are horrified, Finarfin (Fëanor’s other brother) tries to calm everything down, and Galadriel (the only woman there) likes the idea of seeing Middle-earth and ruling a realm of her own. Fëanor’s side of the debate eventually wins, and the Noldor depart for Middle-earth. Fëanor hurries them out of there before they have the chance to change their minds.

Of course, the remaining problem is that Fëanor can’t simply declare himself king so easily. Fingolfin has been King of the Noldor ever since Fëanor was exiled from the city, and most of the Noldor are still loyal to him. He’s also level-headed and kind, whereas Fëanor is a hot mess. Fingolfin doesn’t want to leave Valinor, but accepts that he doesn’t have much of a choice, because he doesn’t want to abandon his people. Also, his son Fingon is urging him to go. Finarfin is even less willing to leave, but follows Fingolfin anyway for similar reasons.

By BellaBergolts

As the Noldor are leaving, a messenger arrives from Manwë. He says that the Valar won’t prevent the Noldor from leaving, since the Elves are free to do whatever they want, but that the Valar strongly advise against it. But Fëanor and his family are explicitly exiled from Valinor, on account of their oath. The messenger emphasizes that Fëanor is right — Melkor is a Vala —which is exactly why Fëanor and co. stand no chance against him or against any of the other Valar. So, the oath is impossible to fulfill. That sucks, because oaths are serious business, and once you’ve made an oath, you can’t simply disregard it. Fëanor has basically condemned himself and all of his sons to an impossible, borderline-blasphemous and utterly hubristic venture. Nice going, Fëanor.

Of course, Fëanor gives a typical arrogant response, urging the Noldor not to send their king into exile and “return to bondage.” He says to the messenger, “Go tell Manwë that even if I can’t beat Morgoth, at least I’m gonna try, instead of sitting on my sorry ass and grieving! My battle with Morgoth is gonna be so legendary that one day the Valar will realize I was right!” Fëanor is so intimidating that even the messenger of Manwë bows to him in response. And so, the Noldor leave into exile — some boldly and without looking back, some very reluctantly.

They quickly run into the first big problem: How do they get to Middle-earth? Fëanor first tries to follow Melkor and go north, to cross the narrow strip of land that connects the two continents. But realistically, there’s no way that an entire nation’s worth of people are going to cover that distance. The other option is to cross the sea itself, but the only way to do that is with ships, and the Noldor don’t know how to build them. Fëanor decides to persuade the Teleri to join his company, which would get them the ships they need — and spitefully, Fëanor hopes to further dismantle Valinor and gain himself more soldiers for his war against Morgoth.

The Teleri are sad that their friends are leaving, and completely unwilling to lend them any ships or go against the will of the Valar. Olwë, the King of the Teleri, never heard any of Morgoth’s conspiracy theories, so everything Fëanor says sounds completely insane. You can imagine how well that went over with Fëanor. He’s like, “You owe us because we helped you build your city! You stragglers would still be living in mud huts if it weren’t for us!” Olwë points out that friends don’t let friends make such stupid decisions, that the plan was to live together in Valinor forever, and that the Noldor didn’t teach the Teleri shipbuilding. They learned to build ships on their own, directly from the sea gods, and don’t owe the Noldor anything. The Teleri feel the same way about their ships as Fëanor does about his jewels — they’re unique masterpieces, and can never be replicated.

Fëanor doesn’t take no for an answer, and tries to take the ships by force. The Teleri fight back. What follows is the first large-scale battle between Elves. It’s brutal and sad — there’s deaths on both sides, but the Noldor win and steal the precious ships away. (Don’t ask me how the Noldor know how to sail the ships — sailing isn’t exactly a skill that one can just pick up.) Olwë calls upon Ossë, the Maia of the Waves, but he doesn’t come, because the Valar swore to neither help nor hinder the Noldor’s departure. But Uinen, the Maia of sea life, is so distraught over the cruel deaths of the Teleri mariners that she wrecks several of the ships.

By Ted Nasmith

When the Noldor reach the shore, a dark figure rises up from the cold mountains. Some say the figure was Mandos himself. He pronounces the “Prophecy of the North”: Anyone who’s studied pagan mythology knows that kinslaying is just about the worst thing you can do, so now all the Noldor are exiled, not just Fëanor and his sons. But Fëanor has well and truly brought down the wrath of the Valar upon his head. They’ve given him enough second chances. Now, his oath isn’t just useless — it’s actively a curse that will destroy his family, drive them to evil and treason, and keep the Silmarils forever just out of reach. After they die — and they will die, despite the immortality granted to them by Eru Ilúvatar — their souls will return to the Halls of Mandos as ghosts. The Noldor who don’t die will slowly diminish, and watch their own power fade as the other races gradually supplant them, leaving them with nothing but regret.

Mandos by marcelamedeiros_arts

Don’t let anyone tell you that Tolkien’s Elves are all perfect beings who are prettier, wiser, more magical, and otherwise superior to everyone else. The reason why all the Elves of the LotR fit that description is because only the wise Elves last that long. All the arrogant, hotheaded, and power-hungry Elves don’t make it to the Third Age because they’ve all killed each other by then.

Case in point, Fëanor responds to this imposing figure pronouncing the wrath of the gods with his typical arrogance, insisting that he and his family are not cowards and that treason is just another evil that they’ll have to deal with. And, as an extra “fuck you,” that everyone will sing of their deeds until the end of the world.

At that, Finarfin turns back. He never actually wanted to leave Valinor, he hates that the battle ruined his friendship with Olwë, and he’s deeply resentful towards the House of Fëanor for having caused this whole mess. He and his people receive the Valar’s forgiveness, and return to their beautiful city of Tirion. Finarfin rules over the Noldor that returned with him, but without his children, because they didn’t turn back. They wanted to stay with Fingolfin’s sons, Fingon and Turgon, and they aren’t the sort of people to abandon a task halfway, so they continue on.

Fëanor, Fingolfin, and the other Noldor reach the far north, where the continents of Aman and Middle-earth meet. They’re cold, hungry, and don’t know which way to go next. Some of the Elves are starting to catch on that Fëanor and his propaganda is the cause of all their trouble. Fëanor is already starting to fear treachery, so he takes his sons and all the ships, and straight-up abandons Fingolfin and his people to freeze to death. Fëanor becomes the first Noldor Elf to set foot on Middle-earth.

Maedhros, Fëanor’s eldest son, asks him if he’ll send any ships back for Fingolfin’s people (specifically Fingon). Fëanor laughs at his son, calls his brother and nephews and all their people “worthless baggage,” and then burns the ships. Maedhros just stands aside and lets him do it. (I’m guessing that the inability of Fëanor’s kids to stand up to their father is going to become a recurring source of conflict.) So, the curse has already come into effect.

The Burning of the Ships by Ted Nasmith

In spite of Fëanor, Fingolfin and his company pass through the icy wastes in the farthest north, and eventually reach Middle-earth, though they lost many along the way. The narrator tells us straight-up that few of the deeds of the Noldor will ever surpass that desperate crossing.

We're a quarter of the way through!

Next part: https://nyxshadowhawk.tumblr.com/post/738735962858897408/i-read-the-silmarillion-so-you-dont-have-to-part

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tonurseanopenwound · 27 days ago

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do you have any pinterest boards, wikis, stories, etc) of your ocs i can indulge myself in

throws a tantrum i dont have pinterest boards of them qq im working on them but my pinterest feed rn is all just kdj and alnst .. ill re-add these, more content after it (utc)

stealing some lines from cbtt ! ^^ i do have the whole ass story for them but its currently under revision and i hate the prev version so. just gonna find some parts that are readable... tw suciededdfdsgdf n gore an eensy bit

(chapter 1)

“Ah, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Y-You fucker…!”

