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shiny-jr · 1 year ago

Text

from DIASOMNIA

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: This is just the first part, only with Diasomnia. I’ll post the rest later once its written. For now, I hope you enjoy this part! Oh, and this was inspired by the mention of letters @qierxing‘s fic inspired by the whole imposter au idea. So yeah. Hopefully I caught all the mistakes in this post because I am not rereading all that again.

Diasomnia | Ignihyde

Among the first letters you pick is carefully sealed in a black envelope. You found it peculiar that Grim, who had offered to use his claws to open the envelopes, hadn’t been able to cause the slightest tear as if it were being protected by some magic. But it opened with ease during your first attempt to rip it open.

You didn’t care much for the wax family crest that had sealed it, or the black envelope itself. Maybe it would feel liberating to just set them all ablaze as soon as you finished skimming over the carefully written words.

To my dearest human,

I understand the pain I have caused you.

Ever since that moment I betrayed you, all I have seen in my vision and in my mind is your expression of terror. It tortures me. Your terror spurred by my actions and my very own hands. I am your most beloved and loyalest of companions in this world, and yet, had my retainers behind those doors not intervened, you would have been gone forever. And it would have been all my doing, all my fault.

I write this letter to apologize, but as I write this, I realize that there is no forgiving what has been done. Ever. No matter how I plead or what comes from my lips. But I will say this: there are no amount of words that can truly convey how sorry I am. This will haunt me for the remainder of my centuries of life.

Agonizing thoughts plague my mind and torment me at all hours of the day and night, at every and each moment. Even now, I reflect on everything I had done to harm you. While, the time I believed in those falsehoods was minuscule compared to the days others knew and acted upon it, the fact still stands that I was too easily deceived by mere rumors alone. I was blinded by my rage when I heard that someone dared to impersonate you and had been the probable cause of your vessel’s malfunction, that I did not even take a brief respite to consider the validity of the information that reached my ears.

Believe me, although I realize you have no reason to hold even a shred of faith in a single word I say and for that I would not blame you, but I will atone for the crimes I have committed. In any way possible. Even if it takes my entire lifetime, I will continue forward until I have achieved this goal and you may smile upon me once again. There is a human saying, which if I recall correctly I believe goes something like, forgive but never forget. Well, I would beg for forgiveness, while knowing full well that my misdeeds will never truly be forgotten. The harm I inflicted will leave scars that will never fully fade.

For every scratch my nails left on your delicate flesh, you may drive vines of the sharpest thorns against my own skin until blood pools all around me. For every bruise from my hand that tainted you, I would hand you an iron sword to use as you wish against me until you believe I’ve had enough. If it pleased you, I would even utilize my magic to transform into a figure with wings, which I would then proceed to sever the wings by my own hand and offer them to you on a silver platter.

Any punishment you can think of, I would readily accept.

Although living with the guilt of my mistakes and knowledge of the weight of my actions against you, is by far the most painful torture I’ve ever known.

If I do not receive word from you soon, I fear I may go insane with my own guilt. Yet I know I bring this upon myself. And if I were to go insane, if I was not insane this entire time already, you are all that would be in my thoughts. You are all that would remain in the part of my mind that is intact. You are currently and have been all that I think of, so perhaps my sanity is already long gone.

I would venture into the deepest crevices of hell and back, just to prove my worth to you. Even if I must be punished for the rest of my life, so be it. But I implore you to allow me to redeem myself, let yourself bear witness to the incredible feats I may accomplish in your name. Redemption... The thought of perhaps one day receiving the blessing of your smile and your grace once more in the near or distant future, is the light at the end of the tunnel in this dark period of my existence. I am yours. Whether you still desire me or not, I will forever be yours, and I will brave through trials of fire to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you.

Just know that I will do everything in my power to please you. Whether it be to fulfill the judgement you cast upon me, to demonstrate my worth and determination to achieve redemption, or simply because you command it so, it shall be done.

For now, I will wait on your response and deliberate over my next course of action. Should you desire anything, anything at all, wether it be something as simple as traveling to the store for a purchase, you have a moment of recluse and desire company, or if you command me to move the island or clear the very heavens, all you must do is speak my name. Then, consider it done. Once my name is upon your lips, I will be there as the last syllable leaves your tongue.

I will await the moment I am summoned.

Forever yours,

Malleus Draconia

That was... unnerving. Your hand unconsciously drifted up to the slight puncture wounds on your neck. They had long since dried, but you vividly remember feeling the thin trail of crimson being drawn and dripping down like a steady stream.

You could remember the way Malleus withdrew as soon as he realized the truth, like he had been burned with his hands on you in that fashion. The blood, your blood, staining his sharpened nails. The red was deeper than any nail polish or ink.

You were nearly sent spiraling, until you felt a tap and the texture of paper against your arm. When you glance down, you see Grim pressing his paws with another crumpled letter onto you. The ink on this letter is red, but the feline’s wide curious eyes are a glowing blue.

“You okay? What’s so interesting about that wall you’re lookin’ at? You’re kinda just staring off into nothing there.”

Offering a grateful nod to Grim who frowned worriedly, you accept the already opened envelope while tossing aside the letter from Malleus. “I’m good. Just... thinking.”

Lifting a hand, you place your palm against his head and scratch the spot behind his ears. Grim lets out a content purr and holds a bag of junk food, which he probably found among the mountain of gifts, and curls up beside you. You continue the slow and soothing scratches as you use your freehand to unravel the letter Grim brought you from the towering stacks.

This envelope was already cut open. It was a light brown and more square-shaped as thin rope kept it tied together. It had a mash of colorful strings that formed a messy bow to top it off. At least, you assumed it was meant to be a bow, but it looked more like a messy knot that would be impossible to untangle. Good thing it was already partially cut by Grim’s claws earlier.

As mentioned, the ink was red, an interesting choice. While the handwriting was not as elegant as Malleus’ letter. Some words were written neatly, before falling off the line and blending with other words. Making it a bit difficult to read, but you managed.

If you’re reading this,

This means that I am not irredeemable in your eyes.

Had I been beyond redemption, you would have not even opened this letter. If this was a lost cause, a merry dance, this paper would’ve been tossed into the trash without a second thought. But, my words have reached you. You’re reading this right now, aren’t you? It’s why I decided to write this. I could predict the actions you’d take. You are different from your vessel, but it’s only natural that you would act similarly to the silly little doll you controlled, the same doll that sparked this whole fiasco.

I truly am so sorry if I frightened you. While I will admit, it was my intention to strike fear into your heart and use you to serve for another dubious purpose, that was when I hadn’t recognized you. Although, I know this doesn’t mean much to you, I figured I should be entirely honest to you. It’s the least I can do. I’m such a fool for being quick to believe the rumors like some sort of senseless child.

All I can do now, is remain true and offer up my loyalty. It’s nothing compared to the mistakes I made, and I’ve made plenty, but I know an apology will never suffice. So, even if you’re still uncertain about redemption, I’ll remain loyal. Among all the beings and creatures I’ve met in my lifetime, you remain an enigma. You’re human, but at the same time, you’re different. There continues to be so much I do not know of you. I wonder, could you hear me whenever I spoke to your plaything? Do you recall the stories I told, of my time as a reckless youth? Foolhardy, wild, that I was. But I was also fiercely loyal. For the Draconias, I razed down all foes like wheat in a field.

Now that I consider it, perhaps it's best if you hadn’t heard me recount those tales. While I had been eager to share with you my experiences and act out my thrilling adventures, perhaps my story telling was much too graphic. I wouldn’t want the vivid details of bloodshed to be cause for alarm as our most recent encounter was far from pleasant. You have to forgive me, sometimes I get carried away when narrating my accomplishments and exploits. I’ll share more light-hearted memories with you the next time we meet.

Our first meeting with your true self really went abysmally, didn’t it? I know that things never really go as planned, so I don’t bother planning such things in advance. But, I had pictured it to be a lovely moment. Silver and Sebek would look at you with shining eyes and proclaim their loyalty as they had practiced vows over and over again for such an occasion, I would get to embrace your true form and unlock your secrets, and of course Malleus would be truly content for once as he finally received the company he deserved.

But, as expected, things didn’t go accordingly.

Those three youths are miserable, thinking of the proper words to pen, a way to apologize for the suffering they’ve caused. But now, we are the ones suffering because we hurt you.

They write and write, but tear their letters over and over again as they believe no words they’ve written so far are adequate. Soon they’ll realize that no words will ever be sufficient for an apology. Even if they were to create new words that are unheard of by any dictionary, it would not come close to being enough. That’s why I’ve decided to stick with this single attempt, because I already know that nothing I ever write will measure up to being acceptable.

There is something about you that always leaves me bemused. Your grace left me feeling dizzy and giddy, like I was experiencing a little crush again, although this was much more intense than any crush. The truth about your vessel controlled by you, had me perplexed as I had never heard of such a thing. And well, the disastrous chase that followed your arrival... you know that part well and could assume how I feel about that from what I’ve told you. At present, all I can do is remain loyal, for what my loyalty is worth to you. Beyond that, despite having an abundance of experiences, there is no such situation that could have prepared me for this moment.

Genuinely, I am stumped once again. I cannot even envision what can be done with my own two hands, that can be worthy of your attention once again and earn me redemption. But, you can be certain of one thing, and that is: my loyalty is undying. I still have a few years left in these old bones of mine, and I will use the rest of my life to serve you.

Whether you want me or not. If you still want me, I will be of use to you. Whatever you are in need of, a soldier, a plaything, a companion, or even someone to take out your anger on. I shall be it. If you don’t want me, I will still be there. I will always be there to smile and lift your spirits like you once did for me through your doll.

I eagerly wait for word from you.

Until we meet again soon,

Lilia Vanrouge

None of these letters were comforting in the slightest. In fact, they only placed you further on edge. For a moment, you considered stopping it here after only two and getting rid of the rest.

Grim by now had settled in your lap, and looked up at you with those watchful blue eyes. Had he been staring at you the entire time?

“Let me guess, they’re not taking it well?”

“No, not at all.” You answer with a grimace. If this was how they were like now, you didn’t even want to know how they acted when they found out your vessel stopped working over a week ago.

“Huh, sucks for them.” The feline stretched out, his claws poking out for a moment before quickly retracting as he plopped back down on his back with his stomach up. Maybe it was his own attempts to fill the silence, or to let you know you weren’t alone, but he eventually groaned. “Hey, read me one. I wanna know what they say.”

Unable to say no to your companion, you nodded slowly and smiled weakly, “Alright, alright, let’s see what we have here...”

You plucked out a random letter with neat packaging. However, just because the exterior was pretty, didn’t mean the interior message would be. You learned that already from the last two letters you had read.

This envelope looked somewhat similar to the last one, square-shaped and tied closed with string. However, instead of the knot of ribbons on it, it held a simpler gift. The brown rope around it was tied in a neat bow, and between the string were lavender stems with a small branch of wild berries.

Grim immediately indulged in the berries and the flowers, staining his little fangs and whiskers with the sweet sticky juice and purple petals. All the while exclaiming, “Oh, oh! I remember this letter. Some bird came to drop it and it flew away just before I could catch it...”

A short laugh escaped your lips as you hear him. “So that’s why you were grumbling this morning.”

Not wanting to be reminded again, he swat his paw at your nose as the feline hissed, “Shh! Just read already!”

Dear player,

I truly am deeply remorseful and I offer my sincerest apologies.

I was to be a knight, that has been something I have strived for ever since I was a child. A knight not just to serve Malleus but to protect others, and eventually I discovered my purpose was to serve you as well. But... all I did was stand idly by and watch the torment. Shortly after meeting your vessel, I had promised to shield you from all danger. I broke that promise.

I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been. Had just one person stop and thought things through, they may have realized the horrible mistake that was being made. Had I acted as soon as I felt the tug on my heart when I saw you weakened and on the dirt, I may have saved you from anymore pain.

Those eyes, your eyes, I see them in my sleep. You were scared, and through your gaze you were pleading for help, were you not? I see it every time I close my eyes. You witnessed it yourself, the very moment when I had failed you. You were right there, so close I could have extended a helping hand. But my grief rendered me sightless, all I could think of in that moment is how my heart ached and how I longed to see you again. Even if it was through your vessel. The rumors didn’t quite make any sense to me, as I wondered how could anyone possibly be so cruel as to tear you away from us?

Father had said that it would all be over soon. That capturing the imposter and bringing them to their knees, would make everything better. But when I saw you on the ground before we learned of your identity, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was alright. Would the player have wanted this? Would they have scorned upon witnessing the scene? Would this undoubtedly end the throbbing pain I felt in my heart? The pain was becoming unbearable, and I was not the only one to feel it. The news made little sense to me. Sebek insisted that it was true, and Father seemed to believe so as well. However, that is no excuse for how I went along as if it were okay.

You were innocent and helpless, you, the player, not only witnessed the scene but were the victim. I’m so sorry, I should have done something... If it were the only way to gain your forgiveness, I would spend every moment of my waking hours writing letters of apology. To do so I would keep myself awake for as long as humanely possible. If asked, I would use every moment to pen these letters, each different from the last. Although after several attempts in redoing this single letter, I realize that it would be a pointless endeavor.

After reflecting, the only way to make up for what I have do is be patient.

Be patient and await for word from you. I cannot force you, I cannot pressure you, I can only pause and prepare myself to do whatever I must in order to earn back your grace.

Please, do not keep me waiting too long. I know I have no right to ask you this. I’m willing to wait years if needed, but part of me has this fear that I will never regain a spot near your heart until I’m frail and feeble with age. Rest assured, even in old age, I would be willing to be your knight. Even if my bones ached, I would raise my sword and shield. If I couldn’t use my weakened legs, I would call upon a horse to be my steed. And if I were to become magicless, I would use the remainder of my physical strength to serve you.

If I may be honest with you? I have no idea what to do. Yes, I said I would wait, but what else can I do? What can I do to eventually secure a place beside you, if it were possible? In times of trouble I normally turn to Lilia and Malleus for advice, however, I am a bit unsettled by their approach to this delicate matter. Truthfully, I am anxious, but while they share the sentiment, they are oddly confident that things will turn out alright in the end. I am unsure how they can muster the self-assurance to quell their fears. Maybe they know something that I do not, and have decided not to share this secret for now...

Nevertheless, for now I’ll eagerly anticipate the day we can reunite just as I have dreamed. I greatly look forward to the second where not only I can see you smile once again and your eyes might finally look at me with content, but also the moment where all those I know might get the opportunity to be in your peaceful grace.

I’ve dragged this letter on for too long. If you were to take something away from this letter, let it be this: I will carry out your wishes. No matter what you may think of me, whether it be a positive or negative image in your mind, I will continue forward in your name. Even if you think me unfit for the title of knight, then consider me a humble servant instead. Nothing will shake my commitment, and I will do whatever it is you ask.

This is a pledge that will not be broken.

Cordially,

Silver

This letter felt a bit lighter than the others. Still, it was slightly intense in its own way, but it was nowhere near as extreme as the previous two were. And, maybe you had a better opinion on Silver, not because he was gentle with his words but because he was one of the very few who hadn’t threatened you, directly harmed you, or treated you cruelly.

But! He didn’t get a free pass just because of that. Yes, he may not have directly caused any harm, but he didn’t exactly help you either.

Grim had taken the letter from you, and inspected the paper in his paws. He held it above his head, scrunching up his nose a bit as he looked it over. “I dunno... he’s okay.”

At that, you roll your eyes a bit as a smirk crept up from the corner of your mouth. “You’re not just saying that because his letter came with a snack?”

