#i knew chapter three was going to be long but lord give me strength | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cassiefromhell · 9 months

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Unexpected (pt. 5)

Part One Part Four Part Six

Fanbase: acotar

Eris x Reader x Azriel

Summary: You've healed nicely from your nasty encounter with your least favorite bitchy creature, but what now? You've missed your own mating ceremony... where do you go from here?

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut! fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (and mention of a lot of it!) dirty talk

A/N: Requests are OPEN! Check my pinned message for details on what I'll write <3. Thank you so, so much for the notes on this lil series! I read all comments and reblogs. The poll I had last week ended up juuuust barely going in favor of longer chapters on Unexpected, so that's what further updates will mainly be.

It only took three more days for me to gain the strength to go back to our room, and I took that opportunity immediately.

Azriel was in and out of the medical room, visiting as much as he could.

I won’t lie and say it wasn’t awkward at times, when Eris was there. But Azriel was good at finding the fleeting moments when Eris was in a meeting, or (heaven forbid!) on a short trip to another court. My first mate was never gone for more than an hour or two, but Azriel seemed to slide in each moment that the High Lord was gone.

I liked having company. Eris focused more on making sure I was comfortable, having me walk around — with his arm for balance, of course — and keeping my pillows properly fluffed, blankets perfectly tucked. He brought me books and town newspapers, and told me jokes and funny things about his day.

Azriel was far more reserved, but still he came. He brought me more things than I could think possible in three short days. More books, which made me wonder if his shadows had seen Eris bring me those and he followed after (he also mentioned some odd thing about a house recommending books?) He brought me food, and asked what I liked, and then brought me croissants and macarons every day forward. He gifted me a few boxes of Night Court attire — flowing dresses and jumpsuits of deep violet and navy blue.

But the thing I loved most?

He brought me a blueprint. Of a knife.

A blacksmith’s plan for a knife that Azriel had commissioned for me, the matching sister of Truth Teller.

I had nearly cried when I saw the beauty of just the sketch.

But now, I’m sitting in bed, curled up with a book. This is my second day back in the room, and I’ve finally convinced Eris to resume his normal daily schedule.

Which leaves me here alone. But I don’t particularly mind. I’m happy to have some time with just me and a romance novel.

At least, alone for a few hours.

Because footsteps are coming down the hall, and with a glance at the clock, I discover that it’s Eris’s lunch hour.

Of course he’s coming to eat with me.

I grin, putting my book to the side. I adjust the pillows around me, making room for my mate. I do sometimes find myself missing him, his red hair and sarcasm and the little nicknames he has for me.

The door swings open by force of magic, and my lover is quickly in the doorway. I’m taken aback by what he has in his hands: a massive tray filled to the brim with food. Sandwiches, salads, pastries and soups and desserts.

I squeal, opening my arms for him. Eris places the tray on my lap and crawls into bed beside me, showering my neck and face with kisses.

“See? I knew you’d love this. The way to your heart is food.”

I laugh, catching his face in my hands and giving him a long kiss. “You know me better than anyone, High Lord.”

“Ohh, don’t go High Lord-ing me, missy,” he shoves a finger sandwich in my mouth. “You have me in the palm of your hand and you know it.”

Giggling, I chew and swallow my sandwich, leaning against him. He wraps an arm around me, half of the time feeding himself and the other hand feeding me with both food and kisses and little sweet whisperings against my ear.

And I’m happy here.

I eat my macaron — which, of course he brought me those — with a smile, until my eyes catch on a certain sandwich that I know is Eris’s favorite.

“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, eyes trained on my suddenly downcast expression.

“I’m thinking,” I whisper, taking that sandwich and holding it between my fingers.

He tenses. “…Shit. You hate it. What did I do wrong? Here, let me—” he moves to take away the tray, but I stop him with a hand on his wrist.

“Hold on. Let me consider.”

I stare at that little finger sandwich intently. It’s Eris’s very favorite, and I’m sitting next to this man who I love so much and who is my mate and I still have not officially accepted as such.

So I turn to face him, pulling my legs in and getting up on my knees. Once I do that, he’s at eye level, and I can really see the concern glimmering in his gaze.