"Oh, the audacity! I'm the fucker? Mind you, I was having quite a fine time before you barged in and ruined my night, thank you very much."

“Keel over and die quietly. Don’t make my job difficult.”

“Oh, so I’m skilled enough to put up a fight? Aw, don’t flatter me!”

He laughed again, a hollow sound that sliced through the air, and bore a resemblance to the shattering of glass. “Funny. You’re funny. It makes me want to keep you.”

There’s something about his gaze that wracked a shiver through Elias' body, but not in a “damn, that was attractive”, but more so a “haha. im in danger” kind of way. Being on not exactly the right side of the moral compass himelf, it wasn’t as if he found red flags dealbreakers, but…

“...Excuse me?”

A lamb? The audacity to suggest such a foolish notion .....

As if. If anything, he was a serpent. As soon as his fangs had been embedded into your flesh, you would be plagued, living life blundering, falling at every turn while the venom slowly invaded your blood, ate away at your life force, and stilled a beating heart.

Satan had once taken the form of a serpent.

Nikolai had taken the form of a lamb.

“Huek…!”

Snatching Elias' neck and seizing in his vice-like grip, his fingers grazed the base of the neck, nails digging into the skin and leaving their witness in the form of reddish crescents. His eyes scanned over him, beheld him like a trophy, lifting him off the ground, leaving his legs to flail in the empty air.

(chatper 2)

Footsteps.

A good three hundred meters away, growing only nearer. Pulling the blankets upon two vertically positioned pillows, Elias stood behind the doorway, makeshift weapon raised.

Shit, was this operation still retrievable?

If not… suicide would be the only way to go. No compromises — an assassin must not fall alive into enemy hands. Given that he'd already failed once, if he were to once more-

“Sir Assassin, you sleepyhead! It’s time to wake up already~”

The door swung open, and Elias brought the weapon down, feeling the blunt contact of metal hitting bone thrum through his fingers.

Silence, and then-

“Wow, you almost scared me there!”

Nikolai stood in the doorway, eyeing the dead maid before him. Her corpse had fallen onto the ground, a pool of blood forming beneath her still body, trickling from the wound on her head. Skull fractured, no doubt, with bits of reddish matter leaking out.

“That cool little trick of making your heart beat slow down nearly got me, y’know?” Nikolai clapped his hands together, humming. His beauty was deceptive, the sun’s touch lingering on his features and casting a soft golden glow. “Seriously, you know I could’ve gotten hurt, right?”

A failure.

The taste of blood filled Elias' mouth as he bit down, hard. The flesh yielded beneath his teeth as they sunk deep into the muscle, a flood of coppery warmth spilling into the contents of his mouth. The pain hit him not a moment after, a violent agony that Elias embraced. It was the kind of torture that made one feel alive.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Nikolai grabbed his jaw, tightly enough to crush it. Prying open his mouth with an iron grip, he stared down at him, something swirling in his wide eyes. Not worry, or genuine concern, but more so the kind of expression one would wear when faced with something particularly fascinating. Like observing a caged animal, Elias was shot, captured, and put on display.

“So? Why the fuck am I here, dipshit?”

“Ooh, so close.” Nikolai tutted, wagging his finger. “That’s Your Highness to you. Say it.”

“...Your Highness…” At the words, Elias could sense the atmosphere around him brighten. Leading him back to the bed, Nikolai sat him down with a beam.

“Again!”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

#.⟢ ݁ ˖⌗ :: [ cbtt ] . elias #.⟢ ݁ ˖⌗ :: [ cbtt ] . nikolai #tell me if u want more!! i don't want the post to be two essays and a half ^^

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bubybubsters · 1 year ago

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Left Behind Part 2 (Lucien x reader)

a/n: your wish is my command even if only one or two people wish, it is still my command. Wow 2 posts in one day!

⚠️: few curses

Masterlist part 1 part 3 epilogue

Luciens POV

Luciens words rang through the room before silence fell again. Finally Alex growled and drew a knife. Lucien started at the sight of the blade, he’d gifted that to y/n when they first became a couple.

“I am so such thing. I am y/n’s daughter because my so called ‘father’ never bothered with me.” She snarled and advanced on Lucien. He opened his mouth but no words came out because he knew she was right. He hadn’t bothered with this girl at all. jurian stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Alex to restrain her.

“I- I didnt know you existed, Im so sorry.”

“Sorry dosent cover it, father. You at least could have visited my mom, you two lovebirds were together 37 years after all.” Alex put the knife away and Jurian hesitantly released her. Lucien felt like ducking under the table and yelling I dont exist! Alex started again, “and you broke up with her for a female who has been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you’ve met!” Alex sat down miserably her indifferent mask falling into a mask of anger and longing. longing for a fatherly figure, Lucien realized. this time when Alex spoke her voice was softer, “Mom got a promotion to emissary of the dawn court 5 years ago but she couldnt even enjoy it because you promised her that once she got that promotion, the two of you would go to the winter court together. She hasn’t even looked at another male in that way because she still fucking loves you. You who left her for another, you who never came back, not even to visit. And yet she still harbors the hope that one day you might return her love. She thinks you're worth fighting for.”

The last words were spoken so softly that Lucien had to lean in to hear them. She thinks you’re worth fighting for. She still loves you.

Lucien stood on wobbly feet and rounded the table to pull his daughter into a tight hug. To be the person she fought for and to be the shoulder she cried on.

*****

Y/N’s POV

Y/n couldn’t find Alex anywhere, having just gotten back from a tiring day at work she had searched most everywhere for the kid. God damned 14 year olds. There was only one place left; Jurian and Vassa’s manor. She groaned at the thought of flying there, plus it was dusk, they would have to stay the night. That is, if Alex was even there.

On the flight to the manor, y/n’s thoughts strayed to Lucien. She, Rhys, and Feyre had become good friends during their meetings they had. Rhys had told her Elain still showed no interest in Lucien (something y/n couldnt fathom) and was always giving him the cold shoulder. That made her feel smug.

When she reached the manor, the sun was down and her wings were starting to ache from all the flying today. Alex had better be here, she was going to murder that child. Y/n banged on the door until she heard footsteps on the other side. The door opened and Jurian stood there, when he beheld her he paled. She cracked a smile. “I don’t look that bad do I?”

Jurian smiled slightly thought it didnt reach his eyes. “Nah, Alex is here.” He sighed, pulling her into a hug. “He’s here. He and Alex… talked. I think they’re getting along. Also, why do I have to play chaperone?”

Y/n stiffened at his words but smiled wryly, “because it’s your house.” She brushed past him with a grateful pat on the back as he followed her to the dining room. She was immediately greeted with a hello and hug from Alex. Stepping around Alex, y/n shot her a look that said, you are so getting murdered. Alex had the nerve to smirk.

“Y/n….”

Her eyes went straight to Lucien and she barley held back a gasp. She hadn’t seen him in so long. He was gorgeous.

Y/n and Lucien stared at eachother for what seemed like eternity until Jurian cleared his throat pointedly.

“As much as I love Fae staring contests, Vassa will be here soon so lets prepare some dinner shall we?”