“No! You think me easy to bribe? I think not! It would take a whole bucket full of berries just to get me to even discuss it. Then, I’d turn them down and take the berries anyways!” The feline proclaimed his brilliant plan should that situation ever arise. Maybe the gifts you allowed him to take were starting to get to his head. “But... he could be worse. Silver, as dumb as he was like everyone else, he did hear me out after they separated us.”

Silver did that? If that were true, it’s possible that he wasn’t as bad as the others who had wronged you.

“That’s... good to know.” You murmur as you pluck up another random envelope from the pile.

The last envelope you pick up before you planned to take a break was surprisingly plain. It was just that. A plain white envelope, sealed by green wax with what looked like a family crest that depicted a creature with fangs and scales. One of the corners was crinkled, as if it was gripped too tightly there.

As soon as you slid out the folded letter, you were bombarded by the ink. Whoever had wrote this, seemed like they applied too much force. This caused certain parts of some letters to be too round and heavy with ink that made those bits feel damp and stain your fingers the slightest bit. Like whoever wrote this, placed just as much pressure with their hands on the pen gliding across the page, as much pressure as they felt weighing on their mind.

Great Player,

As I pen this, I am on my hands and knees.

I have prepared a multitude of letters which I will send daily, so that now and in the future you will continue to hear my apology and know I truly mean it. One admission of regret is not enough. An apology is only an acknowledgment of an offense, it does not absolve one of their wrongdoings. I know this! So, I, Sebek Zigvolt, will atone by any means necessary!

To you, the player who I wronged and deserves nothing but happiness and perfection, I give my deepest sincerest profuse apology. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY. Right now when I look at my hands that I use to write, I’m reminded of the vicious way I grabbed you like some... heathen! These hands sullied your flawless self, and for that alone I will never forgive myself!

Had it not been for the wise words of Master Lilia and the bothersome yet logical reasoning from Silver, I would have been at your door everyday, every hour, begging for a second chance. In the midst of brainstorming, I presented my idea of crawling on hands and knees, from Diasomnia to the Ramshackle Dorm, to deliver the letter myself. Then, I would display whatever cuts or bruises formed on my palms and knees which I would receive from the rocky roads or thorns, that way you may see my devotion was true and no lengths are too great when it comes to you! No matter the pain or burden! The idea seems to appeal to Lord Malleus, but I was told that it comes off as too extreme...

But! I beg to differ!! I only consider it so that you may understand what I feel, so that you might comprehend the things I would do for you, and receive me back in your good graces! Additionally, delivering the letter in this manner would cause me as much or more physical pain than I caused you! It is a shame that things have come to this. I had wished so much for our first proper meeting to be one of joy where you might accept me as your knight! In spite of that, I will not falter in shame! If I were to deliver the following letters in that method I had detailed earlier, I would wear the scars proudly! It would be physical proof of my faithfulness towards you!

I am sorry, and I will continue to say it. Perhaps, this may be presumptuous of me, but if you consider it, Diasomnia did not torment you nearly as long as any other insolent dorm had! And! We retainers accompanied Lord Malleus every day to check on the wellbeing of your vessel, and watch over it while investigating various possible approaches on how to revive Yuu. We diligently did this until the moment we encountered your true self!

I swear to you, no one shall harm you from this moment forth!

From now on, I’ll march forward and see to it that you are never hurt ever again! This is something I know that my fellow dormmates will tirelessly work toward as well.

Have you realized that we have been guarding you and the serenity of your dorm in the past days? Have you not thought it strange that none have come to needlessly pester you? Yes, that is all thanks to the efforts of those in Diasomnia! Even when you do not realize it, we are insuring your welfare and the tranquility you require to recover! Of course, as much as I desperately want to inform you of the details, I will not. It is best you don’t know.

Now, I must be honest with you. Originally, I had planned this letter to be much longer and have contents that would have been much different than what you are currently reading. I aimed to be honest in my feelings! But before I could sign off on the original draft, I realized that the others may be in the right. It is possible that our devotion, my devotion, may come off as disquieting if I were completely sincere. I’ve had to restrain myself on many occasions, reminding myself to at least appear collected and controlled. That is not as easy as it sounds!

How could it be, when the one I must suppress my emotions and actions for, is you? That’s as if asking to repress part of my very soul and heart! I absolutely detest hiding it!! But when I remember this is for you and your own comfort, it becomes bearable. I can only hope that soon, very soon, I might be able to unveil my true sentiments towards you! As intense and extreme as they may be!

It seems that I’m nearing the word limit that they imposed. Once again, I apologize. I’ll have to contemplate new ways to write ‘sorry.’ I wish I could write a million more words for you! But even a million words wouldn’t be anywhere near a satisfactory amount for me to detail how much I revere you! And it would take more than another million words for me to write a full apology, but even then I wouldn’t be satisfied! No single letter is adequate enough, so be prepared to receive the rest I have written!

I will make sure they are delivered posthaste!

Faithfully,

Sebek Zigvolt

Great... you’re back to being unnerved again.

There was something about them all being so weirdly obsessed, but in vary different ways. Malleus and Lilia puzzled you, they had you feeling the most uneasy by far. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were both not human, they were arcane beings with enigmatic personalities and objectives that were incomprehensible to you.

Out of the four, Silver was the only one that was fully human like yourself, but even he was a bit of a mystery as he was raised by the fae. It was hard to be wary of him, which was probably because your distrust and fear of him wasn’t as intense as it was towards the others due to his good nature and lack of actions he took during the whole disaster.

As for Sebek, well, he was unnerving in his own right but it was nowhere near on the level that Malleus and Lilia were on. At the very least he wasn’t a complete mystery to you. It was easy to figure out his intentions, because he either said them or wore them on his sleeve.

Your mind was spinning as you looked over the four letters, filled with lines upon lines and more lines of pages. In that moment your breath quickened as you noticed the cloudy sky outside. For a brief second, you feared you would see that familiar flash of green lightning, taking you back to that dark day when you nearly died. It’s like you could feel Sebek’s hands tightly gripping the back of your skull that forced you against the earth, you saw Silver’s sorrowful gaze that spoke a thousand words you didn’t yet understand, you heard Lilia’s words hinting to a doomed fate of becoming some lifeless doll, and god, you couldn’t forget him even if you wanted to. Malleus. He was the worst of all. You felt his nails and fingers constricting around your neck and squeezing out all the air, you saw his haunting green eyes with those slit pupils as he glowered at you with such anger and hate, and you heard what you had thought would be the last words you ever heard come from his lips––

“Hey!”

You were torn out of those dark thoughts by the feline in your lap. A concerned frown tugged at Grim’s lips, but once he saw he had your attention, he mustered a slight grin as he held up what looked like an armful of snacks. At least, as much as he could carry in his small paws. From his grin, you could see his little fangs still covered in the remnants of the berries and flower petals.

“Look, I found your favorite! This is getting boring, so let’s just take a break!”

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mochiepie · 5 months ago

Text

Sukuna's Temptation

I have changed some part of the story according to my preference, as it is based on my perspective. It's just a fiction and i ain't following the arcs/actions/happenings of the manga.

Part-2

Characters involved :- Ryomen sukuna/reader🦋

( reader seduces sukuna, uses of abusive words, small amount of sex#al actions, Smut would be in the part 2 )

Heian era period

Sorcerers were fighting The king of curses "sukuna" all by themselves. Sukuna has attacked

The village again due to the rebellion of the village people against him.

Backstory :-

Few sorcerers entered this infamous Rich village only to know that, this village was living under the terror of sukuna and they are forced to send sacrifices to sukuna as he is their "king". The village was rich and prosperous only because sukuna favoured them. And that's why the villagers weren't ready to rebel against sukuna. The sorcerers couldn't accept that women were getting sacrificed every month just for the village to stay alive. The sorcerers managed to give hopes to the villagers somehow and assured them that they would defeat sukuna and give them back their freedom. But in order to defeat Sukuna they must bring sukuna here out of his hideout. Nobody knew where he lived, so to do it so, the ritual of sacrifices must be stopped, that would cause sukuna to notice it. And then.. sukuna would come to check it.

This was the plan of the sorcerers. Little they knew about the power difference between them and the "King of curses".

Present time -

Sorcerers were dying one by one. Sukuna was walking on their body as if they were some sacks of rice. Half of the population in the village vanished within 2 seconds. Rest of remaining ones were bowing and begging "him" to stop, to show mercy on them. The leftover sorcerers even started to begg, they lost their pride, the greed to live was now controlling their minds, as they knew.. it was death who was standing infront of them. The death was dressed as the king of curses.

Sukuna :- you, filthy ungrateful creatures sought to rebel against me? ( Disbelief)

Villagers:- i-i-t wasn't us my lord.. th-this sorcerers were fueling us.. they-They blackmai- us ( incoherent cries and begging)

Sukuna looked over to the dead bodies of the sorcerers. A slight feeling of pride entering his body as he took a good look of this sight.

Sukuna:- 70 sorcerers.. hah. 70 sorcerers came to fight me and.. died within 5 mins. ( Smirks)

Villagers:- we- we shall follow your command my lord. Please forgive our sin. You shall take anything from us, but just let us live my lord. We will never ever think of committing such a sin again my lord. If any of us even thinks of doing such sin, we shall cut their head and send it to you my lord.

Sukuna:- oh my! You seem to be great at giving assurance hah? ( Looks at them with an amused look) I see. Fine.. i shall forgive you all~ bu-

Sukuna's sentence was cutt off in between by the sudden entry of the woman, who lunged at sukuna hitting him with a powerful cursed energy infused kick on his back. The villagers were shocked, their eyes almost gauging out of their sockets. They couldn't believe a human.. moreover a woman having the guts to attack him.

Sukuna was taken back.. he made sure he killed all sorcerers right? Then how come 1 survive, and how did he not feel his presence? He got up from the ground asap to turn around and see... A woman?

His eyes were... Wide open as if stucked.

" not just a woman, this one was.. intriguing" he smirked at his thought

Sukuna:- my my, the audacity you had little mortal. Tell me, you really think you can fight against me?

( looking at her body up & down )

Y/n:- bow down and leave before I cut you into pieces and feed you to the hyenas you insignificant creature!

Sukuna:- ( amused) oh my my... Look at the little mouse. Ain't your words much bigger then your whole body? Speaking alot more then your capacity hah? ( Grins) well then.. I shall slit that mouth of yours right now to.. remind you how to talk with someone superior (smirks)

Sukuna lunges towards y/n, he was all ready to slash her. Y/n dodged easily and stood behind him, she wrapped her legs and used one of his four arms to stabilise herself. She grabbed his neck and started to place little kitten licks on his neck. Sukuna froze at the moment he felt the wetness of her tongue. His body giving up. He felt the touch of plenty of women.. but.. this woman.. was intriguing him, luring him, and moreover even rebelling against him to fighting him.. and now? Now seducing him in the middle of the fight? Thoughts occupied his mind. He was lost into the pleasure of feeling her tongue. He groaned in satisfaction. His hands finding her to pull her infront of him. Y/n still didn't leave licking his neck, she still kept on sucking and licking his jawline, to neck, to his collarbone. He was just groaning. The villagers were in shock to see such a lewd scene. They began to talk and whisper amongst themselves which brought sukuna back to reality. He pushed y/n off his embrace, causing her fly over quite far.

Sukuna:- think you can use your body to lure me? You stink, fukin whore. Not even my lowest level of curses would want your loose stinky pussy ( furious yet disappointed that the pleasure was taken from him )

Y/n:- is that so? ( Smirks) then why were you groaning my little babyy ? ( Taunts)

Sukuna was taken a back. His pride was hurt. His ego was trembling. Sukuna lunged towards her again aiming at her mouth to slash. She dodged again but this time.. she landed a hard kick on his head. Sukuna's fighting technique was deteriorating due to his mind filling with lust and desparation for this unknown woman and at the same time his pride and ego being hurt.

Sukuna was about to stand up but y/n sat on his back.

( like this lmao 🤣)

Backstory of Y/n :-

she was a sorcerer but her curse energy wasn't high, so due to being weak she used her body to seduce and lure so that she would get some time to find the weak spots of her enemies and hit on it on the right time. For her survival she had chosen this path, she was a resident of this village and she was against the process of sacrifices. To end this terror of sukuna, she finally managed her guts and will power to fight him she knows that she can't defeat him. But she is buying some time as her fellow sorcerers will arrive anytime soon in the village to help her. That's why, she is trying her best to seduce him and keep him intrigued on her. )

Y/n began her seduction tricks on him. She scratched on sukuna's kimono resulting his kimono to shred into few pieces. She began to lick on his ear.. " don't you want me.. my king?"

End of this chapter. Next chapter coming soon.

#jjk x reader #smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna headcanons #sukuna scenarios #sukuna fluff

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solspina · 2 months ago

Text

Where is a Line for Justice Drawn?

magnus the red ⋆˙⟡

a short little blurb i threw together while i was trying to lull myself to sleep last night! not heavily edited, so i apologize for any mistakes!

heresy is unforgivable, and magnus knows this better than anyone. psykers are heretics, and leman russ knows this better than anyone. the blood of the crimson lady and a young red skinned girl is the only way to pay the price.

warnings: major character death, child death, mentions of burning/heavy injury, angst and more angst, leman is very cruel

Pride will be the death of you.

Among his brothers, it was a common misconception that the pride of Magnus the Red lay solely in his power and knowledge of the unseen universe. They believed that he took the most pleasure from understanding things even the emperor didn’t, or took great joy in knowing more than the rest of them.

Their judgements were far from the truth, for it lay instead in the things they failed to see. His pride was a perfect two sided coin, one in which the sides belonged to different women respectively, none other than his wife and daughter. His brothers knew not of this, all of them besides Leman Russ.

Leman knew the truth. He knew where the sorcerer buried his deepest weakness, it was within that pathetic psyker of a wife and the vibrant red skin of his half divine daughter. He knew of the heresy that had been committed by Magnus upon prospero. He knew how to bring Magnus to his knees. He knew that Magnus feared him.

Perhaps that was how Magnus had gotten into the position he was in today.

His wife lay motionless on the floor, her pure white robes were bloodstained and dirty, an indication that she had tried to run away. An arrow was nestled carefully between her shoulder blades, penetrating her heart and pulling her away from life incredibly slowly.

Magnus knelt by his wife’s side, weeping ever so slightly as his heart shattered further with every passing second. He avoided the gaze of Leman who stood across the room. The crimson king’s infant daughter was still in the arms of the wolf, but her voice no longer cooed sweet nothings into her father’s ears or babbled at absolutely anything. Her skin, the same color as his, now paled in comparison to its once vibrant beauty. His child was lost, gone before she could ever say her first word or experience premonition.

Aside from the great king’s gentle sobs, the crackling of flames and the screaming of entire families could be heard outside. The noises, along with the suffocating smoke in the air, came from the streets of Prospero as it burned.

“One of them felt no pain, Magnus” Leman’s voice echoed across the room as he looked down upon the crimson skinned child, not a wound on her body. He didn’t want to know how she died. He wanted no knowledge of what the wolf did to his daughter. “The other, though…”

Bruises and small cuts had completely littered every inch of his wife’s perfect skin, a surface that Magnus used to caress with such gentleness and care. It was undeniable that she would put up a fight. Inevitable that she would try to run, only to be shot through her most vital organ of life the moment she made it into Magnus’ arms. Unavoidable that Leman would walk into the room immediately after the shot was fired, their daughter lifeless in his arms.

Even now, she clung to him with the last few moments of life she had within her. Her hands were placed upon the primarch’s shoulders as she shook in terror against him.