I stroke his cheek, and then begin to murmur the Autumn Court vows. “Eris Vanserra, prince of fire and High Lord of the leaves…”

Eris’s eyes widen, and he looks down to the sandwich in my hands. His jaw falls, and his lips are parted, leaving him with an utterly flabbergasted expression. “But— but you wanted the whole—”

I cover his mouth gently. “Yes, I wanted the whole disgustingly lavish ceremony. But I think the gods have said that’s a bad idea. Now let me do the whole vows thing,” I command, and he nods eagerly. “Eris Vanserra, prince of fire and High Lord of the leaves, you have taken my heart in your grasp and I trust you with it. You are the other half of my soul, and I am prepared to give you all of mine. I accept you as my mate.”

I hold out the sandwich, lowering my hand from his mouth. Eris takes the food with a shaking hand. He chews his bottom lip, tilting his hair forward, and little strands of red hair fall across his forehead.

“…Are you sure…?” he asks, his voice hardly a whisper. “I don’t… want you to regret this.”

I offer a soft smile, sinking back to sit on my heels. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

His eyes glisten, and he nods, flipping the sandwich in his fingers. “I don’t remember my part of the vows, as embarrassing as it is..”

Laughing, I nudge his hand. “That’s alright. The eating is the important part.”

He takes a bite, and then another, and then he’s scarfing it down.

“Slow down. You’ll choke.”

“You can’t blame me for being speedy, I want to be choking on your cunt.”

I flush, but lean forward anyway, kissing his throat as he eats.

The bond begins to solidify, shifting from a fraying thread into a sturdy rope, golden and shimmering and lovely.

Eris finishes his sandwich, and with a snap of his fingers, the tray is teleported across the room. He sweeps me into his arms, laying me down onto the blankets and pillows.

“How are you feeling today, love?” he murmurs, pausing before doing anything serious.

“Oh, fuck me already, Eris.”

He just gives a low chuckle in response, kissing me. Our tongues and teeth clash, dancing around each other. His hands make quick work of my dress, sliding it up and off of me.

Okay, he’s a little needy.

“Aw, poor Eris had to go a week and a half without me?” I tease, reaching up to run my hands through his hair.

He growls as a reply, mouth dipping down… and then down some more. He kisses down my throat, unclasping my bra with deft fingers and sliding it off. His tongue makes circles over my breasts, and then again, never quite hitting the nipple.

“Eris,” I whine, and that’s all it takes.

Eris kisses each of my nipples, gently biting the raised buds. My whimpers seem to egg him on, and he’s quickly sliding a hand down my body, pulling off my panties.

“Eri—”

His full name doesn’t even get the chance to escape my mouth, because it’s cut off by a long moan. His thumb has found my clit, and is gently, teasingly, circling it.

A moment later, and his head is down there too, his tongue licking a stripe along my folds.

I nearly cry.

Eris has never been one for long teasery — well, he tries, but he always gives in with a glance at my face. He’s certainly too eager for even trying to hold out on me now, having been abstinent for longer than either of our likings.

His tongue laps at me, hands pushing my knees apart. I throw the covers off of us so that I can see him, see his red hair tied back at the base of his neck, see his mouth feasting on me like a man starved, and— his eyes. He’s looking up at me, relentlessly, and he doesn’t break his gaze as a finger enters me.

I whimper softly at the sensation, my back arching up, off of the mattress. The waves of pleasure creeping up my spine are intense, amplified by the amount of time it’s been since I’ve climaxed, found that incredible cliff that I am now approaching.

“You’re sensitive today,” he murmurs, voice rumbling against me. “I can feel it.”

He adds a second finger, and I nearly come just from his soft growl.

But just as I find myself on the edge, whining and gripping his hair, biting the pillow, he completely stops, sliding up my body.

“Shit,” I moan softly, having a terrible feeling that he’s going to edge me. For a long time.

But instead, he gives me a long kiss, letting me taste myself on his tongue. And in the middle of it all, his fingers start to move again, his thumb circling my clit once more.

He pulls away, just enough to speak against my mouth. “Fuck, sweetheart. Look at how well you’re doing, all pent up like this.”

Then his thumb centers on my clit, rubbing it with soft strokes, and it sends me plummeting over the edge. Stars form behind my eyelids, unintelligible whimpers spilling from my lips, and Eris coaxes me through it all, stimulating my oversensitive nerves and giving me praise.

When I’m calmed from my high, gazing up at him with a lazy smile, I whisper. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“And you are gorgeous. I could not ask the Mother for a better mate,” he purred, shifting to kiss me once more.

He presses his clothed hips to my bare ones, showing me exactly how much he wants me.

I laugh against his mouth, my hands trailing down. “Why is it,” I murmur into his lips, “that I’m naked and you’re still fully clothed.”