The two broke eye contact and simultaneously glowered at Jurian. Jurian gulped. Alex saved him. “Im hungry so stop staring and be productive.” Jurian shot her a grateful look. Both fae turned their glares to Alex who dragged Jurian into the kitchen.

It was going to be a long night

A/n: Part 3? Ask and you shall be tagged

#acotar #fanfic #Part 2 #daddy lucien #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #bubybubsters #acowar #lucien x you #lucien x reader #Idiot lucien

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arisenreborn · 7 months ago

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@ritens

FAWIGJWA SO YES? and also "pending".

tldr: it's either dragonsplague (red eye) or... he lost an eye and the one he has now is a 'gift' (and curse) from a former Arisen (white eye) or BOTH.

(you dont have to read all of this you've just given me an excuse to ramble thank you)

So OG Rann had a "magitech" eye that basically acted as a repository for any and all knowledge he gained. Which... doesn't quite work in DD. But that's still part of his design! So I kept it.

And then DD2 was like "actually there's this whole thing with Dragonsplague and red eyes" and I'm sitting here with my face in my hands because that'd be such an easy solution to reach for and I love dragonsplague stuff

But I also have "secret lore" that... (bear with me here), this is Rann's third go-around in this world (DD2). It's not exactly a time loop (I think) but there's some distortion of reality/time, and most significantly what he remembers.

First "Cycle" is with Reverie

They get pulled into Bitterblack Isle where they met the Arisen Vincent (important OC also connected to them)

Stuff Happened There: Reverie Kind of Maybe Died? Rann might have Dragonsplagued?

????

Vincent and Rann emerge from Bitterblack Isle for his "second" go

Vincent and Rann uncovered a lot of truths about the world and came close to the Unmoored World, but their goal was to save Reverie (Rann's memories were already messed up from Bitterblack Isle, only Vincent knew this because... that's usually his burden to bear, being the only one to remember :')

BUT TO WRAP THIS UP, the idea I'm fiddling with is: They did find a way to restore Reverie for this third go-around, Vincent became the Dragon, and Rann ended up with either:

lost right eye and was given one of Vincent's eyes that "beheld the truth of the world" (as a nod to his OG eye being a repository of knowledge) and plays into the True Ending or

he had dragonsplague or

both😂

(Also the eye from Vincent might be connected to the Bestowal of Spirit from him somehow idk 🤷‍♀️ This is how Vincent lives on, even if it's not a 'true' bestowal of spirit like we've seen in other versions, granting Rann a will but not necessarily overwriting his individuality. 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️) dragon dies = bestowal activates/finalizes

#crow's lorebook.#it's been kicking in my brain for a while but i haven't entirely decided #but i do know in my hc vincent is the dragon #and they'll never remember the prior adventures they had :')#because that's also par for the course for the three of them #vincent is a character who always rails against 'fate' and 'omnipotent powers'#so him as the dragon in dd2 feels good feels organic and awful and bad and good X'D #he's important though he's so important to them they're a throuple in ogverse #anyway this is messy i'm sorry lmao

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fates-theysband · 2 years ago

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lookin' for shooting stars

why am i writing self ship au fanfic at almost 4 AM when I work tomorrow? why aren't YOU doing that, is a better question.

anyway, wrote a short little thing about that businessman/antique store employee au i mentioned a while back. no warnings other than like. Here There Be Swear Words. i expended all my writing energy writing this so i dont feel like formatting this like a fic post it's just. It's This.

Chapter 1 (<- you are here) // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3

---

The off-sync ticking of a thousand improperly wound novelty clocks engaged in what could only be described as a sonic battle with the speakers of a radio tuned to a vaguely defined “greatest hits” station that seemingly had a genre specialization in ear worms. The casualties of their war? The hearing and mental health of all who beheld it.

At least, that was the way Charlie saw it, trapped as they were behind the register of Quartermaster Mortimer’s Plunder Emporium. They figured that people who didn’t spend eight hours a day in the Emporium probably hadn’t attained the level of boredom that made the clocks deafening. At least the AC kicked on occasionally to provide a bit of variety. And lighten the weight of the hottest summer on record in Cosmopolis City, but at this point that was secondary.

They twisted around to glare at what they could only assume was the only clock in the store set to the correct time–unsurprisingly, a wall clock shaped like a ship’s wheel, with a Jolly Roger flag in the center of the face. “How the hell has it only been five minutes?” they muttered, turning back to face their domain (or, at least, their domain until their boss got back from lunch and let them go back to stocking the latest round of auction finds). Even as bored as they were manning an empty shop, they had to admit the theming was a breath of fresh air from the twee “things once loved” atmosphere of a lot of the other antique shops in town. Mortimer had laid the place out like a display of rare goods brought home from a retired sailor’s daring expeditions, with plenty of maritime decor to sell–heh–the aesthetic. Charlie took most of the yarns they’d overheard the old sea dog telling customers with a grain of salt, but clearly they kept regulars coming and impressed newcomers enough to at least get them to pay the listed price.

Man, what they wouldn’t give for that kind of charisma. They were alright with pleasantries and customer service platitudes, but actually being cool…that took a talent they simply didn’t have. They sighed, resting their chin on one hand and using the other to absentmindedly rifle through the box of different foreign coins. Guess it was all the better that right now the place was dead as hell.

Because apparently the universe has a sense of comedic timing, that was exactly when the bells on the door jingled. Charlie abruptly sat upright on their stool, almost knocking the coin box off the counter but catching it before any coins could spill out. “Ahoyandwelcometo–to–sorry, bleh, words,” they muttered, their customer service smile slipping as they tripped on their scripted greeting, before closing their eyes, taking a breath, reopening their eyes, and saying, “Ahoy, and welcome to Quartermaster Mortimer’s Plunder Emporium! Can I help you find anything?”

Now that they’d successfully struggled through the main thing they ever said to strangers, they finally regarded the person who’d just entered the store.

Oh shit.

He was older–maybe late 40s–and well-dressed, wearing an expensive-looking gray suit with the only pop of color being a bright yellow bow tie. Handsome, too, with coiffed salt-and-pepper hair, a strong jaw, and defined features that the slight wrinkles only seemed to further accentuate. Like the kind of guy that would play a wealthy businessman in a movie. His eyes were covered by a pair of round glasses that caught the light in just the right way to conceal them completely, so Charlie couldn’t tell if he was regarding them with neutrality, confusion, or disdain. Of course he would be the kind of person to walk in right when they had no choice but to directly interact with customers.

The two of them looked awkwardly at each other for what felt like at least a solid minute (although, with the way time felt like it was moving right now, was probably closer to ten seconds) before the man cleared his throat and spoke. “Not at the moment, no. But thank you.” Wow. Talk about your voices made for radio. Smooth, with just enough age to it to keep you listening.

“Alright, well, I’ll be here if you need anything!” Charlie responded, inwardly cringing as the man headed past the display of new arrivals and out of their sight. Great. Awesome. Incredible first impression to make on the hottest guy to ever walk into this godforsaken place. Hopefully he was just ducking in here to get out of the sun for a few minutes and the most they’d have to say to him from this point would be “thank you for visiting!” Or Mortimer would come back before he finished browsing and they could escape into the aisles with a box of baubles to artfully arrange. Or lightning would strike them down. Just literally anything that was not having to make small talk with this guy while ringing up a transaction.