“Please” her voice trembled as tears spilled from her eyes. “I don’t want to die… I’m scared, Magnus…” Her expression was full of fear and her voice was barely above a whisper. He could tell from the way she looked at him that she was desperately seeking comfort, but he failed to grant her that wish. He wanted to reassure her, to tell that everything would be okay, but his words caught in his throat.

He was frozen, unable to process the gravity of the situation. He could not bear seeing her afraid like this, nor could he bring himself to lie to her. Helplessness washed over him like crashing waves, pulling him in and out of reality as he cradled her in his arms, one last time. “Magnus,” she spoke once more, her words weakened as she became tired, his own voice still failing him to speak. “I love you…”

In the blink of an eye, she was gone. An incredibly broken “I love you too” finally made it’s way out of his throat, but far too late for her to hear.

Leman laughed maniacally, sickeningly. “A death fit for a psyker.” He spat, venom and contempt dripped from his voice. He walked across the room with a chilling calmness, Magnus’ daughter cradled in his arms. With a grotesque mockery of calmness, Leman placed the lifeless baby gently in her cradle. He had covered the young girl with her blanket, creating a display as if she had merely been asleep. He was teasing the weeping crimson king with every action, the cruelty of the executioner in its most pure form.

“My work for father is done here” claimed the wolf, his teeth beared in a smile as he looked down upon the pathetic excuse for a sorcerer cradling his wife. “Heretics are to be executed, brother” Leman declared, his voice cold and unyielding. He before turned on his heels as he prepared to exit Magnus’ tower, his tattered cloak billowed behind him. “You should know better.” were his final, cutting words to the crimson king as he left him to drown in his grief. His beloved tower, once home to both his family and infinite pillars of knowledge, had come to feel like more of a tomb.

Magnus carefully removed his wife from the ground and placed her down on their bed, one they shared while she was alive, before making his way to the cradle his daughter lay in. He lifted her from her bed and away from the blankets that Leman had tainted with blood, the face of the babe was peaceful and serene despite all that had happened, despite her lack of life. He opted to lay the baby in the arms of his wife, allowing the only two things that mattered more than knowledge to appear together one final time. He looked upon them with sorrow, trying desperately to convince himself that the two of them were simply sleeping. It had just been a long day and they were tired, that’s all this was.

His hands trembled as he caressed the baby’s cheek, her face illuminated by the bright orange flames that raged outside. He lay his own body next to the two women, one arm over the both of them. He spoke to them, sharing with them stories and knowledge that even humanity had not yet touched, they never would. Prospero burned, and the unrelenting flames would not cease.

Perhaps it was not selfish for the primarch to allow himself the liberty of dying next to his wife and daughter. The flames that burned his skin could never match the warmth the girls used to provide when they lived, and he’d take every ounce of the fading heat until he emitted none of his own.

Would it be selfish to become the monster that Leman had suspected? Would it be selfish to wish for change?

#warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #warhammer 30k #warhammer 30000 #warhammer headcanon #magnus the red #magnus the red x reader #leman russ x reader #leman russ #primarch #primarch x reader

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harlothane · 27 days ago

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Theon and Fear - And at the end of fear...

George R R Martin’s ASOIAF focuses on the "human heart at war with itself". In doing so, it provides a compelling, complex and deeply touching exploration of human emotions. One of the dominant emotions the characters are faced with is fear.

I especially love how fear is shown in Theon's storyline. His backstory and the events unfolding in his six Clash of Kings chapters and seven Dance with Dragons chapters, taken alone, constitute a raw, emotional and unsettling account on the many faces of fear. What it does to people. How it changes them, motivates them, corrupts them and may regenerates them.

“Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?”

“That is the only time a man can be brave.”

There is no need for a long look at Theon’s storyline to see in which ways Eddard Stark’s infamous moral lesson applies to his struggles. Here is a character that commits crimes in the beginning of his storyline, goes through hell because of his misguided choices (led by his fear), finds his courage as he faces true terror and accomplishes one of the most selfless and brave acts in the series to save a girl.

I do feel like I’m missing pieces of the puzzle writing that, aren’t I?

The misstep, I think, is to draw too hastily a parallel between Theon and the other Winterfell boys around his age – Robb and Jon (it's a common issue in fandom and actually had a negative impact on the reading of Theon's storyline, I think. Read : x).

Unlike them, at the beginning of the story, Theon already knows fear. Both Jon and Robb had a decent, secure childhood. While Jon surely has grounds to feel dissatisfied with what life has to offer a bastard like him, he did not grow up in fear. At the age of nine, he probably had faced rejection, loneliness and disdain. But not true, traumatizing fear like nine-year old Theon had to.

19 year-old Theon in Winterfell has already been scarred by fear. He is not a knight of summer in that regard, as his entire personality is a product of fear, to the point where it becomes hard to pinpoint what his true self consists of exactly (that becomes evident as we are invited to his internal monologue in Clash, which is full of inconsistencies, rewrites and contradictions related to the way he sees himself).

We know for certain that, as the story begins, Theon is already familiar with the fear of rejection and humiliation (inflicted by his brothers and felt as an outsider in the North), the fear of losing his loved ones and his home (inflicted by war and the soldiers fighting that war) and some repressed kind of fear related to Euron and possibly his magic. He’s been abused and is still suffering from the lingering fear of death, cultural isolation/exclusion and loneliness.

What fascinates me with this storyline especially is that there is never an easy answer. It is a feature of ASOIAF as a whole, to be frank. I suppose that as a horror genre lover, I am especially drawn to the way Theon's story deals with fear. How it corrupts, how it paralyzes, how it regenerates.

Fear as corruption.

Theon, a “shy” child, “in awe” of his brothers, has crafted a personality to guard himself against the threats most frightful to him (humiliation, being unloved and unwanted, abandonment).

A personality that existed to guard himself against the world and more precisely, the men in power who could use him. A personality tailored to please his captors and his father, the ones his life depended on. His clothes, in this regard, are another part of the armor. Their purpose is to please, seduce or appease the ones whose approval Theon needs at the moment (though I truly do believe he likes his velvelt and silks, he still immediately suggests his father that he would change it if it would please him).

Living with those fears of being unloved and unwanted changed him profoundly as harrowing experiences always do. Fear is the one constant in his early life. His personality developed around it.

Theon mimics Dagmer Cleftjaw’s smiles because the warrior was one of the bravest men he knew in his early days and a hostage far from home needs to channel that tough, invulnerable spirit.

Theon was a child who lived in awe of his violent brothers, so as a young man he acts accordingly, as if spilling blood makes you worthy, as if life were a game to win no matter the cost for the weak and innocent (no matter the price children and mothers pay, no matter the price he himself paid for his father’s ambition!).

I know the Theon we meet in Clash isn’t the most agreeable person ever. It’s the point.

In truth, he is a hardly a person. As in, a human entity with consistent memories to ground him (even before Dance, he represses memories, seems to have forgotten a great deal about the Iron Islands and I believe we may learn more about this in Winds), and autonomous desires and hopes (in spite of himself, he is constantly trying to fit the expectations of the men he fears/wants to emulate – Eddard and Balon).

Even the way he expresses his sexual/sensual desires feels at times as a performance meant to impress or prove a point… read : x or x).

He doesn’t even have a future, and he knows that deep down. As Robb is crowned though and devise a plan with him to ally himself with the Islands, Theon’s hopes rose up and that is how suddenly there was in the sky a comet that heralded his bright future.

He seems like a “closed book” to the world around him, but he was more of a blank page, really.

A mess of fears stitched together with a smile. Fear really is the constant.

What would you do, if you were constantly afraid? Cut from the rare people and places that gave you a sense of security?

What would you do, if – that’s the greatest irony – you were surrounded by people who thought of you as a thing to be feared, an animal to be tamed.

Interestingly, Theon is known to be brave in battle, perhaps even reckless. Robb states it plainly: “Theon has fought bravely for us.” Dagmer Cleftjaw knows Theon “is no craven”. In Winterfell, he is ready to die with the few men who stayed with him.

Being shaped by fear did not make him a coward. It made him desperate and unreasonable. For one, Theon knows fear intimately and there is no greater terror than the unknown, after all. He knows war. He knows death. He is still haunted by the battle of Pyke.

Still, he is eager to march with Robb’s army. Still, he wishes he could have faced Jaime Lannister on the battlefield. And still, he would have died for Robb, he would have died for his father.

He shouldn’t be so eager to march with an army led by the people who hurt his own family so deeply. War traumatized him already. It separated him from his family. It obliterated his future, destroyed his prospects. But his fear of humiliation, rejection, loneliness – it overtakes all. Then again, I understand that Theon in Clash can be difficult to empathize with to some, but if you read his reaction with the knowledge that this is a person who is constantly in a state of true, agonizing fear, I think it changes your perspective a little.

The horrible outcome of all this is that by trying so desperately not to be seen as a weak thing people can use for their political gain, Theon becomes it. For Ramsay and Roose. That is not karma. That is the definition of a tragedy.

It has been said before: Ramsay is a secondary-(tertiary) character, he exists to embody Theon’s worst sins and fears. That is his nightmare, breathing and living and flaying every piece of a carefully crafted personality Theon made in the North to stop being afraid, to reclaim power and control over his fate.

Fear didn’t allow him to be brave. It made him desperate, easy to manipulate. He takes Winterfell in a foolish attempt to be the person he thinks he must become. The self-made Prince. The heir who returned in glory. A worthy son of Balon Greyjoy.

That is the story he tells himself and others. In truth, it becomes apparent he took Winterfell in a desperate attempt to make his “almost-home” his at last.

In a desperate attempt to belong somewhere he could have everything – power and recognition and love. It is the type of extreme decision you make when you let fear overtake your reason. Any other choice would have been more reasonable. It wouldn’t have saved him from fear, though.

Most of Theon’s bad choices are a result of fear. It made him crave power with the same intensity as he secretly wanted love and recognition. In Clash, Winterfell itself, the castle, its people, embody his fear of rejection, of being unloved and unwanted. He represses it. Until he can't escape it even in his dreams.

The two desires, to have agency/power and love, clash violently in Winterfell, an arc in which Theon’s starts to completely unravel as he does everything in his power to be a hard man like his father, like Eddard (no matter how contradictory), while spying the tiniest hint of affection or gratefulness in his captives’ eyes.

After all, in his own experience, it is possible for a captive to admire and crave his captor’s love.

To want to help them. To be part of their family. And he seemed to expect the same from the people of Winterfell. Even in Dance (because torture doesn’t erase your past trauma!), he still believes he could have reasonably expected them to help him

His constant fear has twisted his view on loyalty (you cannot be loyal to someone who imprisons you), love and desire (he links lust and violence), power and justice (“hard men rule the world”).

It corrupts his desires, even. Of all the sexual encounters, or thoughts, he has, none seems genuine with the exception of Esgred, who is not a real person but the embodiment of the nonchalant, confidant attitude he wishes he could adopt as easily. She is everything he cannot be. She belongs. She commands respect. She has a family. And as she divulges her real identity to him, Asha becomes someone to fear. She is in his place. She is him, the heir, the son, while he is nothing and nobody.

Fear as a paralyzer

It is not surprising that Theon would smother from early on the parts of his personality that made him sensitive to fear.

His need to belong brings only fear (he will never be part of the Stark family, but he still dreams of it until he buries that dream as well).

His empathy brings only fear (he demonstrates in Dance his ability to connect with broken people used by the ones in power he could have shared experiences with but couldn’t because of his fear of humiliation).

It shows one limit to Eddard’s reasoning. Fear, sometimes, changes you in such a way that it hinders your ability to be brave (as in, to make the most moral choice against your own immediate interest).

Growing up with constant fear drove Theon to stifle his empathy, making it hard for him to protect other people, as you would expect from a prisoner whose life is a bargaining chip that hinges on his father’s and his captor’s will, from a man who cannot even help himself.

Growing up in constant fear jeopardized Theon’s ability to make long-term, realistic plans for his future, as he barely has any stable support to hold onto. His entire existence does not belong to him. NB: In this regard, it is logical that most characters he is paralleled with throughout his story (Jeyne P, Barbrey, the dead lady Hornwood, Holly who has the same cocky smile and arrogance as his old self, Alannys with her white hair and even Dany…) are women, who are more likely to be stripped of agency, must fight to claim autonomy and struggle to regain a semblance of control over their destiny.

He has many faults, though it cannot be said in my opinion that he did have a good choice to make and that he simply chose wrong by trying to please his father. There were only bad roads that led to imprisonment, death or ruin for him. Theon realizes this in Dance: he cannot bring himself to imagine a bright future. No, he regrets not to have died with Robb. He knows his path was filled with fear either way.

Fear is a paralyzer. It does, in a sense, alter Theon’s capacity to grow and evolve.

Fear makes him an apt survivor (he’d survive a horror movie in messy “final girl” fashion), with a great potential for adaptation. But it corrupted him in the process. Led him to embrace a (faux) cynical attitude, to be over-zealous with his own captors to the point of risking his life for them and most of all, to opt for cruelty over mercy contrary to his own (sometimes contradictory) values – in Winterfell, he hurt others, and it haunts him, but he stands by his choices.

His fear of being mocked, used and humiliated drowns every other motivator.

He is so afraid to be seen as he thinks the men of the world want to paint him: a weak creature to be used. Someone who needs to bargain and submit to keep his life. It is rather in line with his way of thinking that he would consider himself a whore after Ramsay subjected him to his power and abuse in Dance.

“Only a fool humbles himself when the world is so full of men eager to do that job for him.”

That’s it, that’s the philosophy. Theon has his moments of incredible self-awareness, and this is one, hidden beneath some moral lesson as a pretext.

It shows that:

He has a bleak, but rather realistic view relating to most men in power. They will abuse it. They will humiliate the weakest. They will do so eagerly.

He hasn’t met Ramsay at that point. He may instead be thinking of his brothers, of the lords who humiliated his defeated father, of his own father maybe, or perhaps (in my opinion) Euron.

His arrogance is a deliberate strategy designed to avoid the fate reserved to the most fragile people.

He doesn’t judge the men who abuse their power but doesn’t seem to view them in a positive light. Still, consciously or not, Theon sometimes acts like those men. Since he is mostly deprived of real political or military power, he does it in the context of his sexual relationships (that deserves an analysis, especially regarding how sexuality in his chapters is so often if not always depicted in a negative, degrading manner.). It’s a “eat or be eaten” kind of mentality he is struggling with during his Clash arc.

Fear instructs him to repress the slightest sign of weakness. There cannot be true loyalty, love or desire in such a state. You survive. You are barely living. You just survive.

The rare sincere relationships he forms are short-lived – Patrek Mallister is the son of an enemy family; Robb Stark cannot ever be his equal; his bond with Asha is poisoned by envy and fear, again, of his place being stolen by her.

Theon’s mind favors denial/dissociation and repression as a defense mechanism. It doesn't exactly help him to form sincere relationships with people. It’s a motif throughout his storyline that echoes the stakes relating to Ironborn culture in the story (they must remember their history or they’re condemned to repeat it – that’s the symbolic role of Rodrik the Reader in Asha’s storyline).

Most times, he tends to rewrite reality - consciously or not. Of course, he will be welcomed by Balon Greyjoy! Of course, his traditionalist father will agree to submit to Robb Stark! Of course, he, the hostage, will be given Asha's place that she (of course!) stole from him! Of course, he is destined to be one of those hard men who rule the world, not an eternal victim! Of course, he is not afraid, and even if he is, even brave men feel agonizing fear about other men seeing their weaknesses!

We soon discover how fragile this mechanism really is. The façade cracks more often than Theon would like. There are many instances of this, especially in his conversation with Dagmer ("I know you are no craven" "Does my father?") and Rodrik Cassel ("The noose I wore was not made of hempen rope but it chafed, it chafed me raw"). Worst of all, he allows Reek/Ramsay to amplify his fear. When I write "allow", I do not mean he did it on purpose naturally. But he is the one who freed Reek/Ramsay. He opened the door to a living nightmare. Reek/Ramsay quite literally haunts him in his Clash chapters.