“It’s because you never undressed me.”

“Aye, don’t point fingers.”

We both laugh, and I have my hand on the first button of his shirt when a sharp, piercing tug comes on the mating bond.

I flinch.

Eris frowns, tilting his head and brushing a kiss to my cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Sighing heavily, I zero in on the mating bond connecting me to Azriel. “Give me just a second. Shadow Boy is tugging.”

Are you alright? I ask the thread.

Physically, yes. Why wouldn’t I be. His response is flat, and is more of a statement where a question should be instead.

You tugged. Hard. It kind of hurt.

You know I can feel all of your emotions, right? You have no mental shields up.

Okay, so? But my response is a little distracted, because Eris has sat up, straddling my thighs. He unbuttons his shirt, slowly, teasingly.

My breath catches in my throat when he flexed his hips upward, showing off the bulge in his pants. I palm it gently as Azriel’s response comes.

I’d rather not know what you’re feeling.

It takes me a moment, and then I remember the arousal and pleasure that has been flooding my mind for the last few minutes, and it clicks.

I laugh, running a finger down the seam of Eris’s pants. “He can sense my emotions and feelings. He’s asking for me to stop subjecting him to my sex life.”

Jealous? I ask down the bond, grinning as Eris hurries his undressing. Unfortunately, he was in a council meeting earlier, so he’s sporting a uniform with a bajillion clasps and buttons and buckles.

No reply comes.

Are you a little, tiny bit envious of Eris right now? Because he gets to fuck the shit out of me.

And preparing to fuck the shit out of me he is, as Eris is hovering over me now, mostly undressed. He frees himself, pulling out his long, thick cock. I like the little curve it has, and I trace the vein on the underside with my index finger.

Maybe you should stop teasing me, or I’ll show up and put your fun to an end.

Alright, alright. Shutting up. I’ll try to keep my emotions to myself.

The bond goes silent.

“He’s gone,” I whisper.

Immediately, Eris is positioning himself between my legs, capturing me in a kiss once more. His thumb grazes my clit, and I feel the telltale pressure against my entrance.

Instinctually, I spread my legs. I whimper as he pushes in, just slightly, stretching me wide. It hurts, just a bit — I thought I would be used to him by now, but I guess not after a week without this, without him.

“Fuck,” he whispers, trailing kisses down my neck. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He sinks in further, and I find my hands rooted in his hair, holding his head close. I leave breathy kisses against his ear and throat, murmuring strings of praises. “Gods, you feel good… mother save me… start moving, I need you.”

He pulls his hips back slowly, hissing as my body grips him. Then, he snaps back in, just barely managing to brush that one spot deep in me.

My back arcs, and a whimper escapes me as his free hand grabs both of mine, pinning them above my head — his other still teasing my clit.

He begins a steady pace, until the lingering pain at my core subsides, and is replaced with more slick, and need, and burning pleasure.

“Fuck,” I whisper, lifting my hips to add to the friction. “Harder— harder, please…”

A grin spreads across my High Lord’s face, and he kisses my shoulder, picking up into a brutal pace, the sounds of skin on skin filling the room.

The pleasure is immense. Each time his thumb brushes my clit, or his cock hits that one spot, I see stars. My abdomen begins to tense, and my noises become more frequent.

Eris shifts to have his head directly above me, watching my expression closely. The eye contact alone pushes me that much closer to the edge, and fast.

“Coming already?” He croons, putting our foreheads together. “Needy, needy little creature, aren’t you?”

I nod against him, our noses brushing. “Please.”

And he silently obliges me (as silent as he gets during sex, still panting and making little pleased noises) by pressing the heel of his hand against my clit.

The result is instant. Stars bloom and explode behind my eyelids, and I chant his name like a prayer, whimpering and moaning and whining as his pace stays relentless, coaxing me through my crashing orgasm.

His pace does not grow sloppier; he’s never gotten sloppy before he cums, if anything he just gets more rigid, pace growing faster and harder but never sloppy. He tilts his head down to rest on my shoulder, groaning as his cock twitches inside me. “Such a good girl for me, hmm?”

I squeeze his hand with one of mine, grinning when his words come out breathless. “Give it to me. Fill me.”

And he does, nearly immediately. He gives one last snapping thrust into me, burying himself deep inside. I can tell he’s cumming by the moans and unintelligible mumbles leaking from his throat, combined with the slight increase in warmth at my pelvis.