None of that was to be. Of course it wasn’t. For all that time had been moving at a sub-molasses pace this entire time, it was like they’d barely blinked and the Hollywood-handsome businessman was already walking back up to the counter with something in his hand. “Find everything alright?” they asked him, their voice up by almost a solid octave from nervousness.

“Yes, I did,” the man replied, placing a single small porcelain figure on the counter. A little gray tabby cat. He looked…embarrassed didn’t seem like the right word, but Charlie didn’t dare flatter themself by calling his demeanor “shy” or “nervous”. They settled on “awkward”.

“I’m surprised it took this long for somebody to buy this,” they said offhandedly, picking the figure up and glancing at the price sticker on the base. “It’s really cute.”

“Yes, that it is,” the man replied. “It…looks like my own Lady Pawdington.” Charlie could have sworn they saw him smile a bit as he said that.

Fuck offfffff, they thought, punching the cost of the item into the register. You cannot be this hot AND the kind of guy who buys a cute cat statue because it reminds him of his real cat. It’s not fair. Out loud, they said, “Oh, that’s a great name. I love it when people give their pets fancy names, it’s so funny. That’ll be $14.99, by the way.”

“Anything less seemed inappropriate for her,” he replied, pulling a few bills from his wallet and handing them to Charlie.

Charlie snickered a little as they wrapped the figure in tissue paper and placed it in a small paper bag. “Well, I hope your little lady appreciates her doppelganger,” they said, handing him the bag and his change.

“I’m certain she will.” He was definitely smiling a little bit this time as he walked away. Charlie’s head was spinning.

“Well, thank you very much for visiting the Emporium. Come back anytime!” they called after him.

Hopefully the faint “I will” they heard in response wasn’t wishful thinking.

#r: curses #self ship #self shipping #selfship #self ship fic #questionable writing tag

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padawanlost · 4 years ago

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Hi, I dont read alot (of books) but I was just wondering, did Anakin/vader ever see people he helped/freed (during his time as a jedi) being oppressed by the empire. Did he feel pity or sorrow for them? Or had he totally unplugged from those emotions at that point ?

No. Anakin was to broken to feel sorry for anyone but himself. People have this idea of Vader being a sadistic monster who thrived on the suffering he caused but the truth is he was too lethargic to care. He didn’t stay with Palpatine out enjoyment or even loyalty. He stayed because he had nowhere else go, no one else to be with.

You killed her because, finally, when you could have saved her, when you could have gone away with her, when you could have been thinking about her, you were thinking about yourself … It is in this blazing moment that you finally understand the trap of the dark side, the final cruelty of the Sith— Because now your self is all you will ever have. And you rage and scream and reach through the Force to crush the *shadow* who has destroyed you, but you are so far less now than what you were, you are more than half machine, you are like a painter gone blind, a composer gone deaf, you can remember where the power was but the power you can touch is only a memory, and so with all your world-destroying fury it is only droids around you that implode, and equipment, and the table on which you were strapped shatters, and in the end, you cannot touch the shadow. In the end, you do not even want to. In the end, the shadow is all you have left. Because the shadow understands you, the shadow forgives you, the shadow gathers you unto itself— And within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame. This is how it feels to be Anakin Skywalker. Forever … [Matthew Stover. Revenge of the Sith]

What Vader appeared to be - no fucks given BAMF – were very different from what he truly was: Palpatine’s slave. Vader, once you get to know him, is not a scary monster. He’s a quite pathetic and hopeless man.

He wasn’t a sadistic control freak like Palpatine and he didn’t *enjoy* hurting people he didn’t feel deserve to be hurt but he was too damaged and broken to do anything about it. he kind of just went with it.

In one of the comics, he has to face the truth that the Empire is enslaving people and he is upset about it. but he does nothing because there's nothing left in him. for him to pity them, he’d have to empathize with them and that’s something he couldn’t afford to do. He was too trapped in his own private little hell to feel bad for people.

Again the smile or snarl from his Master. “You were a traitor, were you not, Lord Vader?” Vader’s breathing caught on the hook of sudden anger. “What did you say?”

“To the Jedi. To Padmé. To Obi-Wan. To all those you loved.” His Master turned to look at him, his eyes reflecting the flames.

Vader didn’t know the answer his Master wanted to hear, so he simply answered with the truth. “Yes.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

If he couldn’t even care enough to defend himself from his master abusive behavior, I doubt he’d ever care enough to pity a stranger.

When it comes to Vader’s apathetic, one of the best examples I can think of is his ‘relationship’ with Drua. In one of the books, Vader and Palpatine are stranded. They run into a girl and Vader saves her life:

“Come here, girl,” the Emperor said, putting the power of the Force into his command. Unable to resist, the girl walked out of the tree line until she stood, small and vulnerable, before him. With preternatural speed the Emperor drew, ignited, and slashed at the girl with his lightsaber, but Vader had sensed his Master’s intent and moved with greater speed, igniting his own blade and intercepting his Master’s blow before it could land. The girl, under the sway of the Emperor’s power, seemed scarcely to notice the danger. She simply stood there, staring vacantly, her face aglow in the red light of the crossed blades. The Emperor’s mouth twisted in a snarl, and Vader felt his power gathering. Behind Vader, Deez raised his rifle and aimed it at Vader’s back, but Vader stretched his free hand back and unleashed a blast of power that lifted the guardsman from his feet and flung him into the trees. Branches cracked audibly under the impact of Deez’s body. Vader and his Master stared at each other across the sizzling glow of their crossed blades. “Has it come to this?” his Master said. He sounded calm, almost resigned, but not at all surprised. The tone surprised Vader. “Forgive me, Master,” he said, and deactivated his blade. “I think the girl can be of use to us.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

The girl, Drua, takes them to very home and does everything she can to help them. After everything was said and done, Palpatine orders Vader to kill her and everyone in her village. And Vader does it. Not because he wants it. but because he’s too apathetic to care. Too trapped in his toxic relationship with Palpatine to see things for what they really were.

“There’s work for that yet, my friend,” the Emperor said, nodding at the hilt of Vader’s blade.

“Master?”

“The villagers, Lord Vader. Drua and her people. We can’t allow so many witnesses to live. I’ll wait for you here.”

Vader looked from his Master to the dark mouth of the mine inside of which Drua and the rest of the villagers had fled. He felt the Emperor’s eyes on him, the intensity of the gaze, the weight of his expectations, and Vader knew that the day’s events had been only half about depleting a rebel movement before it could grow. They had also, as Vader had suspected, been about testing him, forcing him to face the ghosts of his past and exorcise them forever and fully. He saw that more clearly now; saw, too, that his Master was right to administer the test. It also explained why his Master had shown so little of his true power throughout the day. Perhaps he’d wanted Vader to rely on himself to overcome the challenges they’d faced. Or perhaps he’d wanted to seem weaker than he was, to draw out any treacherous ambitions Vader may have held. “I hear and I obey, Master,” Vader said. He ignited his lightsaber and strode toward the cave, his mind drifting back to another day, a day when he strode into the Jedi Temple filled with nothing but younglings. He’d slaughtered them then, and he would slaughter the Twi’leks now. His Master’s laughter followed him into the cave, and it lingered in his mind, louder even than the screams of the Twi’leks as they began to die by his blade. When it was done, he returned to his Master’s side. “Well done, old friend,” Darth Sidious said. He wiped his hands, as if to clean them of dirt. “And now let’s move on to more important things.” [Paul S. Kemp. Lords of the Sith]

The only time Vader cared enough to influence his behavior was with Luke. All the other times, there were a glimpse of something – of the old Anakin – like when he saw C3PO or even Ahsoka. But not enough for him empathize with people.