What he cannot rewrite, Theon represses. It does not seem like it at first glance because he is prone to reckless decisions. It can lead one to categorize him as a vain egomaniac, not as a repressed person. His promiscuity doesn’t help, since we are wired to associate repression and modesty.

It is true terror that he is obligated to repress - and it is what comes flowing unbridled as he loses his armor in Dance. This kind of dread is mostly associated with Ramsay (there are so many instances I won't even go into it) and, well, Euron (the slight unease Theon felt about his uncle during ACOK can - and must - certainly be revisited with our current knowledge about him, the fact that in ASOS it is established that Theon revealed awful details about his uncle to Robb, and the now evident parallels between Aeron and Theon).

Fear as a regenerative force

In Dance, the "dread" Theon feels in the crypt of Winterfell is "familiar". And I think you can see it as his fear of being unwanted. Of belonging nowhere.

It makes sense: Theon fears what he truly is. A prisoner, a scared child and a pawn for men to use in their plans. It is the truth he can never escape, no matter how perfectly he plays the Hard Powerful Masculine Man.

Fear pursues him all his life. It is only when he has no fear left to feel (it was all spent in a cell of the Dreadfort; all his fear is caught by Ramsay, who is the embodiment of Theon’s insecurities) that he shows his more empathetic and gentle nature – although he still feels anger, bitterness and the occasional dread, of course.

Still, it is not a bed of roses. Theon is certainly more sincere. He is not putting on a performance for himself. When he lies, he is terribly conscious of it. He doesn’t manage to repress his traumatic memories anymore. It all comes back, flooding. Even such buried memories as the ones related to Euron.

In a way, Winterfell acts in his story as the theatre scene, the place where you can finally be yourself. I wrote a bit about this here. It serves as a catharsis for Theon. In Winterfell, he is able to find pieces of himself. Pieces he had forgotten. He starts to remember the childhood he had buried ("A son of the Islands" / the Euron related reaction in Winds).

Fear had been eating away at him. Fear had been controlling him, at times. Not that he wasn't responsible, but he certainly let himself be overcome by his crippling fear of humiliation (which, sidenote, I don't believe stems only from his status as a hostage but that is another story).

Fear had been breaking him piece by piece since childhood. Just like the rat he eats at the start of Dance - it had been eating him first! He had to defend himself against the threats even if it meant hurting and killing in the process.

It is in Winterfell that he finally confront his fears - that he meets the one essential fear he had been trying to escape: himself.

The lies become a motif, even. “False is all you were.” Theon never lied as a manipulator would, though. Most times, he does not seem to understand the coherence (or lack thereof) of his own actions – which is also a side effect of fear (or to be precise, the fear caused by childhood mistreatment). It causes confusion, alters your awareness and hinders such abilities as analysis and planning.

However flawed Theon was, he was a prince, he was a warrior and a friend, he was handsome, he took care of his clothes and weapons, he saw a comet and decided it shone for him. He wasn’t much of a real, sincere, coherent person, but it was the most functional version of himself he managed to be in his situation.

The man he pretended to be could never have survived the Dreadfort, though. He had to disappear. Was he even real? The façade barely made it through his Prince of Winterfell era. Chances are, had he escaped Ramsay, Theon would still have been forced to confront his true self one way or another.

He is stripped from all his usual defense mechanisms in a horrific torture labyrinth. He becomes the weak thing he always feared he’d be seen as. He cannot hide. He cannot lie. He cannot even smile.

Every single fear he ever had becomes his new reality.

Humiliation: check.

Being controlled and used as a thing: check.

Mockery and disregard: check.

Friendless and abandoned: check.

To escape from fear, he can only repeat the partition he learnt as a child hostage: apply the rules of the people who can cut off your head at any time, and be the well-behaved prisoner so you can rise again later and impress every the ones in power who can share their power with you (a very Ironborn strategy, actually).

Except, there is no escape this time. The flaying knife has cut through the armor Theon had crafted for himself. He has no way out (another motif throughout his storyline). He has no secrets left and no smile to hide behind. He cannot forget his status as Ramsay’s pet by exerting power onto others. He is the very last creature on the food chain this time.

And so, there is nothing to fear anymore.

The Dance chapters are filled with terror and dread, until Theon pieces himself together. Then he regains some composure, purpose and faith, even. He finds his courage within himself, where it always existed, in truth. And, in Jeyne, he finds a motivation. Saving her, a child prisoner, abused and terrorized, he also saves what little of himself he can.

The only time he can truly be brave is when he doesn’t have to fear becoming fully himself at last. Whatever that means, in the end. At the end of fear, something must remain. Something must be rebuilt. Piece by piece.

#theon greyjoy #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #it's not really meta #more like scattered thoughts #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf epiphany

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renthony · 5 months ago

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🏳️‍🌈

My beloved wife @natalieironside wrote a book titled The Last Girl Scout, which features a kickass cast of queer characters and stars a pair of trans lesbians who fight both zombies and nazis. Natalie's own promo post is here!

You can buy a copy via Amazon, and this is the official plot summary:

The past lies like a nightmare over the world. Two hundred years after the War when atomic fire rained from the skies and burned the world to cinders, human civilization has had time to rebuild within the burned-out husk of Old America. But the old terrors of the past still persist, and while some work to build a better world, others still dream of reclaiming the glory of the Old World. In southern Appalachia, political commissar Magnolia Blackadder is sent on a mission into the irradiated Exclusion Zone of Old DC, where an evil that humanity thought it had vanquished centuries ago is waking up and rebuilding its strength. Along the way, she meets a strange woman with terrible secrets and an unspeakable past, and as they forge a bond and brave the terrors of the wasteland together, she learns that some demons are not so easily exorcised, and that some stones are better left unturned. In this her debut novel, award-winning author Natalie Ironside delivers a new vision of the post-apocalypse, a tale of adventure, terror, love, and that most basic and most powerful of all human desires: Freedom.

Obviously I love it because my wife made it, but outside of that, this book is genuinely one of my favorites. I'm so glad she shared it with the world, because it makes me feel better when I start feeling overwhelmed about all the bad shit out there.

In The Last Girl Scout, there are still queer people meeting, building relationships both romantic and platonic, and supporting each other even when the world is on fire. People make fucked up bad decisions but receive support after they choose to do better and commit to healing the harm they've done. Parents support their trans kids. The power of gay love brings renewal and hope. I think we need more stories like that in the world.

Also, there's a gay vampire DILF.

Drop a 🏳️‍🌈 in my inbox and I'll respond with a queer media recommendation!

#original post #ren's media recs #the last girl scout

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scrupulosity-comics · 1 year ago

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hey is racism one of your obsessions? also white and ocd. if it is, how u cope with it? i'm really afraid all the time to hurt my loved ones who are black people, and they're the majority of my loved ones. and how do u identify whats racism from whats an intrusive thought?

Most of my race-related OCD is abstract stuff like “if I move out of my parents’ house and try to live my own life outside of their control, I will have to find somewhere I can afford to pay rent, which will probably mean moving into a low-income neighborhood, which would mean inadvertently helping to gentrify the community, which would gradually push the original residents out of their homes and disrupt community ties and support systems and creating housing insecurity, so therefore I can’t move out or move on”.

I think that’s just part of a larger existential terror that I can only ever make the world worse by living in it—a net harm to the universe, molecule by misspent molecule.

I have been letting this ask sit in my inbox for weeks now because I’m convinced that anything I say will be destructive. What if my answer enables or excuses racism? What if my answer fuels the anguish of the mentally ill?

The rational and compassionate part of my mind insists that your loved ones (and mine!) understand that you (and I) are white, and have likely dealt with white peoples all their lives, and are capable of judging for themselves whether you are good to them and deserving of their intimacy. It is impossible to go through life without hurting and being hurt by people you care about—always you will have blindspots and miscommunications and competing needs. That’s just part of the curse of consciousness and being a social species. We all get a little blood on our hands eventually, one way or another… friendship involves knowing this, accepting this, and committing to avoid it and then, that failed, to make things right.

Again: your friends know you’re white. They have reason to expect the best of you or they wouldn’t be your friends. They choose to have you in their lives; trust them to trust you, and to recognize the difference between a beloved friend struggling with a treacherous and unkind brain and doing their best in an inescapably racist society, and a racist who whose bigotry makes them unworthy of their time and affection.

I do think racism obsessions are a particularly difficult manifestation of OCD to cope with because they’re hard to discuss at all without feeling like you’re implicitly asking for absolution. With other types of OCD, it’s common to seek reassurance that what you’re obsessively afraid of isn’t true—but what feels more racist than asking someone to reassure you that you’re not racist…? LMAO.

They say the “cure” to OCD, such as it is, is just to learn how to embrace the existential horror of uncertainty. Tall fucking order. Hell on Earth! But in a bizarre way I have found the rhetoric that “everyone is unconsciously and incurably racist” to be unexpectedly helpful… there is no total psychological purging and mental purification we can undergo, no amount of ritual self-flagellation that will drive the demons out, no pristine state we can aspire to and hate ourselves for soiling. Only mundane everyday commitments to compassion and empathy and solidarity and cleaning up our messes. But even then, a thought isn’t a mess. A thought I’d not a thing that happened or a choice you made. It doesn’t represent an alternate timeline branching off into a parallel universe where you have acted on it and hurt people.

Earlier this year I was playing a video game—during my lunch break I got to wondering what happened if you failed a skill check that I had passed in my own playthough, so I looked up a clip on YouTube and was so triggered by the answer (the player character calls his companion a racial slur in the heat of the moment, without meaning to, even if you’ve played him as a committed anti-racist) that I immediately spiraled and was close to throwing up in the broom closet, and when I got home I opened my own save and tried to make the player character kill himself as catharsis. It was an incredibly unreasonable guilt response to a completely fictional scenario that I hadn’t even gotten in my own playthrough, but in retrospect it was a safe way to explore fear of my own internalized racism hurting somebody and what might happen if my intrusive thoughts came true. It sucked and it was terrible and I was angry at myself for being crazy about it, but it ended up being a small dose of exposure therapy and practice at not repenting for nonexistent through self-abuse.

I dunno. This has been a long uncomfortably personal ramble but I hope it’s helpful. I don’t know if your friends know you have OCD (or how it manifests) and I don’t know whether telling them would help. But allowing yourself to trust others to trust you is far more useful than beating yourself up for thoughts you don’t want. I have on occasion warned people that I am cautious about doing certain things with them—particularly drinking—because there is a risk that I may spiral and show symptoms humiliating and uncomfortable to both of us, and I don’t want to put them in a position where they witness or feel like they have to help me manage the white guilt elements of my disorder. These conversations have usually gone well, and the mutual understanding to boundaries takes some of the tension out, which seems to reduce the triggers. It’s messy and awkward and maybe it limits who is willing to be friends with me, but IMHO it’s better than surprising someone.

As for determining whether something is an intrusive thought or actual racism, I guess my answer is: does it matter? Would you manage them differently? Intrusive thoughts may be an evil voice in your brain, but racism is an evil voice in society’s brain.

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zuko-always-lies · 7 months ago

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I swear Zuko is the only character where people can look at a scene of him terrorizing an indigenous civilian population who his people have been decades committing a genocide against and go "look how soft and not truly bad he is" merely since he left after he got the thing his terrorization was after.

#anti Zuko

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jesterbells · 26 days ago

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Tumblr New Word Dictionary

I love new words. So here's a list of recently created words and idioms I have learned through tumblr (not all of these terms were invented on tumblr but that's where I learned them):

blorbo: a fictional character you're a fan of. Coined by thelustiestargonianmaid.

"I'm so hungry I could get banned from facebook": coined by babyslime in response to a Wil Wheaton post

GORIMM: Gross Older Relation I Must Marry. Source: bethanydelleman

hlep: when a disabled person asks for a specific kind of help and "they do something that is not what you ask for but is what they think you should have asked for ... Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hlep." Source: giantkillerjack's therapist.

horse fantasy: something that is theoretically possible unicorn fantasy: something that is definitely (or almost definitely) impossible. Source: bemusedlybespectacled.

zomancy: soup divination. Source: cryptotheism.

UFOs: unfinished objects--"something that is unfinished but in hibernation," as distinct from WIPs. Source: knitting community and bylambd.

autoenshittification: turning cars into digital extraction machines to steal your data and money through digital infrastructure and microchips, and the endless repair nightmare of digital car systems and cybersecurity vulnerabilities. Source: mostlysignssomeportents

nude: "when your clothes are off." naked: "when you're clothes are off when you're up to something." nakey: "when you are an animal and your collar has been removed." Source.

sideways fan: following a fandom second-hand. Source: capricorn-0mnikorn.

spoken Garamond: "the over-emphasized voice people use to read poems." Source: Frances Klein's friend.

nongry/nungry: when you're starving but also don't want to eat any of the food in your kitchen. Coined by tathrin.

scrumbling: scrolling on tumblr. Coined by the mum of anti-terf-posts.

window shipping: "any shipping done without actually watching/reading the work in question." Coined by lurker-no-more.

friend John / a Friend John answer: "when someone asks a relatively reasonable question in context and the enquiree 1) speaks at length without answering the question, and 2) implies the enquirer has injured the enquiree by even asking such a thing how could you." Coined by sileana.

bitism: a new school of media criticism which asks the simple question: is the work committed to the bit? Coined by linecoveredinjellyfish

snors d'oeuvre: having a little nap on the sofa before taking onseself to bed for main sleep. Coined by SJKSalisbury (can't find the tumblr repost now).

socratic terror: "what every athenian felt when they went down to the agora in the 5th century and saw an old man with a beard approaching them." Coined by lesbianshepard.

introvirtuous: "when you're introverted but have taken on numerous leadership and outgoing roles in your life." "I'm here to help. But I'd rather not be." "Someone around here has to get things done. and unfortunately it's going to be me." Coined by soundslikerhetorical.

grundlous: "of or pertaining to grundle." Coined by IMLIZY.

concretes: specific aspects of a character that persist across interpretations. The essential, structural essence that makes a character recognizable as the same person. Rarely physical traits; subjective. Coined by Ladylark and kayanem.

skeletonin: "the happiness chemical released when you see a ghoul or perhaps a ghost." Coined by gwentrification.

broflakes: "the weak, fragile 'alpha' males who are so easily threatened by strong women." Source: rickladd (can't find the tumblr reblog atm).

the planet of hats: "the thing where a people only have one thing going for them, like 'everyone wears a silly hat.'" Source: Star Trek fandom & TV tropes, learned via homonculus-argument.

feelings yakuza: "those who turn their personal discomfort into a social evil and try to erase the target completely." Source: Japanese fandom via マロミチャン.

Ship of Thesaurus / Rogetism: "When a student copies an essay online instead of writing it and then painstakingly changes every word to a synonym until the text no longer makes any sense." Coined by trek-tracks and Chris Sadler respectively.

Flemming's law / vibe dysphoria: "the most toxic person you've ever met over-relates to woodland creatures on social media." Coined by Chris Flemming and canadianwheatpirates.

fight with a gorilla: "any secret or invisible struggle." Coined by punksandcannonballers.

squimbus from my polls: the poll version of blorbo except for obscure fan favorite characters. Coined by yardsards.

pebbling: "the act of sending your friends & family little videos and tweets and memes you find online, like how penguins bring back pebbles to their little penguin loved ones." Source: NurseKelsey (can't find the tumblr reblog atm).

serpentineabouts: roundabouts that aren't round. Coined by paulgadzikowski.

luft: air equivalent of wet. Coined by questbedhead.

getting the good bologna: "when you experience something of better quality and then you’re doomed to no longer be satisfied." Coined by the family of kelssiel.

hypofixation: "the kind of things that you've autisticly decided you Do Not Care About." Antonym of hyperfixation. Coined by animate-mush.