“What a good mate you are,” I purr, working one hand out of his grip to stroke his hair. “Filling me up with your seed. Such a good boy—”

Eris shuts me up with a long kiss, and he remains buried in me, carefully pulling me onto his lap as he sits up.

Pulling away slowly, he speaks softly. “I need to cancel my meetings for the next few days — at least. You know what they say about the whole newly-mated male thing, so the council hopefully won’t fight too much. I’m sure they’d rather have my absence than a volatile male.”

“Youuu can do that later,” I grumble, catching his bottom lip between my teeth. That fiery need is building between my legs once more, creeping up my spine and peaking my nipples. “Fuck now. Lord business later.”

He has no qualms — at least, he speaks none — about my decision, and he captures my mouth in his. His hands slide up, one to my jaw, the other to my hair, locking me into the kiss. As he does, I catch the slight scent of magic in my nose, and I crack an eye open to see a letter writing itself on the desk. I can’t read it from here, but it’s short, and slid under the door in a blur.

He pulls back, smirking as he takes me in. “I’ve hardly touched you and you’re all flushed and messy.”

“Hardly— hardly touched?” I ask, incredulous. “You’re buried in me, to the hilt.”

His smirk breaks into a toothy grin, flashing me his canines. “Yes, and I’ve done much worse. Now, tell me, where would you next like to be made a mess?”

I’ve decided to both thank and curse the mother for the mating frenzy.

For the last three days, Eris and I have been relentless. It’s pathetic, really, the way we can’t even manage a good night’s sleep. By the time we’re able to fuck eachother senseless enough to slip into sleep, one of us wakes up with that fiery need again after no more than an hour.

Mercifully, the staff in the palace understands. They bring us food and leave it outside the door, and other than that they leave us alone.

Even now, as I sit in the bath with Eris, the soreness in all of my limbs lingers. I sigh softly, nestling myself safely in Eris’s arms as the warm water seeps into my tired bones.

“We should probably get some actual cleaning done, before it comes back,” he murmurs, running his fingers through my damp hair. “We made a deal to get in the bath and cleanse ourselves, and instead we’ve just fucked. Twice.”

I giggle, pressing my face to the center of his chest. “Yeah, well… it was fun.”

“That it was,” he hums, removing one arm from me. He starts to run soap over my body, and I’m content to let him do that while I lay here limp. “You’re so beautiful, love.”

I bite his shoulder gently, to which he replies with a smack to my ass under the water. Laughing, I pull his face down, peppering it with kisses.

“You are not helpful,” he growls, taking my shoulders and turning me around. “Hold still and let me do your hair.”

I shift myself to turn and face him once more, but go still when his fingers start working shampoo into my hair. I practically purr at the massage, melting into his touch.

This,

This is bliss.

It takes two more days for the frenzy to slow, and Eris and I come to the decision that we can go without each other for a few hours.

So, I sit in the center of the music hall, which is completely empty each day until two, when the musicians come to practice. It’s nearly noon now, and I’m just out of the room to get away from the overwhelming scent of sex, and to get a little practice in.

The harp that leans on my shoulder is playing a song that I wrote on my own. I hum along with it as my fingers pluck the long strings, leaning into the deep vibrations.

I’ve played the harp since I was young. I was allowed to learn one instrument as a child, and little, tiny, adolescent me chose the harp. Looking back on it, perhaps a piano or guitar would have been more practical, but the time for choosing an instrument to learn has long since passed.

The music glides from my hands like an ice skater on a frozen lake, making graceful circles and figure eights, going fast and then so, so very slow.

My alone time is broken around an hour into my practice. The shadows contort in the room, and then there’s an undeniable presence behind me. I don’t even need to look to know who he is.

“Congratulations,” Azriel says, followed by the soft shuffle of wings being adjusted. “On your mating.”

“Thank you,” I reply, finally halting my music to glance over at him. “I hope you aren’t too bothered by it.”

He gives a noncommittal shrug, walking over and standing beside me. His arms cross over his chest as he speaks, “It was expected. You’ve known Eris for far longer than me. I didn’t know you played the harp.”

Smooth topic change.

“I can’t remember a time when I didn’t.”

“You would love the musician’s quarter, in Velaris. It’s always filled with the most magnificent sound. I could show you, if you come to visit.”

I turn back to the strings in front of me, running my thumb along the golden shoulder of the instrument. “I’ve already told you that I would visit at some point. Have you come here to remind me?”