Qui-Gon had a interesting theory about this. He believed Anakin – to survive – had to bury that side of him so Vader could exist. An Anakin who cares cannot be Vader. He buried all the good things about Anakin.

“Master, is Darth Vader Anakin?”

“Yes,” Qui-Gon’s voice replied. “Although the Anakin you and I knew is imprisoned by the dark side. […]The core of Anakin that resides in Vader grasps that Tatooine is the source of nearly everything that causes him pain. Vader will never set foot on Tatooine, if only out of fear of reawakening Anakin.” [Ryder Windham. The Life and Legend of Obi-Wan Kenobi]

As terrible as life as Vader is, facing Anakin Skywalker’s decisions and living with them would be much, much harder. That’s why only when Luke demonstrated his unconditional love that Anakin allowed himself to reemerge.

Vader saw his son crying, and knew it must have been at the horror of the face the boy beheld. It intensified, momentarily, Vader’s own sense of anguish—to his crimes, now, he added guilt at the imagined repugnance of his appearance. But then this brought him to mind of the way he used to look—striking, and grand, with a wry tilt to his brow that hinted of invincibility and took in all of life with a wink. Yes, that was how he’d looked once. And this memory brought a wave of other memories with it. Memories of brotherhood, and home. His dear wife. The freedom of deep space. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, his friend … and how that friendship had turned. Turned, he knew not how—but got injected, nonetheless, with some uncaring virulence that festered, until … hold. These were memories he wanted none of, not now. Memories of molten lava, crawling up his back … no. This boy had pulled him from that pit—here, now, with this act. This boy was good. The boy was good, and the boy had come from him—so there must have been good in him, too. He smiled up again at his son, and for the first time, loved him. And for the first time in many long years, loved himself again, as well. [James Kahn. Return of the Jedi]

Vader didn’t hate the world. He hated himself.

And because of that he bury everything that was remotely good and positive about himself as deep as he could. So his behavior, his lack of empathy wasn’t about him being sadistic. He was simply too broken and trapped in a deeply abusive relationship to care for the world around him.

#ask #anon #anakin skywalker #sw meta #darth vader #meta: anakin #txt

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imaginedhaven · 4 years ago

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Rules of Engagement: Epilogue

Link to Masterpost

And so this story ends. Thank you so much to everyone who’s been going through this journey with me. If you’re just checking this out now because you hate incomplete works, I feel you. And welcome.

~*~*~

One Year Later

In a narrow hallway just outside of the throne room, a blood-sworn Prince straightened his jacket. The next few moments would be among the most important in his life, and although he was as prepared as he reasonably could be he couldn’t quite control his nerves.

As he waited, he recalled how his Queen’s orders had led to this moment. He had believed he would find freedom, but he couldn’t have possibly imagined the extent of the freedom he now enjoyed, nor the benefits that he had found alongside his freedom.

A throat cleared before him, and the Prince returned his attention to his surroundings to find his warrior brother awaiting him. “Everyone else is ready,” he reported. “Are you?”

The Prince pondered his answer for a few moments. They had been preparing for this day for months now, though a part of him still hesitated, fully believing he didn’t quite deserve the honor his Queen was to bestow upon him.

Even as he thought the words, he could hear his Queen’s indignant response in his mind. Whether or not you are deserving in this matter is for me to decide, she would tell him, and you proved your worth to me long ago.

Though he could protest, and he might have protested had she actually been present in that moment, he knew the winner of that argument would not be himself. They had already had this conversation several times in the months leading up to this day, after all.

Finally, the Prince nodded to his brother. “I am.”

His brother smiled and turned away, slipping into another room through a side door and leaving the Prince alone with his thoughts once more. He would not be alone for much longer, though, for he knew his brother would be alerting the others even now.

The music in the throne room swelled, and he recognized it as the cue for him to enter. With a deep breath, he opened the door, his awareness of everyone else gathered within the chamber fading as he beheld his Queen on her throne in all her majesty.

She was radiant before him, bright as the fires she commanded, resplendent in a gown of rich green and bright silver. The Prince’s breath caught in his throat at the sight, and the bond between them tugged at his chest.

He couldn’t wait any longer, and so he strode across the room to kneel at her feet, head bowed. Her skirts rustled before him, and as she rose from her throne he raised his head to look at her.

She spoke words in the Old Language, words that reaffirmed the bond that lay between them and would bind him anew to her and the land both. A year previously, he wouldn’t have believed that he would accept additional bonds so readily.

Now, it was all he could possibly want.

And so the Prince responded in kind, hiding a shiver as the weight of the bonds settled around his head and shoulders. His Queen smiled at him and offered a hand to steady him as he rose once more, one he gratefully accepted.

“It’s difficult to believe this is real, isn’t it?” she whispered. “After all this time, after everything we’ve been through… I can still hardly believe it myself.”

“I feel the same way,” the Prince confessed. “And yet here we are.”

The brilliance of his Queen’s smile was enough to melt even his frozen heart. She had done that long ago, of course, yet he still felt an echo of that warmth within his chest at the sight. “There’s only one thing left for you to do.”

His Queen was correct, of course, and yet the Prince hesitated for a moment longer, eyes studying her face.

Her smile turned soft. “Och, you. You’ll have our entire lives to look at me, and I fully expect you to do so regularly, but you have something ever so slightly more important to do now.”

It was the Prince’s turn to smile at his Queen. “Those are words I never thought I’d hear you say.”

“And you’ll never hear them again,” she declared. “Now, go.”

The Prince kissed his Queen’s cheek and led her back to her throne, keeping hold of her hand as she sat. Then he turned to the secondary, smaller throne beside her. Two steps led him directly to it, and he could and did approach without releasing his Queen’s hand.

Slowly, he turned to face the crowds gathered within the chamber and seated himself upon the throne.

And just like that, the Prince became a King.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @rabodocardan- your tag seems to not be working! @courtofjurdan @danibutterr

#haven writes #rules of engagement #rowaelin

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atiny-piratequeen · 3 years ago

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since you dont know many german tales, how about the original story of rapunzel?

There were once a man and a woman who had long in vain wished for a child. At length the woman hoped that God was about to grant her desire. These people had a little window at the back of their house from which a splendid garden could be seen, which was full of the most beautiful flowers and herbs. It was, however, surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared to go into it because it belonged to an enchantress, who had great power and was dreaded by all the world.

One day the woman was standing by this window and looking down into the garden, when she saw a bed which was planted with the most beautiful rampion - Rapunzel, and it looked so fresh and green that she longed for it, and had the greatest desire to eat some. This desire increased every day, and as she knew that she could not get any of it, she quite pined away, and began to look pale and miserable.

Then her husband was alarmed, and asked, "What ails you, dear wife?"

"Ah," she replied, "if I can't eat some of the rampion, which is in the garden behind our house, I shall die."

The man, who loved her, thought, sooner than let your wife die, bring her some of the rampion yourself, let it cost what it will. At twilight, he clambered down over the wall into the garden of the enchantress, hastily clutched a handful of rampion, and took it to his wife. She at once made herself a salad of it, and ate it greedily. It tasted so good to her - so very good, that the next day she longed for it three times as much as before. If he was to have any rest, her husband must once more descend into the garden. In the gloom of evening, therefore, he let himself down again. But when he had clambered down the wall he was terribly afraid, for he saw the enchantress standing before him.