#dictionary #my compilations

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theplotmage · 7 days ago

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Murder Mystery Tropes with Paranormal Fantasy, Horror, Whodunit and Slasher for Writers

The Detective - The main investigator of the crime, possibly with a supernatural edge.

The Red Herring - False clues or suspects designed to mislead.

The Locked Room Mystery - A crime committed under seemingly impossible circumstances.

The Butler Did It - A classic misdirection where a seemingly minor character is suspected.

The Femme Fatale - A seductive woman with potential hidden motives.

The Alibi - Evidence of suspects' whereabouts during the crime.

The Gathering of Suspects - Bringing all suspects together for the final reveal.

The Amateur Sleuth - An ordinary person drawn into solving the mystery.

The Police Inspector - A professional law enforcement officer involved in the investigation.

The Mysterious Stranger - A new arrival with unknown motives.

The Hidden Motive - Characters with secret reasons for their actions.

The Unreliable Witness - Witnesses with contradictory or biased testimonies.

The Hidden Clue - Seemingly insignificant details that are key to solving the mystery.

The Confession - A character admitting to the crime, often under false pretenses.

The Final Twist - An unexpected revelation at the end of the story.

The False Confession - A confession made to protect someone else.

The Cover-Up - Characters attempting to hide their involvement in the crime.

The Intimate Setting - A small, closed environment where everyone is connected.

The Victim's Secret - The murdered person had a hidden past or secret.

The Revelation Scene - The detective explains the solution to the mystery.

Paranormal/Horror Elements

The Cursed Object - An artifact tied to the victim that brings misfortune.

The Haunted House - The murder site known for ghostly occurrences.

The Vengeful Spirit - The ghost of a previous victim seeking revenge.

The Demon Possession - Indications that the victim or suspect was possessed.

The Shapeshifter - Rumors of a creature changing forms, adding confusion.

The Supernatural Detective - An investigator with paranormal abilities.

The Blood Moon - A rare celestial event coinciding with the murder.

The Psychic Medium - A medium providing cryptic clues from the spirit world.

The Ancient Ritual - The murder tied to a forbidden dark ritual.

The Disappearing Body - The victim's body vanishes, leaving eerie evidence.

The Doppelgänger - A sinister double causing confusion and fear.

The Possessed Doll - A creepy doll inhabited by an evil spirit.

The Time Loop - The murder repeating itself in a time loop.

The Night Terrors - Horrific nightmares providing clues to the murder.

The Sinister Prophecy - An old prophecy predicting the murder.

The Evil Twin - A malevolent twin emerging, complicating the investigation.

The Necromancer - A character raising the dead to manipulate events.

The Shape-Shifter - A creature changing forms, difficult to track.

The Forbidden Book - A dark magic tome found at the crime scene.

The Mysterious Fog - Supernatural fog hiding crucial evidence.

The Living Portrait - A portrait that moves, providing eerie clues.

The Witch's Familiar - An animal linked to a witch, influencing events.

Slasher Whodunit Elements

The Masked Killer - The murderer hides their identity behind a mask, creating fear and mystery.

The Final Girl - A trope where one girl, often resourceful and strong, survives the killer's rampage.

The Isolated Location - The setting is cut off from the outside world, increasing tension and fear.

The High Body Count - Multiple victims are killed throughout the story, each death more gruesome than the last.

The Survivor's Guilt - Characters who survive the killer's attacks feel intense guilt and paranoia.

The Urban Legend - The murders are connected to a local legend or myth that many believed to be just a story.

The Creepy Warning - A strange character gives a foreboding warning about the danger that lies ahead.

The Phone Call - The killer taunts the victims or the detective with eerie phone calls.

The Chase Scene - Thrilling sequences where characters are pursued by the killer, creating high tension.

The Brutal Weapon - The killer uses a distinctive, often gruesome weapon, like a machete or chainsaw.

The False Safety - Characters believe they are safe, only to find out the killer is still near.

The Dark Past - The killer's motives are tied to a traumatic event in their history.

The Power Outage - A sudden loss of power plunges the setting into darkness, heightening fear.

The Split Up - Characters decide to split up to cover more ground, often leading to their doom.

The Hidden Lair - The killer has a hidden lair where they plot and prepare for their attacks.

The Betrayal - A trusted character is revealed to be an accomplice or the killer.

The Fake-Out Death - A character appears to be dead but later reveals they survived.

The Booby Traps - The killer sets traps to catch and kill the victims in inventive ways.

The Creepy Clue - An unsettling object or message left by the killer, serving as a taunt or clue.

The Frantic Escape - Desperate attempts to escape the killer, often through dangerous or narrow paths.

Occult Fantasy Elements

The Magical Artifact - A powerful item with dark magical properties, central to the plot.

The Enchanted Forest - A mystical forest where occult rituals and creatures reside.

The Coven - A secret group of witches or warlocks practicing dark arts.

The Prophecy - A foretold event involving dark forces and mystical events.

The Secret Society - A hidden group with its own occult agenda, influencing events from the shadows.

The Sorcerer - A powerful magic user who may be an ally or an antagonist, often dabbling in forbidden magic.

The Occult Creature - Beings like demons, dark fairies, or shadowy entities that play a role in the story.

The Cursed Bloodline - A family with a dark curse affecting their fate, passed down through generations.

The Forbidden Spell - A dangerous spell that holds the key to solving the mystery or defeating the antagonist.

The Hidden Realm - A secret world or dimension that characters can access through occult means.

The Quest for the Dark Grimoire - A journey undertaken by the characters to find an important book of dark magic.

The Ancient Rune - Mystical symbols that provide clues or have magical effects.

The Time Portal - A gateway that allows characters to travel through time, often tied to occult practices.

The Occult Warrior - A skilled fighter who protects others using magical abilities and knowledge of the dark arts.

The Healer with Forbidden Knowledge - A character with the ability to heal using dark or forbidden magic.

The Shape-Shifting Demon - A being that can change its form at will, adding layers of deception.

The Enchanted Weapon - A weapon imbued with dark magical properties, essential for defeating the antagonist.

The Book of Shadows - A book containing powerful spells and rituals that characters seek or use.

The Dark Oracle - A seer who provides cryptic prophecies and guidance, often with a sinister twist.

The Elemental Forces - Characters or creatures that control the elements (fire, water, earth, air) through occult means.

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flanaganfilm · 1 year ago

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You have spoken about dealing with addiction in the past (congratulations on your sobriety, btw), and Hill House, Midnight Mass, Doctor Sleep, etc, all feature characters struggling with addiction. Do you find a sort of catharsis in writing those characters and their storylines, and do you find that having gone through that affects how you write those characters and their stories? p.s. if the question is too personal, I apologize. You are, of course, free to ignore it.

Happy to talk about it. I was writing about addiction long before I admitted having a problem. Looking all the way back to my student films, many years before Absentia, I can see myself starting to pick it apart. The fact is I was a really shitty drunk. I was absolutely a problem drinker. It was always that way, going back to school - I was never able to handle it, and there were times throughout my life starting very young when that thought would occur to me, and I'd get scared, and then I'd convince myself I was being dramatic and that I had no problem whatsoever.

The truth is that I didn't have an OFF switch, I was inclined to hide my drinking, and the older I got the more self-destructive I became when I was under the influence.

But I was also very committed to the belief that I could handle it, and that I didn't have an actual problem, so for years I'd coast by, telling myself whatever issues I may have had weren't so serious. "Nine times out of ten, I'm just fine - I'm the life of the party," I'd think. I wasn't, though, and soon enough it was 50/50 whether I'd have to make apologetic phone calls on a given hungover morning. And those stretches where'd I'd really let go and drink hard, the person who emerged was less and less like me. It got to the point I didn't recognize him at all - there was this stranger who lived inside, and if he got out, he was could destroy everything I held dear, and he didn't give two shits about it. Looking back at the last decade of my work with the perspective I have now, I can see an escalating subconscious urgency in the way I was talking about alcoholism and addiction. My 2003 student feature Ghosts of Hamilton Street features a wanna-be writer with a horribly self-destructive alcohol problem. The people in his life begin to physically disappear, and the world around him resets as though they never existed at all, so he's the only who notices. I was 25 years old when I made that movie, and looking at it now, the addiction issues are a huge blinking red light all over the movie. At the time, I thought it was just interesting context for the character.

I wrote the opening scene of Midnight Mass (which features Riley Flynn waking up from a blackout drunk driving session to find that he's killed someone) all the way back in 2010, eight years before I finally sobered up. That was always something I was absolutely terrified of - not that I'd die because of my drinking, but that I'd kill someone else and live with the consequences. That was probably my biggest fear for most of my life, if I'm honest. And there were mornings I'd wake up at home and wonder how the hell I'd driven myself there the night before. I remember those mornings with a stomach-turning degree of terror and shame.

It was always somewhat cathartic to write about characters with addiction issues. There's a long stretch between Absentia and Hill House where it appears that I'm not dealing with those themes in my work (though I'd argue there's a subtle addiction meditation at play in Before I Wake that I've only recently noticed), but I was also secretly working on Midnight Mass that entire time, and just pouring all of my thoughts and anxieties about alcoholism into that story. So while Oculus, Hush, Ouija: OOE, and Gerald's Game don't seem to dwell much on addiction, that's really because I was spending my nights pouring all of that into the pages of Midnight Mass, which existed alternately as a novel, a screenplay, and then a series during those years.

Working on Doctor Sleep is what brought it all to the surface for me. Stephen King's novel deals thoroughly with the theme of recovery (The Shining is about destruction of addiction, and Doctor Sleep is about the journey and reality of recovery), and a lot of people in my cast were sober. It was while we were shooting that film that I realized I needed to make a seismic change in my life.

My wife will say that reading the scene in Doctor Sleep where Dan sits at the Gold Room bar in the Overlook was when she knew I was reaching a critical moment. That scene isn't in King's book, and my first draft of that conversation between Dan and Jack was almost fifteen pages long. It's basically a prolonged argument between the addictive and sober voices in my mind, and writing that scene shook something loose in me. I stopped drinking just a few days before we filmed that scene for that movie, and I haven't had a drop since.

But for catharsis, Midnight Mass truly is the most personal piece of work I've ever made. Riley is a very thinly disguised avatar of myself. I look at that series and I see several distinct versions of myself in conversation with each other over more than a decade. I'm glad it took so long to get that show made, because if I'd made it in 2016 like I wanted to, I wouldn't have done a good job - there is no way I could have told that story until I was finally sober. If you listen closely to the AA meeting scenes between Riley and Father Paul throughout the series, you're basically looking directly into my conflicted brain over many, many years.

This year is my fifth year sober, and I spend my days happy, busy, and so grateful that I was able to make those changes before my drinking destroyed my career, my marriage, and my life. I was lucky. I am lucky. But since I finished Midnight Mass, I haven't felt that pull when I'm writing. I haven't felt those themes elbowing their way into my work. That part of me is still in here (it always will be), but I feel like I was somehow able, over many years, to coax it to sleep. I'm sure I'll return to those themes over the years, as I hope to learn more about myself and have more to say... but for now, those voices are peaceful and quiet. I have projects on the horizon that will touch on some of those things (if I'm able to make The Dark Tower, there's some wonderful elements with Eddie's addiction issues that I look forward to exploring) but it feels different.

One of the things I hold onto when I look back at that time is the hope that the work can be helpful to someone else who may struggle in a similar way. And talking to fans, I've heard here and there that it has, and that means the world to me. I think storytellers can't help but use their stories as a mirror, it's one of the ways we take ourselves apart, look at the pieces, and put them back. It's one of the only ways we can see ourselves clearly.

Sometimes we don't even realize we're doing it. It's only looking back that we can see ourselves, and our work, with any real clarity.

#midnight mass #alcoholism #sobriety

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shiny-jr · 2 years ago

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damnation (peek I?)

Warning: Yes, this is a yandere thing. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Ace Trappola, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Riddle Rosehearts.

Summary: When you commit a crime, you receive a punishment. This is especially true in your society. No matter the crime, your punishment is the same: banishment. But to where you will be sent in exile and how miserable will it be? No one knows, because no one has ever returned.

Note: So, as mentioned in previous posts, this is only a snippet of what is to come in a project I’m working on. I just wanted to do something for my followers since we have surpassed the milestone that is 4,000 hearts, which is huge. So thank you! Unfortunately, I don’t really have time for a special like I’ve done before where I accept requests since I’ve been so busy with irl stuff and the current twst quiz project. So here’s a small bit of what you can hopefully expect. Remember, I may or may not change things, so what you see now may not be the same later in the final result. That being said, I’m sorry I couldn’t provide much else besides peeks at three of the seven results. I still have a LOT more to write. Like, a ton. But I hope you all look forward of what is to come. Added: Deleted the Scarabia and Pomefiore part to create their own sneak-peeks later.

I . . . II . . . III . . . IV . . . V . . . VI . . . VII

First there will be questions you must answer. Questions that I will not reveal in this sneak-peek, but based on the answers you give to those questions, you will receive a result with a story. This post is a peek at some of those stories/results. Important things to keep in mind that you learn from the questions:

The mc is deemed a criminal in their society.

All criminals in this society are banished, no matter how insignificant or significant the crime may be.

This particular society makes a show of banishment, to make others fear this fate. Which mc recalls seeing trials on tv about past criminals.

All criminals are never seen or heard from again. No one knows for certain what happens to them, but most assume death.

Although the most popular fantastical theory is that criminals become henchmen for infamous evil-doers, and receive punishment there that may range from anywhere like a violent painful death to spending eternity in some tiny horrid prison.

THE RED QUEEN

Robes. You were wearing robes of the finest quality that weighed heavily on your shoulders. This surface you laid on felt... nice. Soft, nothing like the hard bench of the prison cell. As you sat up and recalled your current dire situation, you felt a sense of dread loom overhead like a thick blanket of gray clouds. Immediately, fearfully, you scanned your surroundings. Everything was painted red, there was so much red velvet. The floors were polished checkered black and white and the furniture, if not completely red, was crafted of finely carved wood. It was fancy here. Safe, for now. Wherever this place was.

There was something hefty on your head, only noticing its weight settling on your skull as you moved to stand up from the crimson red sheets on the king-sized mattress. As you removed the item from your head, you were perplexed to see a small golden crown and a heart-shaped staff beside the spot you had laid on. Wait just a moment... red everywhere? A fancy setting? A crown and a heart-shaped staff? Rapidly you dashed over to the mirror just beside the bed, gasping at your appearance.

You were dressed just like royalty. And not just any royalty, like a king. A king of red with a heart-shaped staff... Just like the meek king that was married to the ruthless Queen of Hearts from the fairytales. So it was true, criminals were often sent to dangerous tales where they would perish. And you... you were a criminal and you were here, but... you were the king. How did the story go again?

The Red Queen, or Queen of Hearts, ruled over Wonderland with an iron fist. She would behead anyone who got in her way, and her reign terrorized the residents of the realm. That is, until Alice fell down a hole and arrived in Wonderland. She would eventually free this land from the oppressive rein of the queen. As for the king... what happened to him again? He didn't really appear in the story. You wracked your memory for an answer, when the horrid realization came to you. The Red Queen had been so terribly jealous and suspected that her husband was cheating, that she had him beaded! His head left to rot as it floated in a river of blood, surrounded by the heads of other victims, and the king's lifeless skull still with the crown. He had died before Alice even arrived in Wonderland!