"How can you dare," said she with angry look, "descend into my garden and steal my rampion like a thief? You shall suffer for it."

"Ah," answered he, "let mercy take the place of justice, I only made up my mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the window, and felt such a longing for it that she would have died if she had not got some to eat."

Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be softened, and said to him, "If the case be as you say, I will allow you to take away with you as much rampion as you will, only I make one condition, you must give me the child which your wife will bring into the world. It shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a mother."

The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her.

Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old, the enchantress shut her into a tower, which lay in a forest, and had neither stairs nor door, but quite at the top was a little window. When the enchantress wanted to go in, she placed herself beneath it and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses, wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and then the hair fell twenty ells down, and the enchantress climbed up by it.

After a year or two, it came to pass that the king's son rode through the forest and passed by the tower. Then he heard a song, which was so charming that he stood still and listened. This was Rapunzel, who in her solitude passed her time in letting her sweet voice resound. The king's son wanted to climb up to her, and looked for the door of the tower, but none was to be found. He rode home, but the singing had so deeply touched his heart, that every day he went out into the forest and listened to it. Once when he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw that an enchantress came there, and he heard how she cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Then Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair, and the enchantress climbed up to her. "If that is the ladder by which one mounts, I too will try my fortune," said he, and the next day when it began to grow dark, he went to the tower and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

Immediately the hair fell down and the king's son climbed up. At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man, such as her eyes had never yet beheld, came to her. But the king's son began to talk to her quite like a friend, and told her that his heart had been so stirred that it had let him have no rest, and he had been forced to see her. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and handsome, she thought, he will love me more than old dame gothel does. And she said yes, and laid her hand in his.

She said, "I will willingly go away with you, but I do not know how to get down. Bring with you a skein of silk every time that you come, and I will weave a ladder with it, and when that is ready I will descend, and you will take me on your horse."

They agreed that until that time he should come to her every evening, for the old woman came by day.

The enchantress remarked nothing of this, until once Rapunzel said to her, "Tell me, Dame Gothel, how it happens that you are so much heavier for me to draw up than the young king's son - he is with me in a moment."

"Ah! You wicked child," cried the enchantress. "What do I hear you say. I thought I had separated you from all the world, and yet you have deceived me."

In her anger she clutched Rapunzel's beautiful tresses, wrapped them twice round her left hand, seized a pair of scissors with the right, and snip, snap, they were cut off, and the lovely braids lay on the ground. And she was so pitiless that she took poor Rapunzel into a desert where she had to live in great grief and misery.

On the same day that she cast out Rapunzel, however, the enchantress fastened the braids of hair, which she had cut off, to the hook of the window, and when the king's son came and cried,

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair!"

she let the hair down. The king's son ascended, but instead of finding his dearest Rapunzel, he found the enchantress, who gazed at him with wicked and venomous looks.

"Aha," she cried mockingly, "you would fetch your dearest, but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest. The cat has got it, and will scratch out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is lost to you. You will never see her again."

The king's son was beside himself with pain, and in his despair he leapt down from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell pierced his eyes. Then he wandered quite blind about the forest, ate nothing but roots and berries, and did naught but lament and weep over the loss of his dearest wife.

Thus he roamed about in misery for some years, and at length came to the desert where Rapunzel, with the twins to which she had given birth, a boy and a girl, lived in wretchedness. He heard a voice, and it seemed so familiar to him that he went towards it, and when he approached, Rapunzel knew him and fell on his neck and wept. Two of her tears wetted his eyes and they grew clear again, and he could see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom where he was joyfully received, and they lived for a long time afterwards, happy and contented.

so i have been taught a version that is a little easier on children, where rapunzel was basically safed by her prince and they lived happily ever after. and no birthing twins either. BUT this version has been the one read to children for decades since it was written.

i liked the disney movie, but as usual it glossed over the original everywhere. thats fine tho, it was fiction in the first place and an accurate verion might be more of a thriller, or horror movie... or just a very sad one. it just saddens me sometimes when so much detail is lost. just like malificent wasnt called by her original german name (malefiz) in the german dub of her movie. that irked me greatly.

(also if this is starting to get annoying, tell me!! i just really enjoy revisiting fairytales and telling people about them uwu)

Its not annoying at all. Again, i always appreciate this so much. Plus you're sharing part of your culture, for folklore and fairytales, even those with more wider known adaptations, are still important to people's culture. So even if you tell me a Grimm or something that i do know, i still appreciate it so much.

I know a lot of fairytales have gentler adaptations for the kiddos but ive never seen the traditional one for rapunzel so thank you sm!

#asks #schimmelspore #long post

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escorble-writes · 4 years ago

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🥀Teacups and Lavender 🥀

Part One- The Storm

Lightning flashed and raced across the sky, playing tag with the wind and rain, tender rumbling like a low drum under it.

Through the howling wind were eerie notes of a world long forgotten, riddles with no answer, snatches of songs and laughter echoing through the black clouds.

It was, Lizzie thought to herself from her window, the perfect weather for reading next to the fire. It had been a long while since Lizzie had beheld a storm of this ferocity and she smiled as more lightning crackled from outside. The wind whistled through the gaps in the windowpane, stirring the flames merrily.

Through the lashing rain Lizzie Craven, Elizabeth to anyone who didnt know her better, could see the distant sparks of light from the new town nestled snugly in the trees, along with the Manor House her family was attending dinner at.

Lizzie had faked illness to get out of it. She didnt much care for her sisters fiance, Lord William Belfate, or the general stuffiness of a formal meal. Juliet, Mother, Father, they could keep the lot of it. Lizzie would stay in this folly of a castle, a good book in her hand and a little pot of mulled wine next to her..

She saw something pale dart out of the corner of her eye and snatch one of the little teacakes from her tray before darting back into the shadows of the library. Lizzie smiled.

She had worried that the intensity of the storm would scare the creatures that occupied the library with her, but the teacakes were too tempting to hide from.

That was something Lizzie loved about the move to Avlonn two years previously. It was well worth the tumultuous two hour voyage to get here, along with the three day carrige ride, just to see the creatures she’d only ever read about.

The Fey.

The little imp who had taken her teacake had moved next to the fire, hiding in the shadows behing the coal scuttle. Lizzie watched as tenatively a long stick was extended towards the fire, the cake skewered at one end. She quietly poured some mulled wine into a teacup and set it on a saucer at the far end of the table, in case the imp wanted something to go with its cake.

At first Lizzie hadnt been sure of what she was seeing. Was that really an insect in the trees? She was certain it had pojked its tongue out at her, certain that those six limbs were humanoid, not buglike. Then there were the people who wandered the market under thick hoods, muttering odd snatches of verse under their breath, eyes glinting in all the colours of the world.

Lizzie’s thoughts drifted as she watched the cake rotate in front of the fire, dozens of strange looking figures walking through the forest in her mind. What she wouldnt give to really talk with someone from the other world.

More lightning forked the sky and with it came a scream. Lizzie clamped her hands over her ears as the window next to her cracked, unable to cope with the pericing double-toned howl that surged through the air like lightning itself, careening and whirling on the winds back. Lizzie whimpered. whatever it was that was making that noise, she could feel it, inside her head like a hot needle.

Then silence.

Lizzy was dizzy. The silence rang in her ears and she closed her eyes to try make it stop.