You clutched your neck, grimacing at the thought of your own detached head, crown still attached, doomed to sail in a moat of blood. It made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it. There had to be a way to prevent your death, or at least stall for time, but how? The king couldn't just up and run away! People would take notice immediately, someone would inform the queen, and you'd be a goner for sure! But then what? You couldn't kill her either, could you...? It certainly was an idea. You would be doing a favor for the rest of Wonderland too...

THUMP!

Abruptly the doors flew open, nearly causing you to shriek. But you managed to hold your tongue as you quickly placed your crown back on and clutched your staff. When your eyes focused on the door, you were surprised and almost relieved to see the figure of a short young man that had slammed the doors open. He was... rather adorable, actually. It caused you to tilt your head, endeared by his appearance.

The young man had hair that shamed the red roses, and wide gray eyes. As soon as his eyes landed on you, however, his face grew flush and his expression twisted into one of rage. Immediately he slammed the doors shut behind him, stomping up to you, his heels violently clicking against the tiled floors. When the short young man was in your face, another horrible realization dawned on you. With that crown on his head and his wondrous red garbs, this could only be the queen. Or at least, someone meant to be the red queen.

“You knave! Where have you been lurking?!”

“I…” You were at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say? What was the king even doing before you got here? Most importantly, how would you avoid the queen’s wrath?

At your lack of a response, he only seemed to grow more frustrated as he threw wild accusations, “You–– You’ve been sneaking about, seducing the men of my court, haven’t you?! I shall have your head––!”

“Wha–– N-No, I haven’t!” You blurted out. The king was originally beheaded because the queen was jealous and thought she would lose him to others. So if you could assure him that your heart belonged to him, well… survival just might be possible. Although acting wasn’t necessarily your strong point, you could only try for the sake of living another day. Nervously you smiled, throwing aside your staff as you lifted your hands to gently hold his fist he had been angrily waving near your face. Thank god he didn’t have a knife or anything of the sort, or you feared he may have tried to stab you out of raging envy. “How could I ever dare to throw my loyalty to you away…? You are amazing…! I apologize sincerely if I haven’t been able to express my love for you properly. S-Sometimes it feels like you’re really too much for my heart to handle, you in all your… glory…!” Oh god, this was going terribly. All you could do to give the messy act a bow to top it off, was lean your head down and hesitantly kiss the back of his hand.

Miraculously, that seemed to work. Almost. The queen’s face was no longer as flushed, but he gazed down at you as you lingered at his hand. Suspicion was still evident in his eyes. “How do I know?”

“H-Huh…?”

“How do I know you aren’t lying? How do I know you won’t leave me as well? How do I know that you still love me? Prove it to me.” Those gray eyes of his watched you carefully, seemingly unhappy with your lack of a response. After about five seconds of no answer, his face scrunched up and he bellowed, “Guards!! Gua–– mmph!”

Not knowing what else to do, you kissed him. He wanted a sign of devotion, right? Oh god, this was it. Your death was here and now. You had no other way to shut him up. If you covered his mouth with your hands, you were a goner. If you attacked him, you were a goner. If you tried to continue reasoning, you were still a goner! You can’t believe that this was how you died, having to kiss a stranger as your last desperate attempt to live. Well, he wanted a sign. You were ready for him to push you off and armored guards come running in to drag you to the guillotine, when the most unexpected thing happened. He froze, he didn’t fight back or scream bloody murder.

When you slowly pulled away, you were stunned. His face was flush again, but for an entirely different reason other than anger. There was a dazed look on his face, and it almost looked as if he wanted to do it again judging by how he gazed longingly at your lips. It was then you understood that your reckless decision making might’ve just saved your neck.

The red ruler frowned, but you were unsure if it was because he was unsatisfied with something or if it were for another reason entirely. This time, when he opened his mouth, he spoke softly, as if still dazed. “You scoundrel… How dare you play with my heart like this? I should still take your head for that.” You gulped, but he continued. “But… I truly didn’t want to get rid of you. So I’m glad we can avoid that now. I expect to see you well away from the noblemen.”

“Y-Yes… Your Majesty.”

At your obedient response, he smiled and patted your head. “Good.” Taking one step closer, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against your cheek. He lingered there for a few moments, before taking one step back.

The action left you flustered, embarrassed, because not only had you kissed a stranger but they had kissed you in return. And not only that, this crimson ruler believed you were his partner, the king! Under normal circumstances, you would’ve considered yourself lucky to land in such a position since the king has so much power and wealth. But in this type of situation, you can only shudder to think of what may come next and what would’ve become of you. Because these were no ordinary circumstances, and this was no normal kind ruler.

“Come along now. I don’t want you alone, do you understand?”

“Yes… Your Majesty.”

He beckoned you towards the very doors he entered from, and when he opened them, you were met with another character. It was a tall man with glasses and short messy dark green hair. Immediately he bowed to the queen, but when his eyes landed on you, he looked as if he saw a ghost.

“Change of plans, Trey. We will not be beheading my dear today. Nor tomorrow, I think. They’ve become quite affectionate, so my doubts have been dismissed.”

“O-Of course, Your Majesty…” The glass-wearing man, Trey, glanced over at you with disbelief, but he looked a bit relieved, it’s as if he wanted to say something. But he opted to hold his tongue and instead shifted his gaze forward as he walked beside the red-haired royal. “There is still that soldier imprisoned that displeased you.”

“Ah yes, the one that claimed to see those messy blonde locks but failed to capture our lost wanderer. Bring him to me in the throne room.” Just then he glanced at you as you walked a bit behind him, “My dear, you must be there with me. This should be quite the spectacle. I will see you in a moment.”

“A-As you say, Your Majesty…” You replied stiffly.

He frowned and stopped in his tracks before grabbing your collar and bringing your face closer to his. What you half expected was a sharp knife against your throat, something that would kill you, but there was no such thing. There was only his sharp gaze and disappointed tone. “You’re supposed to respond with: my dear. Not Your Majesty, not Rosehearts, but perhaps I’ll allow Riddle for now. Do you understand, dearest?”

So his name was Riddle. Judging by Riddle’s tone, he wasn’t angry, but rather irked that all the sweetness from earlier was now gone. Proceeding, you chose your words carefully as you attempted to smile as convincingly as possible, “Y-Yes, of course, anything you say, Riddle, my darling.”

At your words his cheeks became a pink hue before he let go of you and cleared his throat, quickly turning away and proceeding forward towards the end of the hall where he had whatever duties to fulfill. So you were left with Trey, his subordinate. The calm tall man’s shoulders sagged once the royal left, all the tension seemingly evaporating from his body. When he gave you a somewhat soft smile, your worries ceased for the moment as well. “I’m glad you’re still intact. I was certain you were a goner.” He was… nice? “You need to be more careful. I don’t know what you did to change Riddle’s mind, but he was ready to behead you himself. You know how he keeps that huge battle ax under his bed. He mentioned something about using that, and I thought he was going to use it to chop your head clean off.”

Oh god. That little guy was going to do that? That stupid kiss really did save your skin. “Heh, I’m still a little shaken…” Wait, you were supposed to be acting like the king! What did the king even act like? How were you supposed to know? He never even lived long enough to make it into the story! “I, um, am very appreciative towards your concern… Trey.”

Trey appeared a bit surprised but he then smiled once more at you. “We’ll talk more later. Right now, we have a situation on our hands.”

What kind of situation? You didn’t even have time to ask when Trey led you down the checkered hall to an opening behind velvet red curtains which were the entrance directly to the large elegant throne room. There, you saw another stranger talking animatedly to the less-than-pleased-looking Rosehearts. This stranger had orange hair that brushed against his lower neck, and he had much more enthusiasm than those you had encountered thus far.

“Dear, there you are.” Instantly Riddle visibly brightened up as he gestured to the soft smaller heart-shaped throne beside his much larger grand seat. “Come, sit, we’re currently discussing the important matters at hand. Such as the dilemma with our prisoner. Cater, continue.”

When this Cater, fellow’s, green eyes trailed over to you, they became filled with surprise as he fumbled over his words, “Huh–– O-Oh! Right!” Forcing his gaze back on the red-haired royal, he began explaining, “There’s nothing really new to talk about, Your Majesty! I mean, seriously, this rookie was just the unlucky one that happened to see that blondie Ellis. According to him when I went to question him, he just said that he saw the guy in blue and when he went to confront him, Ellis escaped with some purple beastman!”

“Purple beastman…?” For a mere moment he appeared perplexed, when quickly the dots began to connect in his mind as he gasped, “Chen’ya! Why, the nerve of that––!”

When you saw his face begin to heat up again and a look of anger crossed his face, you slowly placed your hand over his arm that rested on the armrest of the throne. Then, he froze, everyone else, Trey, Cater, the few servants, the many armored guards in the room, they all were wide-eyed at what you had done. You had touched the queen when they were about to enter a fit of rage! You messed up–– Shit––

Riddle released a slow breath before placing his other hand atop your own. You felt such a massive flood of relief knowing you made the right move when he appeared much calmer as he nodded his head toward you, “Thank you, my dear. We shall discuss a proper punishment for that wretched feline later. For now…” Instantly his voice did a one-eighty as he turned his head toward the two imposing doors and shouted, “Bring him!!”

Nervously you looked over at Trey who stood tall and upright by Riddle’s side, and he remained oddly focused on the door. And that orange-haired guy, Cater, where did he go…?

“Hey…!”

Your eyes flittered over to you right where Cater was bent over a bit to whisper in your ear, while everyone else was distracted by the prisoner being escorted inside.

“I’m so happy that you’ve alive…! Don’t go dying on me so quickly, ‘kay? You wouldn’t leave me all alone here, would you?”

“Uh… no, of course not.” Huh. This Cater guy seemed pretty close to the king, or now you actually.

When you averted your eyes to the front, you listened to the clacking of armor as you watched more soldiers bring forward one of their own. Yet unlike all the others masked by metal, this soldier in shackles didn’t have a helmet. His messy red hair stuck out every which way, which made you wonder how on earth he even managed to fit that mess of hair under a helmet at all. His eyes were glued to the floor, and he wore a stiff frown as his shackles rattled with every step he took until he was right before the steps leading up to the red royal. When he refused to kneel, he was pushed down to his knees as Riddle eyed him with disdain.

Riddle wasted no time, because as soon as this prisoner was on his knees, he began his tirade of questions. “Ace Trappola, was it? We know you saw Ellis. Do you know where he is?”

The soldier’s head lolled forward a bit, his warm-colored eyes stopping on you for a moment as you gazed back at him. In a way, this Ace reminded you of… well, you. In shackles, forced to kneel, in front of a higher authority that was obviously not particularly fond of you, and likely with a sentence that could only mean your doom ahead of you. In a way, you did feel for him after hearing the basis of why he was arrested.

All was silent, only his shackles could be heard again as he slowly shrugged and snapped back, “I’d like to know that too! I mean, I’m sure wherever he is, he’s free as a bird. Meanwhile, me? Locked up for trying to do my job––!”

“Failing to do your only job.” Riddle corrected with a scoff. “I will ask you one more time. Where. Is. Ellis?”

Ace, still annoyed, continued. He must’ve been either stupid or brave for continuing. Although it might’ve been both as he mocked him. “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I. Don’t. Know.”

Under your hand you felt Riddle’s fingers dig into the armrest, his knuckles growing white as he raised his voice an octave, “What if I take off your head? Will you know then?”

“If you took my head, you wouldn’t get any answers after that.” He retorted with a slight eye roll.

Underneath your hand you could feel Roseheart’s anger growing the tighter he dug his nails into the chair. When you saw his face, you and everyone else could tell that he was fit to burst, no doubt ready to seal this soldier’s doom. Instantly you shot up from your throne, wanting to help save this prisoner. However, you very quickly began to regret it when all eyes darted over to your form, and you now became the center of attention. You couldn’t just sit back down, so with no other choice, you awkwardly cleared your throat and proceeded nervously, “My dearest, earlier when in our chambers I had an… um… epiphany! A vision! Y-Yes, I had a vision…! Ellis will slay your–– our, pet dragon jabberwocky.”

Instantly Riddle’s eyes widened. “He killed our jabberwocky?!”

“No…! No, at least not yet!”

Technically you weren’t lying. The story goes that the Red Queen had a powerful dragon, the jabberwocky, which was the main reason why she could keep such a grip on the kingdom with no rebellion ever coming close to dethroning her. At least, that is until Alice comes along and slays the jabberwocky. If you could somehow get rid of Alice, or Ellis in this case, and stay in Riddle Roseheart’s good graces, you would have it made! It was practically certain that the court back home thought you would’ve been beheaded already and your head would float in that river of blood for eternity. Yet here you were, alive, and if things went smoothly, you could live out your life in splendor here. Yes, you’d have to deal with the red royal, but if you could just stay in his good graces at all times, you would have a wonderfully lavish life! At this point you were just speeding things up, Ellis’ intentions of slaying the jabberwocky probably weren’t supposed to be revealed until much later. But, it would make a perfect excuse now.

As all eyes remained on you, you recounted your fake tale, “It all makes sense now…! In… In my vision I saw… A red-haired knight, um, clashing swords with a blonde man in blue and white!” Well, that part was a lie. There never was a red-haired knight in the stories. But this was an opportunity to potentially save Ace as well, and give him a chance to redeem himself in Riddle’s eyes. When you turned to face Ace, he was gazing at you with furrowed eyebrows, but you proceeded anyway as you gave your attention to Riddle now. “Riddle, I think–– I mean, I b-believe that knight is this one here in front of us.”

“Him?” The royal exclaimed in disbelief, looking at the soldier with something akin to disgust. To which the said soldier stuck out his tongue before a stern glare from Trey and Cater made Ace close his mouth. Riddle blinked, quiet for a moment before gazing up at you, his expression softening as he flipped over his hand so it held yours. “Is that what you were doing in our chambers alone? You were studying texts and had a vision, to save me?”

“Y…Yes…?”

His big gray eyes became fixated on you, as his voice became soft when he replied, “I’ve misjudged you, my dear… I believed you were being unfaithful, but you were working hard for me. How wrong I was.” The way he looked at you could only be described as adoringly.

It made you nervous, but you could only awkwardly smile in return. In order to ensure your own life of comfort here, you had to be sure to ruin the plot of the story. This meant that Ellis, the protagonist, could not win no matter what. Although it pained you to do such a thing, knowing that the outcome would most likely mean death by beheading him and his allies, you were more afraid of death than you were of the hero. For this, you would have to make sure the antagonist, Riddle Rosehearts in the role of the Red Queen, obtained a happy ending instead of a bad ending where he himself would be banished after being defeated by Ellis.

Clearing your throat, you hesitantly listed off the sequence of events in the way you recalled them playing out, “In my vision I saw… a blonde boy in blue, a purple feline beastmen, and a hatter, among other allies. Ellis will… will attempt to infiltrate the palace, and gain your favor under a disguise, and steal the ancient sword that can slay our Jabberwocky.” As all eyes and ears remained on you, you hesitated once again, mentally apologizing for what you were about to do. Maybe in the end, you might be able to plead with your supposed spouse to spare them. But deep down, you knew it was unlikely for the ruthless tyrant to even consider the idea. “Your Majesty, my darling, i-if I may make a suggestion…?”

Riddle nodded as he listened attentively, “Go on.”

Thankfully you had moved your hands away from his, and had them folded in your lap so he couldn’t feel the way your fingers trembled with anxiety. “I would like to suggest we allow this knight before us to carry the sword, sheathed and hidden at all times. Let this be his redemption–– um, please, if you allow it, your Majesty.” Said knight gazed up in surprise. “It would be best to keep sir Ace in our sights. So might I ask that he and another capable knight become my guards?” Guards. Smart move, especially if things get hairy later. “I-I’d also like to suggest an increase in your personal escorts too… my dear. So… so you’ll be safe. And, no one else besides those in this room, will know of what we spoke of today––”

“That way, Ellis will come here all on his own, and if he searches for the sword it will not be there.” Riddle finished, to which you nodded. He caught on quickly. “That’s brilliant!” You nearly breathed a sigh of relief as the red royal turned to glance at his two subordinates, Trey and Cater, only to gesture to the former prisoner and demand of them, “Unbind him, Trey. How can he wield a sword if his hands are bound?”

Trey slowly stepped forward as Ace was allowed to stand, and he unlocked the shackles around the knight. Ace continued to peer up at you, suddenly flashing a grateful smile. To which you only caught a glimpse of before being distracted by the redhead on the throne.

“Cater!” Cater stood upright immediately and awaited orders from the royal. “Find a suitable knight to escort my partner! I expect only the strongest and most obedient of knights! Am I understood?”

“You got it, Your Majesty! I already have a few in mind.”

“Wonderful. I will be interviewing them myself, as well as hand-picking my own escorts.” Riddle stood from his throne, tossing out more commands and orders to be followed by his remaining subordinate and the guards that had escorted the former prisoner. “You lot, I want an increase on the perimeter and another search crew to hunt down that wretched boy Ellis! Trey, go and fetch the sword. As for you, Ace Trappola,” Turning to face the knight, he warned, “You have one more chance. Should you fail a second time, there will be no do-overs. Your head will roll and your family shall pay the price for your mistakes.”

For a mere moment, disbelief and anger flashed on Ace’s face. Just as he opened his mouth, you spoke up, “T-Thank you, Your Majesty…! You really are so… merciful.” Better to be a pawn in this game than to be dead.

Riddle turned his attention to you before smiling, such a true and proud smile as he declared, “I have you to thank for this, for saving my kingdom and protecting me. Once we have Ellis and his companions captured, we will have a morning execution for him, with front row seats to the show." As his eyes drifted back to the onlookers, he commanded, "All of you shall speak nothing of what transpired in this room.”

A chorus of Yes, Your Majesty echoed in the chamber. The royal nodded, content for now, sending you one last smile before turning on his heels and walking off to elsewhere with Cater in tow. Leaving you alone with Trey and Ace as all other attendants and soldiers exited the throne room to go fulfill their duties.

Just for a moment, you wanted to talk to Ace alone. There was something about Trey, something about the way he watched you so calmly but there was something in those yellow eyes behind those glasses. Something that made it seem like he knew your secret, like he knew you were not really the king. You weren’t sure if it was your paranoia getting to you and your mind was just playing tricks on you, but you wanted to distance yourself as far away from him as possible. As the former prisoner made his way towards you, you cleared your throat and spoke quietly, but loud enough for Trey to hear. “Can–– M-May I have a word with you, sir Ace…? In private.”

“Sure, I’m free now.” He half joked, giving a bit of a grin which didn’t do much to ease your worries.

Trey stood beside the empty throne, watching as you glanced over at him and made a gesture for him to carry on with the assigned duty of retrieving the legendary sword, as dictated by His Majesty. To which he did, after he carefully observed the way you scurried behind velvet curtains with the knight not too far behind.

When you were finally out of sight with Ace, you noticed his raised eyebrow. Noticing this and the way he tapped his foot, you hesitated, unsure where you were even going with this or what you should do now. “You… You look like you have something to say.”

“Why’d you save me?” He demanded, all that cheerfulness from before gone now as things took a serious turn. Looking you up and down, he crossed his arms and continued, “You could’ve had your cute little hubby chop off my head like all the others before me. So, say it. That’s the reason you wanted to talk alone, isn’t it?”

He got you. Were you that obvious? You’d definitely have to work on being more discreet… Looking around twice to make sure no one was listening in, you huddled with him in a corner by the stained glass windows as you whispered hurriedly, in a panic, “O-Okay, whew, you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but… I’m not really the king, or queen, or whatever role I’m supposed to play here! Well, I guess I am now? Uhhh… h-here! It’s like this: I was put on trial in my homeworld, and as punishment I was banished. When I woke up, I was in Roseheart’s bed and he started talking to me like I was an unfaithful partner! I didn’t understand it, until I realized that it was all exactly like a story I read as a child. My punishment was to become the king that dies by being beheaded by his own wife! I… I got out of that somehow, and now, well…”

Ace was looking at you as if you were crazy, as if you had grown an extra head or something. His arms were crossed and he continued to stare at you. Should you have done that? Could you trust him? Well, he did owe you his life. If things really came down to it, you could have him arrested again and beheaded. Play the victim, call guards, and make up some lie that he attacked you, but you really really didn’t want it to go like that… Finally, after a few seconds, he shook his head and gave a weak chuckle, as if he couldn’t even believe it. “Hold on, let me get this straight: You’re not royalty, but you’re a criminal from another world? Did you hit your head or something?”

You knew it. He wouldn’t believe you after all.

“I mean, they keep saying this Ellis loser came from another world too… So… Maybe your story doesn’t sound too crazy after all.” His scarlet eyes focused on the floor, as if considering something. “You really weren’t lying about knowing the future. And I thought you had gone mad or something! So I’m a hero in the story?”

You could only scratch your arm nervously, a bit regretful for having to crush his sudden burst of excitement. “Ahaha… not exactly? I made that part up…”

Disappointed at the revelation that he wasn’t some badass hero wielding a legendary sword, he scoffed, “Seriously? So why save me then?”

“Look…” You took a deep breath, hiding your fidgeting fingers in your palm as best as you could. “We were both supposed to die. At least my character was mentioned in the story, but you? Y-You weren’t even mentioned at all…! You were just a nameless faceless soldier, someone not even worth mentioning––”

Offended, he snapped back, “Faceless? Rude much!”

You quickly shushed him, internally freaking out at the prospect that you may have been overheard. But when nothing else and no one else stirred, you frowned and muttered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just really nervous… I guess what I’m trying to get at here is… why don’t we both help each other survive?”

“What?” Shaking his head in disbelief. First this person called him someone not even worth mentioning then they ask for his help? Seriously, what was with them?

“T-Think about it…! I’m the second most powerful person in the entire kingdom…! I know what will happen! Kinda…”

“Well, I do want to live just as badly as you do…” It appeared he was still on the fence. Leaning his weight against the wall, he demanded, “But what do you mean you kinda know what will happen? I thought you, for sure, know.”

“Um…” Twiddling your fingers, you hesitantly explained the dilemma, “I did mention we were both supposed to die… And while that part isn’t a lie and the whole you being the destined one to stop Ellis was a lie, the other thing I didn’t lie about was Ellis gathering with his allies to infiltrate the palace and acquire the sword to kill the Jabberwocky. That will actually happen. S-So, since I told everyone that––”

“Let me guess, you told it early?”

Freezing, you gazed up at him and murmured, “H-How did you…?”

He shrugged, “I would’ve done the same thing if I were in your position. That means a higher chance of survival, right? Assuming that the blonde is the good guy and our king Rosehearts is the bad guy of the story. And considering all that, now you have no idea how the story will be affected, right?”

“R-Right…” Wait, now it just looked like you were useless! Immediately interjecting, you added, “But I can still make predictions based on what I know, like how things were originally supposed to play out…!”

“And you are still technically a royal…” Ace placed a finger to his chin, probably thinking about possible outcomes, upsides, and downsides if he agreed to work together. Finally, when his gaze flittered back to you and you stood upright, he questioned, “What if things don’t go how we–– you plan?”

You actually considered this briefly. If everything came crumbling down and all plans failed, there was but one last option to avoid any punishment. “Find Ellis and the White Queen… or is it the White King? I-It doesn’t matter…! The point is, the White Royal is very kind and merciful. If I go to them and explain that I am not really the Red King’s consort, then they’ll spare me…! If you come too and bring the sword to slay the Jabberwocky, that will assure them of our good intentions!”

“Isn’t that just running away? I don’t want to do that. And come on, the Whites? Are you for real? I thought us Reds were bad, but those pristine prissy little killjoys are no fun.”

For a second you wanted to strangle him. What kind of idiot would risk certain death by staying here if everything goes south, instead of fleeing to a good place that would grant you sanctuary? “It’s exactly running away, that’s the point…! The point is to stay alive!”

The redhead tilted his head to the side, his disappointed and serious behavior disappearing as he grinned. “What if I became king?”

Now it was your turn to look at him as if he were the insane one. Was this knight actually the mad hatter that had been driven insane by mercury poisoning?

“I do owe you one for saving my neck back there. And I won’t lie, I’ve dreamed about being king one day. And you, you’re actually way more ruthless than you seem at first. I thought you were a scared little wimp that always cowers behind their little hubby husband.” He mocked. Ouch. He thought you were a wimp…? “But turns out, I was so wrong about you. Sounds like you’re willing to do whatever it takes to live another day. Even turn on your own husband!”

He was whisper yelling, and it was starting to make you anxious that someone would overhear. So you whisper yelled back at a lower volume, “S-Stop that…! You know the truth, he’s not really my husband…”

That smirk made you think that he was going to respond in a louder voice, but thankfully he wasn’t that stupid. Just stupid enough to plan to overthrow the bloody Red King and talk about it in his own palace. But maybe you were stupid too, for talking about such delicate matters in the palace halls. Ace took your hands and performed a mock bow. “No running away, you got it? I’ll take that tiny red punk’s crown and become king, then I’ll keep you as a royal beside me, it’s the least I can do after what you did. We’ll both not only survive, but thrive. What do you say, Your Majesty~?”

#yandere #ace trappola #trey clover #cater diamond #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland #yandere twst #twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst writing #work in progress #damnation twst au

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bats2102 · 9 months ago

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ACOWAR set up an Elain+Lucien Book

ACOWAR is Elucien coded. This book lays out all the major plot points, characters, and powers that will shape the relationship between Elain and Lucien. As I revisited ACOWAR, I couldn't help but notice a ton of textual evidence hinting at a final pairing between them.

For those who disagree that Lucien demonstrates any traits that correlate to a mating bond, I encourage you to actually look at Lucien’s behavior and actions through the ACOWAR novel. And if you are not interested in re-reading the novel, that’s okay I brought receipts.

This analysis will provide compelling evidence of the Elucien connection and illuminate how ACOWAR lays the groundwork for their future storyline. Below are the main areas that will be explored, each accompanied by corresponding headers.

Early Mate Behavior

Lucien’s introspection and selflessness

Primal mate behavior and the BOND BONDING

Parallels between their “souls” and characters

Lucien’s Devotion to Elain

The Internal conflict regarding bond

Future plot/story

And for good measure: Amren thinking Lucien is also Hot AF (ACOWAR edition)

Early Mate Behavior

Lucien demonstrates mate behavior early as page 10 in ACOWAR by showing concern and determination to find Elain, whom he believes is being kept by Rhysand. Feyre, however, counters Lucien's determination by dismissing the significance of the mating bond between him and Elain. She argues that the mating bond is merely a physical reaction and implies that Lucien's actions are driven by instinct rather than genuine emotional connection to Elain. Feyre tries to undermine the legitimacy of Lucien's feelings by suggesting that he's being controlled by the bond and doesn't truly know Elain.

In response, Lucien challenges Feyre's perspective by drawing a parallel to her own situation with Rhysand. Countering that if that were the case it would apply to her bond to Rhys as well. He questions whether her relationship with Rhysand a physical reaction is also just, implying that their bond might be more than Feyre is willing to acknowledge.

“Despite what Jurian implied regarding how my sisters will be treated by Rhysand, I had told him, despite what the Night Court is like, they won’t hurt Elain or Nesta like that—not yet. Rhysand has more creative ways to harm them. Lucien still seemed to doubt it (ACOWAR pp.10)”

Lucien breathed, “Where is he keeping her?” I knew who he meant. I shook my head. “I don’t know. Rhysand has a hundred places where they could be, but I doubt he’d use any of them to hide Elain, knowing that I’m aware of them.” “Tell me anyway. List all of them.” “You’ll die the moment you set foot in his territory.” “I survived well enough when I found you.” “You couldn’t see that he had me in thrall. You let him take me back.” Lie, lie, lie. But the hurt and guilt I expected weren’t there. Lucien slowly released his grip. “I need to find her.” “You don’t even know Elain. The mating bond is just a physical reaction overriding your good sense.” “Is that what it did to you and Rhys?” A quiet, dangerous question. But I made fear enter my eyes, let myself drag up memories of the Weaver, the Carver, the Middengard Wyrm so that old terror drenched my scent. “I don’t want to talk about that,” I said, my voice a rasping wobble. (ACOWAR pp. 12-13)

Lucien's strong commitment to Elain's safety, is not solely driven by their bond it is also powered by his past experiences and concerns about Rhys's reputation. Unable to confirm Elain's well-being, he fears she may be subjected to the Night Court's dark reputation, intensifying his urgency to locate her. We know as readers that elain is not being harmed in her stay in NC, however Lucien has only known NC to be a place of horror thus the inability to confirm Elain's safety leads Lucien to contemplate the possibility that the Night Court's notorious reputation is being imposed upon her, adding an extra layer of concern and urgency.

“She is my mate and in my enemy’s hands—” “I’ve made no secret from the start that Elain is safe and cared for.” “And I’m supposed to believe you.” “Yes,” I hissed. “You are. Because if I believed for one moment that my sisters were in danger, no High Lord or king would have kept me from going to save them.” He just shook his head, the candlelight dancing over his hair. “You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply for fear of what it might do to her?” I didn’t answer.

If you are going to re-read a portion of the novel, I implore you to read pages 145-150 (Kindle edition) of ACOWAR. This portion of the novel really provides a look at character dynamics, Lucien’s loyalty, themes of trust and betrayal, and foreshadows future conflicts. Lucien argues that he NEEDS TO SEE elain safe, and he was willing to stand up against his perceived enemy the NC to ensure that is achieved. From his perspective, he likely sees parallels between the Night Court's actions and Tamlin's treatment of Feyre. Rather than escalating tensions or reacting rashly to the complexities of the mating bond, Lucien opts for a measured response: "There is a longer story to be told, it seems (ACOWAR pp.146-147). This response defuses the immediate tension and allows for further discussion without further antagonizing Rhysand. Lucien's choice to stand down and patiently await the chance to see Elain underscores his unwavering commitment to her well-being and his understanding of the delicate circumstances at hand, showcasing his loyalty and depth of character.

Lucien’s introspection and selflessness

And you know what Lucien does next, he listens to Feyre’s story. He actively listens to her story, willing to acknowledge and understand her expirences while reflecting on his own role, he doesn’t dismiss her words or react indifferently:

“So, I told him. All of it—the story that perhaps would help him understand. And realize how truly safe Elain was—he now was (p.149)

“I hadn’t realized I was a villain in your narrative,” Lucien breathed. “You weren’t.” Not entirely. (P.150)”

This shows a level of introspection and self-awareness on Lucien's part, as he acknowledges the possibility that his actions may have been seen in a negative light by others. (Which I could argue almost all characters in the series do not reflect on the consequences of their actions and their effect on others. So pro self-reflective Lucien!)

When Lucien request Feyre to tell him about elain. He takes Feyre’s assessment of her sister in this passage “Elain would put on a hat and gloves and kneel in the dirt, weeding. She acted like a purebred lady in every regard but that (ACOWAR pp.13)” and runs with it. He LISTENED to Feyre’s description of elain so closely that he knew she would wear gloves when she gardened and considered in the next book (ACOSAF) that it would be a suitable gift to give her gloves, that is thoughtful, and I will not argue otherwise.