‘That hurt.’ She heard the imp mutter mutionously ‘Silly sky-sailor should be sneaksier.’

‘W-what do you mean?’ Lizzie blurted out.

The imp peered over at Lizzie from the coal scuttle with its odd yellow eyes. It rubbed its long ear irritably.

‘First time you speak to me.’ It said quietly ‘And it is to ask of another.’

Lizzie’s heart sank at the look of hurt in the poor imp’s eyes. She hadn’t realised it wanted to be friends.

‘My apologies. What’s your name?’

‘Can call me Spinks. Will call you Lizzie.’

Lizzie nodded, ignoring the pool of fear that was settling in her belly. She had three middle names that no-one said. Surely that would be enough to keep her out of thrall.

‘Would you like some mulled wine Spinks?’

Spinks tilted their round face at Lizzie, a smile too wide for their face stretching to either pointed ear.

‘Maybe later. But I answer now. It was a sky-sailor, they got hurt. Spinks see them fall down, down, and they must have hit the ground.’

The room felt colder at the description and Lizzie shuddered. Hesitantly she stood up, noting the look of amusement in Spinks’ eyes.

‘Should we go help? No-one should be out in weather like this.’

Spinks opened their mouth to speak, but before they could the door to the library was frantically knocked upon and opened before an answer was received.

‘Mistress Craven!’ panted the panicked scullery maid, Mary, ‘Theres a visitor at the door, asking for aid! Would you come and see him?’

Lizzie was at the door in a heartbeat.

‘I’ll be back in a minute, Spinks, I’ll bring you something tasty.’

She saw Spinks scuttle towards the mulled wine as she left the library.

Craven Castle was as dark as it was drafty, despite the tapestries that festooned the walls and tallow candles sputtering in their holders.

‘Who was that in there?’ Mary asked as the two women rushed down the spiral staircase, skirts hitched up to as not to trip.

‘A friend. Who’s at the door? What do they need help with?’

Mary’s face was flushed a deep red, bold against her pale hair.

‘I dont know, he wouldnt give a name, but he looms like one of the um...’ her red hue deepened ‘...fair folk.’

Lizzie froze and took a deep breath. that scream earlier...

‘Lets hurry.’

The sprint to the kitchen seemed to take no time at all, portraits speeding by as Lizzies heart pounded in her ears. Silently, she cursed her father for all the stairs and stopped to catch her breath and compose herself.

‘Come on mistress.’ Mary said as she swung the door open ‘He’s by the fire.’

She pushed open the polished oak door and Lizzie stepped into the narrow little kitchen, immidiately noticing the shaking figure huddled up by the fire.

He was tall, even sitting, and it seemed to Lizzie as though his wet black hair shone blue, like that of a raven. Two pointed ears stuck out from beneath, peirced with a series of rings and studs. The scent of him filled the room, like ozone and sharp pine.

It was entrancing.

Slowly he turned around and even through the shadows Lizzie could see his eyes were a strange bright green, like that of a lime. He looked confused, scared almost, but had set his jaw in a determined jut.

‘You must be the lady of the house.’

It took a second for Lizzie to find her voice. When the fey next to the fire spoke he had flared his wings, and more of his delicious scent had rolled off him. and his voice... she could listen to it all day.

‘Y-Yes. You can call me...’ She looked around desperately, settling on a bundle of lavender drying out by the window. ‘Lavender. Yes, Lavender. What may I call you?’

He shot her a shy smile and pointed to the teacup still clutched in her hand.

‘Call me Teacup. May I rest here the night?’ The smile fell from his face ‘I... I got hit out in the storm.’

Slowly he extended his wing and Lizzie gasped. An arrow had peiced through the membrane that stretched batlike across the bones of his deep brown wing. The area around the arrow was stained a strange purply red from blood.

#elizabeth craven #caradoc woodachre #fae #fae boyfriend #original character #original work #writeblr #writing #sort of a prequel #sorry it took so long #romance

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fandomsonrequests · 4 years ago

Text

𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓..? [𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 5]

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: prince! park seonghwa

reader: fem! knight

word count: 2.2k+

summary: It was time for another Selection. No- not a Selection for a bride but rather a well-trained knight to keep Prince Seonghwa safe after a failed assassination attempt. You, a blacksmith’s daughter, manage to make it to the elite group of knights worthy and skilled enough to protect the crown prince after months and months of training. This alone catches Seonghwa’s eyes- in more ways than one

a/n: part 5 here we go! i’m sorry if its taking too long, school started so i dont have much time to write as often ;^; this is kind of unedited (im using grammarly sue me sujsk) so im sorry for any errors!

taglist: @iwanttohitmyself @barcelona-sergei @minihongjoong @i-purrple-u

↞previous ♛ next↠

The Capitol was certainly different from the quaint town of Trelark.

The Capitol was… colorful to put it simply. Several people milled about the streets, bustling around and going about their daily lives. What the city folk wore was flashier and livelier than the dull brown or grey tones of the clothes the townsfolk wore. It sparked some sort of insecurity within you, making you clutch at the fabric of your pants as you look out the carriage window, seeing young women your age float through the streets in bright yellow skirts or green pleated dresses.

The streets were wider and tiled with smooth stones compared to the rocky ground that rocked the carriages up in the village of Trelark. The shops were bigger and the smell- the smell of the place was better for some reason. Delicious aromas of freshly baked bread or roasted pig wafted through the air instead of some goat or horse dung. It made your stomach rumble. You had eaten your packed lunch and shared it with your friends in the carriage that brought you over to the Capitol.

Speaking of which-

“Oh my gods, look at that dress,” Siyeon says as she presses herself against the carriage window and points to a dress in the display window of a seamstress’s shop. It had a sweetheart neckline with bell sleeves in an elegant shade of red, a transparent lace on the hem. Despite how simple it looked, you only wondered how expensive it was.

“I’d give anything to wear that.” She continues and releases a small whine as she slumps back into her seat. “I wish this Selection was for a princess instead of a knight.”

Raviv, who was beside you, laughed at the young woman across you. “Maybe next time. You never know.” He says as he picks at the loose threads of his shirt again. “You can just drop out y’know?”

“And miss out living in the palace and bring shame to my family at the same time? Uh, no thanks. I’ll do my best until I give out.”

You roll your eyes and huff in amusement at the two as they continue to banter. You loved the two a lot- you really did. Siyeon was like the sister you never had and Raviv had a special place in your heart. But you on the other hand were firm in your resolve and promised to yourself that you’d try to outdo them without having to step on them.

You saw more of the city as the carriages pulled through the cobbled streets of the Capitol. Sure it had its fair share of beauty but not every place was perfect. You caught a glimpse of some street kids, covered in dirt from head to toe, in the alleyways between houses and shops. Some of them would be begging for some alms while others just went about and played.

Suppose it couldn’t be helped- the world was cruel like that. But it still breaks your heart every time. You didn’t have much yourself but you were happy and had a roof over your head. Maybe life for the unfortunate was a lot tougher here in the Capitol.

Eventually, the carriages that came from the village of Trelark finally reached the lavish gates of the castle. There was a drawbridge, just like you imagined, but what you didn’t anticipate was the lavish gate that lay behind it.

As soon as the drawbridge lowered, a rather beautiful gate greeted your eyes. There were pillars made of stone and marble running down the sides while gold figurines of horses decorated the top. Black iron bars with gold-tipped ends that pointed up into the sky lined the space between each pillar.

But the gate was nothing compared to the palace itself.