Furthermore, when this man is telling Feyre how he was SA during calanmai, rather than focusing on himself in regard to this traumatic expirences, he is worried of what elain will think of this situation. Lucien was SA and his thoughts were still centered to the care of elain.

But Lucien … “You took Ianthe into that cave on Calanmai?” He wouldn’t meet my gaze. “She insisted. Tamlin was … Things were bad, Feyre. I went in his stead, and I did my duty to the court. I went of my own free will. And we completed the Rite.” No wonder she’d backed off him. She’d gotten what she wanted. “Please don’t tell Elain,” he said. “When we—when we find her again,” he amended. (ACOWAR pp 33)

Primal mate behavior and the BOND BONDING (just evidence of their bond, for those who want to invalidate it)

“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him— “Relax,” Rhys said. “Azriel isn’t the ravishing type.” Lucien cut him a glare. (p.254)

“It felt … strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.” Lucien exposed his palms to her. “I’m sorry.” Elain only stared at him for a long moment. (pp.301)

“There’s a bond—it’s a real thread,” he said, more to himself than us. “And?” Mor asked. Lucien ran both hands through his long red hair. His skin was darker—a deep golden-brown, compared to the paleness of Eris’s coloring. “And I got to Elain’s end of it when she ran off.” “Did you sense anything?” “No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …” A blush stained his cheek. Whatever he’d felt, it wasn’t what we were looking for. Even if we had no idea what, precisely, that was. “We can try again—another day,” I offered. Lucien nodded but looked unconvinced. (p.302)

Being the one to trust elain’s visions and act upon them. Also, everyone else being concerned about their bond if something happened to him.

He only glanced at Elain, whose face was again a calm void while she traced a finger over the embroidery on the couch cushions. “Yes. Let me help in whatever way I can.” Even Nesta seemed relatively concerned. Not for him, no doubt, but the fact that if he were hurt, or killed … What would it do to Elain? The severing of the mating bond … I shut out the thought of what it’d do to me.

Lucien is the one to ask for a healer to see elain, he recognizes that elain went through trauma, LUCIEN WAS the one who verbally acknowledge elain went through trauma.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have a healer look her over. Externally and internally.” I was tired enough that I could barely summon the breath to ask, “Do you think the Cauldron made her insane?” “I think she went through something terrible,” Lucien countered carefully. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination.” (pp. 288-289)

And you know who thinks Elain’s mate will help her??? MADJA, Why? Because their souls connected

“Does she need further help?” Nesta said through her teeth. The ancient healer jerked her chin toward Lucien. “See what he can do. If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate.” “How.” The word was barely more than a barked command. I braced myself to warn Nesta to be polite, but Madja said to my sister, as if she were a small child, “The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.”

What if Lucien was a gift from the cauldron??

“But what if the Cauldron gave something to Elain?” Nesta’s face drained of color. “What?” Equally ashen, Lucien seemed inclined to echo Nesta’s hoarse question. (p.336)”.

Parallels between their souls and characters

Elain and Lucien’s characters parallel one another and complement each other so splendidly. Lucien being the son of the high lord of day, and elain character first appearing in ACOWAR in a “suite filled with sunlight” in a “chair before the sunniest window (p. 154).”

Elain is further associated with LIGHT and SUNSHINE, through the novel:

“Even wasted away by grief and despair, Elain’s beauty was remarkable. Hers was a face that could bring kings to their knees. And yet there was no joy in it. No light. No life. (p.246)”

The frustration. “What can I get you, Elain?” Only with Elain did she use that voice. But Elain shook her head once more. “Sunshine.” (p.302)

Well would you look at that, elain HERSELF thinks she needs sunshine.

They are both social beings who require light to feel alive:

“Weeks of cloistering Elain had done nothing to improve her state (p.248)”

They both have eyes that allow them to see things that are hidden to others:

“What makes you think you could find her?” Rhys asked. Not rudely, but—from a commander’s perspective. Sizing up the skills Lucien offered against the risks, the potential benefits. “This eye …” Lucien gestured to the metal contraption. “It can see things that others … can’t. Spells, glamours … Perhaps it can help” (p.339)

In the following passage Elain displays agency by taking control of the situation and proposing a plan of action to address a potential threat. She actively engages in decision-making and asserts her autonomy by insisting on speaking to the individual herself, despite objections from others. Similar to Lucien, who just left to find the individuals from elain’s visions and serves as an emissary and prioritizes the protection of his people. Elain steps forward with a plan to negotiate with a potential threat to ensure the safety of those seeking sanctuary.

Elain considered. “I can speak to him.” “No,” I said—at the same moment Nesta did. But Elain cut us off. “If—if you and … they”—a glance at Rhys, my friends—“come with me, your Fae scents might distract the dogs.” “You’re Fae, too,” Nesta reminded her. “Glamour me,” Elain said—to Rhys. “Make me look human. Just long enough to convince him to open his gates to those seeking sanctuary. Perhaps even let you set those wards around the estate.”

Elain also remembers that Lucien was the one to seek out the individual from her vision: “And even with the truth laid bare … none of us told him that Lucien had gone after her. Elain seemed to remember, though. Who was hunting for that missing queen.”

Both characters' aversion to violence highlights their compassionate and empathetic personalities, as well as their desire for peace and harmony. While they may find themselves involved in conflicts due to external circumstances, they both harbor a deep-seated discomfort with the inherent violence of such situations, reflecting their shared values of empathy, kindness, and a preference for peaceful resolutions. The repetition of this in the interaction where Elain reveals she only stabbed the enemy, not made the killing blow, underscores her aversion to violence and her reluctance to engage in battle, mirroring Lucien's own distaste for violence.

“Will—will many of these soldiers die?” I cringed, but Nesta said, “Yes.” I could almost see the unspoken words Nesta reined in. Your mate might die sooner than them, though” (p.485)

The sound as both armies collided … I didn’t have words for it. Elain covered her ears, cringing.

“Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.” A faint smile bloomed on Elain’s lips (p. 675)”

Devotion to Elain

This man is devastated by Elain's mental state. Since the bond is a profound connection between two souls, and based on the text, Elain currently doesn't know how to block the bond, it's crucial to consider that every emotion Elain experiences is could also be felt by Lucien. Given her current unwellness, imagine the agony of being told she's fine and safe, only to witness her as a mere "hollow" version of the person described to him, likely feeling every ounce of the despair she's currently enduring.

Lucien was standing in the doorway. And from the devastation on his face, I knew he’d heard every word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her. Elain had always been gentle and sweet—and I had considered it a different sort of strength. A better strength. To look at the of the world and choose, over and over, to love, to be kind. She had been always so full of light. (ACOWAR p. 156)

(Side note: elain being described as light again when at her best)

He saw her in this state than decided that he would be willing to subject himself to Rhysands control and the NC in order to be near her.

“This house is warded against winnowing, both from outside and within. There’s one way out—the stairs to the city. It, too, is warded—and guarded. Please don’t do anything stupid.” “So, am I a prisoner?” I could feel the response simmering in Rhys, but I shook my head. “No. But understand while you may be her mate, Elain is my sister. I’ll do what I must to protect her from further harm.” “I would never hurt her.” A bleak sort of honesty in his words. I simply nodded, loosening a breath, and met Rhysands stare in silent urging.

Lucien is acutely aware that Rhysand intends to exploit Elain's presence in the Night Court to manipulate him. And we know that this is indeed true as evident from Rhysand's own admission, "I trust in the fact that we currently have possession of the one thing he wants above all else (p. 195)," which underscores Rhyland’s strategic mindset. Recognizing Lucien's unwavering commitment to Elain's safety, Rhysand leverages this vulnerability to exert control over Lucien's actions. Moreover, Rhysand manipulates Feyre's perception of Lucien, exploiting her concerns and emphasizing his own ability to sway Lucien's decisions. This manipulation is evident in Rhysand's question to Feyre, "If he got Elain away, back to Spring or wherever … do you believe, deep down, that he wouldn’t sell what he knows? (p.195)." This inquiry serves to sow doubt and uncertainty, further solidifying his hold over Lucien and Feyre's perception of him.

Now from pages p.675-68 there are many important points between elain and Lucien but given how long this already is I will focus on a few. Following the battle, Lucien’s concerns regarding elain’s wellbeing are immediately demonstrated by ensuring her condition. Lucien acknowledges her contribution and shows understanding, indicating a supportive and encouraging dynamic between them. This is shown through Lucien acknowledging that elains visions were correct, the loss of her father, and her contribution to the killing of hyburn. During this elain invites Lucien to velaris (with encouragement of Feyre, she is still the one who said it), and are later seen in close proximity of one another. They are seen walking side by side or falling into step with each other, and there’s an unspoken understanding between them where they seem to intuitively know how to support each other without needing to verbalize their feelings. So, no I do not agree that they are ill suited or do not like being in each other presence, I believe it to be more complicated than that.

Internal conflict regarding bond

To be honest, I'm just going to ask you to read pages 248-254. If you can read this, look into Lucien's thoughts, and believe that Lucien does not demonstrate mate behaviour and that Azriel is the character who understands and has undying devotion to Elain, then you're missing important components illustrated of Lucien's feelings.

Lucien's concern for Elain is palpable as he observes her deteriorating mental and physical state. He feels her pain and suffering deeply, evidenced by his internal turmoil and desire to alleviate her suffering. Despite the risk of facing Rhysand's wrath, Lucien ventures out to seek a moment of respite, yet his primary focus remains on Elain's well-being. In the context of Lucien's guilt regarding Elain and his past relationship with Jesminda, there's a significant emotional burden that he carries. Lucien's guilt could be manifesting in his interactions with Elain, leading to moments of hesitation or emotional distance as he grapples with conflicting emotions. He may struggle with feelings of inadequacy or unworthiness, believing that he's not deserving of a mating bond with elain due to his unresolved feelings regarding Jesminda death, for which he holds himself responsible. Lucien's guilt regarding his mating bond with Elain and his past relationship with Jesminda adds layers of complexity to his character and relationships.

The highlighted passages below offer a crucial moment in the narrative, revealing the complex dynamics between Lucien and Elain and hinting at future storylines. His unwavering belief in Elain's abilities and the importance of her visions is evident as he volunteers to pursue the truth behind her latest revelation.

As they are left alone together, the potential for significant developments in their relationship becomes apparent, as the deliberate departure of the other characters to create a space for Lucien and Elain to engage in a private conversation, the contents of which remain unknown. The deliberate departure of other characters creates a private space for Lucien and Elain, foreshadowing what could happen if provided the space to properly explore their mating bond.

Before departing, Lucien shares a silent exchange with Elain, their gazes locking in a moment with Lucien’s filled with unspoken longing and sadness. Despite the palpable connection between them, neither Lucien nor Elain vocalizes their emotions, leaving the true nature of their bond ambiguous. Lucien's failure to glance back at Elain and Rhys's departure symbolize the unspoken barriers and uncertainties surrounding their relationship. This poignant moment highlights the intricate dance of emotions between Lucien and Elain, setting the stage for deeper exploration in future narratives.

“There is a reason why Elain is seeing these things. She was right about the other queen turning old, about the Ravens’ attack—why is she being sent this image? Why is she hearing this queen? It must be vital. If we ignore it, perhaps we’ll deserve to fail.” Silence. I surveyed them all. Vital. Each of them was vital here. But me … I sucked in a breath. “I’ll go.” Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke. We all looked at him. Lucien shifted his focus to Rhys, to me. “I’ll go,” he repeated, rising to his feet. “To find this sixth queen.”

“And for once, my sister rose to her feet and came toward us, the three of us not so subtly heading upstairs. Leaving Lucien and Elain alone. It was an effort not to linger atop the landing, to listen to what was said. If anything was said at all.

Before that dark wind swept in, Lucien looked back. Not to me, I realized—to someone behind me. Pale and thin, Elain stood atop the stairs. Their gazes locked and held. But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward. Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.”

“And when Lucien turned to signal to Rhys to go … He did not glance back at Elain. Did not see the half step she took toward the stairs—as if she’d speak to him. Stop him. Then Rhys was gone, and Lucien with him. When I turned to offer Elain breakfast, she’d already walked away.” (p.345)

Elain's conversation with her fiancé Greyson reveals the complications of her feelings regarding Lucien and the mating bond. Initially, Elain expresses uncertainty and confusion about her desires, admitting that she doesn't know what she wanted when she returned to Greyson. This passage with her literal fiancé illustrates her internal conflict (There is no evidence that elain wants to reject Lucien in the text of ACOWAR). Greyson's refusal to accept Elain's bond with Lucien further exacerbates her emotional turmoil, as she struggles to reconcile her mating bond with her desire for a conventional human male.

Elain’s internal struggle to assert her agency and autonomy in the face of external expectations and societal norms will be important in her character development. Elain's initial denial and resistance pave the way for a journey of self-discovery and growth, where she must confront her fears and insecurities before embracing her true identity and forging a deeper connection with Lucien.

Graysen swallowed. “Did you think you could come back here—live with me as this … lie?” “No. Yes. I—I don’t know what I wanted—” “And you are bound to some … Fae male. A High Lord’s son.” A different High Lord’s heir, likely, I wanted to say. “His name is Lucien.” I wasn’t certain if I’d ever heard his name from her lips. “I don’t care what his name is.” The first sharp words from Graysen. “You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?” “It means nothing,” Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—” “You belong to him.” “I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.” Graysen’s face hardened. “I don’t want it.” (pp. 499-500)

The following moment marks a significant turning point in Elain's life as she realizes that her connection with Lucien has severed her ties to her previous human existence. Foreshadow the complexities and conflicts that may arise in Elain and Lucien's relationship, as well as the internal struggles Elain will face in reconciling her human past with her fae future.

“So, Elain silently cried, the tears so unending that I wondered if it was some sign of her heart bleeding out. Some sliver of hope that had shattered today. That Graysen would still love her, still marry her—and that love would trump even a mating bond. A final tether had been snapped—to her life in the human lands. Only our father, wherever he was, remained as any sort of connection.” (p. 503).

Future plot:

Anyways ACOWAR set up elain and Lucien’s future plot lines. Through introducing koschei, elain’s vision, vassas curse (Lucien=spell cleaver, elain=discovered vassa), Tamlin and spring court (after all elain does think the WORLD needs more garden (p.693)) Eris and Lucien’s dynamic, discovering Helion is Lucien’s father, elain mourning her father (Lucien and him knew each other), elain and Lucien discovering their magic (their eyes) ... ect...

And if you want to argue that Azriel has any major role in these plot lines I encourage you to read ACOSF and HOFAS as there is ample evidence that the characters and plots introduced in those novels are more centre to his and Gwyn’s character (I can bring more receipts... as essentially ACOWAR set up nessian and Elucien, and ACOSF set up gwynriel and Mor+em). It is crucial to analyze the plot lines beyond the lens of mere smut and romance, as this narrow focus undermines the depth of storytelling Sarah J. Maas has woven into the narrative. By broadening our perspective, we can fully appreciate the intricacies of the plot and explore the multifaceted dynamics that extend beyond the relationship between the MMC+MFC.

And finally, while I can acknowledge that all these points are directed to an elain and Elucien book. SJM will still and will always have the final say....

Amren thinking Lucien being Hot AF (ACOWAR edition)

Even fucking Amren thinks Lucien is hot af.

But it was Amren who said from the floor, “You should kill Beron and his sons and set up the handsome one as High Lord of Autumn, self-imposed exile, or no. It will make life easier.” “I’ll take that into consideration,” Rhys said, striding toward her while I remained with the others. (p.159)

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