The three of you all looked out the window, eyes gleaming and mouth agape as you gawked at the sight that beheld you. The palace was surprisingly similar to the ones described in the books- pearly and white, tall with several towers striking out from each side, buttresses that supported the building, and a large flag bearing the current family’s crews right on top of the centermost tower. The palace was huge. You couldn’t even see where the walls ended on each side.

“You know,” Raviv starts out softly. “If we were ever supposed to go through this place, I think we’d get lost.”

“No kidding,” Siyeon says, just as quiet like him. “I think I’d be starving and thirsty the minute I find my way back to the entrance.”

“Or one of the undead.” You added, and lightly kicked at Siyeon’s foot.

She then proceeded to flop down against the seat and rise with her hands in front of her, making growling noises as she imitated a zombie, lunging at the both of you. The trio laughs at the antics and pushes her back onto her seat when she pretends to take a bite of your arm.

“Oi, behave in there!” Called out the driver and patted the side of the carriage, effectively hushing you and your companions.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escapes you though. “Whoops.”

“Seonghwa there you are!” The Queen exclaims when he arrives, lapels of his clothes properly pinned and his crown sitting on top of his soft locks.

Seonghwa greets his parents who were sitting upon their thrones, awaiting the delegates that were to arrive at any moment. He kisses each of their cheeks and sat on the right side of his father’s throne, back straight and head high- just as he was taught since the age of five.

A few servants ran around the throne room, sweeping up the linoleum floors and dusting the marble columns. The velvet rug that led from the entrance up to the elevated floor that held the thrones were freshly pressed and practically spotless. The King wanted to leave a good first impression on his people.

“How many do you think there will be, father?” Seonghwa asks, looking over to the man.

The King only straightened up and looked ahead. “Many,” He replies without turning his head to his son. “They come from all parts of our kingdom. I think half of this room may be filled.”

The prince manages to hold back a sigh. Instead, he exhales through his nose and curls his fingers around the armrests of his seat. He thought it was a bit of an overkill to have all these people train just to protect him. Despite the assassin coming from a different kingdom, he thought that bringing other people from within their kingdom imposed a risk as well- you never know if there could be traitors out there.

Nevertheless, he just learned to trust his father’s decision. He knew that his father was wise and well-aware of his decisions. He just hoped this method wouldn’t backfire…

“They’re all here already your highness,” A servant announces as they enter the throne room. “There’s quite more than a handful.”

With a nod and a wave of his hand, the king tells the servant to allow the delegates to enter. The servant gives a low bow and exits the door only to return a few moments later with the young adults. Quietly, they filed into the throne room, wearing different garments that fit with the place they came from.

People from the field lands wore hard, boots dried with mud and loose-fitting clothes to help them move around. Folks near the dock wore almost similar clothing but had more loose-fitting shoes and or sandals. The delegates from the mountain had already shed off their coats as the weather in the Capitol was much warmer. And finally, the folks from the city were more well-dressed, with button-ups, well-tailored pants, and sturdy boots.

You glance around as you shuffle in with your companions near the edge of the group. You hadn’t anticipated this many people to attend. It made your stomach churn with nervousness- there was big competition here. But you weren’t taught to quit this early- you were going to push on until you give out.

Others slinked away or flinched whenever a city-dweller looked over at them. It was a bit hard not to- they just radiated some sort of energy. An aura of power to be exact.

Seonghwa scans the faces of the delegates. They were all so different- in height, background, wear, and everything else. Many looked like they were reluctant to be there but many also had this look of determination in their eyes.

There was one gaze that caught his in particular. It belonged to a woman, maybe his age, standing near the back. He could tell from her garments, specifically the coat that hung over her arm, that she lived in one of the mountain villages.

Her lips were pursed together as she observed the palace around her. There were wonder and awe in them- but as soon as her gaze landed on him and his family, they steeled into something harder, one that read that it would take more than would think to take her down.

Seonghwa is pulled out of his thoughts by his father’s voice welcoming all the participants to the palace.

“Welcome to the Capitol,” The King booms, a warm smile on his face and his arms outstretched. “I’ll keep this brief, but I’d like to thank you for coming all this way. It means a lot to me, my wife, and of course- my son.”

All eyes shift over to the prince. It wasn’t the first time many sets of eyes were trained onto him but he felt nervous this particular time. Maybe it had to do with the fact that the circumstances were different, that they weren’t looking up at him while he stood beside his father during speeches or city celebrations or whenever he had to deliver the occasional speech. Yeah, that must be it.

The young man folded an arm over his torso and bowed a perfect ninety-degree angle. It was a silent gesture of his gratefulness for their efforts, eyes glistening as if all the stars were placed into them.

The King looked to his side and gave a nod. Two men came out from behind a pillar and stood at the foot of the elevated platform that held the thrones.

The first was a tall and burly man. A long white but faded scar ran from the top of his head and across his brow, just catching the edges of his eyelids. Because of the long healed injury- part of his injured eye had a milky-blue color to it, showing that he was partially blind. HIs muscled under his pressed dress suit flexed as he gave a bow and straightened up. He was the literal embodiment of tall, dark, and strong. Despite this though, he radiated a warm and inviting energy- especially with that soft smile of his.

The second was the man most people hated. It was the nobleman that went to the town of Trelark. He wore less warm clothing but his stupid purple feather plume hat remained. His silver beard seemed extra curled today and a shit-eating smirk was plastered across his lips.

The majority of the folk that came from the mountain villages had a sour look on their face when they saw the nobleman. They tried to mask it though to avoid any offense that it could bring to the king.

“This is Byron,” The King introduces the first man. “He shall be training all of you till one of you manages to succeed as the prince’s protector. And this is Duke Hae-seong, one of my royal advisers and a Duke of the kingdom. He shall help manage you and educate you around the protocols of the palace and the kingdom.”

“Yes, that’s right.” The Queen says softly, voice warm and gentle. “It is important not to only train the body but the mind as well. The prince’s protector needs to be knowledgeable of the kingdom’s laws and what his or her rights are as a protector.”

It was a very wise move on the royal family’s part and it made sense. They didn’t want the protector to overstep any boundaries, whether intentional or not or have any abuse in power on their part.

Many delegates didn’t seem pleased to learn that Hae-seong would be tutoring them though. He was impatient and very brash- he clearly was displeased with the way the king and queen took commoners into the palace without a single thought of doubt; he was just good at hiding it.

“Ladies, please follow Mina to your quarters. Gentlemen, Sir Byron will be the one to take you to yours. I hope you don’t mind sharing with others.” The King says and gestures to the crowd gathered in front of them. “And to show our gratitude, we shall be throwing you a feast tonight to commemorate your arrival.”

This seemed to brighten up the spirits of the young delegates. Energy fills them as the adrenaline of excitement rushes through their bodies. A few of them now their heads gratefully to the royal couple while the rest showed their appreciation through bright smiles.

“I thank you all once again for going through all this trouble. Now, freshen up. You’ll have a long day tomorrow.”

The group bows down to the family before them and separate into two groups to head over to their bunkers to rest and recuperate. You look back at the royal family again, seeing them step down from the throne and head to wherever they needed to be in this gigantic castle.

This was it. The game was on- and you were determined to win it.

#ateez #ateez x reader #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #royal au #royalty au #royal ateez #royalty ateez #prince park seonghwa #prince seonghwa #prince!seonghwa #fantasy au #fantasy ateez #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #regiis #fandomsonrequests

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