Azriel shifts on his feet slightly — and something tells me that he isn’t typically one for nervous habits, so maybe I make him exceptionally anxious. “Not really.”

“Then why, exactly, are you here?”

“Do I need a reason?”

I raise a brow, plucking a few strings absentmindedly. “When Eris is in full mated-male protective mode?” Azriel tenses. “Perhaps you should have an excuse for being in his palace.”

“Then I’m here because I was bringing you this,” he replies, holding out a velvet box.

Turning to face him, I take the box gingerly. Pulling the cover up reveals something exquisite, and I snap it shut.

“I… I cannot accept this,” I stumble over my words, blinking as he opens the box again. “It’s too— holy mother.”

He chuckles, shaking his head and carefully picking up the necklace. It’s a double layered chain; the shorter, closer to my neck layer is thin and a shimmering silver unlike anything I’ve laid eyes on before, and topped off with a delicate dagger pendant, encrusted in a blue stone like his siphons; the longer layer is a sharp gold, glittering in the sunlight and almost giving the appearance of being on fire, and hanging from it is a leaf with — well, I don’t know if my eyes are playing tricks on me, but it seems to have a little orb inside holding actual fire.

“I’ve had it custom made for you. It would be horrible manners to not accept it.”

I feel blood brush the skin on the back of my neck, and then dance across my ears. “Then, uhm, I suppose I’ll have to take it, hm?” I take it from his grasp, holding it to my neck. “Help me clasp it, since you’re intent on me having it.”

Azriel steps behind me, his calloused fingers brushing my nape as he clips the chains together. His hand linger possibly a little longer than is necessary, but I didn’t complain.

To think of it, I’ve never actually gotten a particularly good view of his hands. They were often hidden in the fabric of his clothing, or gloved, or moving too fast to be seen. I’ve always liked hands — are they scarred, or smooth? Long or short nails? Wrinkled, or baby-skinned?

But as I reach for his hands to bring them forward, they suddenly retract. In fact, turning around reveals that Azriel has taken three steps back.

“What’s wrong?” I frown, eyes flicking to his arms, which have expertly, subtly, hidden his wrists behind his back.

“Nothing,” he replies in a smooth, reassuring tone, “you look stunning. I had a feeling that the necklace would glow on you.”

“It disappoints me that you think you can evade my questioning. I’m your mate, you don’t need to hide anything from me.”

A ghost of a smile crosses his lips.

“What?” I scowl, standing and striding over to him.

He continues to retreat backwards, until I know for certain that this has somehow become some sort of a game for him by the growing amusement on his features.

And I have the feeling that he’s competitive.

I feign a stop, and then lunge at him, angling myself to send him sprawling to the ground. I’ve slipped into my assassin skill set.

But Azriel has tricks up his own sleeve, because the sidesteps and twists his leg, aiming to knock me over. His maneuver fails, and before I know it, we’ve essentially engaged in combat.

Except he refuses to use his hands.

We twist and spin, dancing across the music hall. None of my attempts to grab him work, but he’s also unsuccessful in taking me down without his hands. I’m sure his shadows could help, but he’s not using them — and I have the feeling that he’s trying to be gentle with me.

“Are you going easy on me?” I accuse, my hand snapping out and finally making contact, managing to grab his bicep… but his hand stays firmly behind his back.

“Perhaps. But I have a distinct advantage — height, wings, and shadows.”

“Yeah, well, I have fire and I’d just rather not burn you.”

And there it is — he flinches.

But he recovers quickly, and I’m too busy processing his flinch to dodge when his wing comes at me. The muscle under its velvet skin swivels me around with ease, and suddenly my hands are pinned behind my shoulder blades, by Azriel’s own hand.

I find myself unable to turn around. Why? Because my back is pressed completely up against Azriel’s chest, his head dipped down to be on the same level as my own. My hands and his are trapped between us, guaranteeing that I won’t be able to catch a glimpse.

“I win,” he murmurs, his lips against my ear.

“That you did. But you flinched,” I murmur back, turning my head just enough to be able to see his face. It’s completely neutral again, if not a little amused. No hint of the flinching boy that had flashed in front of me.

“You mentioned having fire, and I realized that if I let our little match go on for much longer, you might get a little too hot for comfort,” he replies, maybe too slowly.

His tone is so believable that I nearly let it go. But as he speaks, the darkness pooled at our feet recoils from him, tendrils of it wrapping up my ankles and stroking my skin.

“Your shadows don’t like it when you lie to me,” I tilt my head to the void building on my legs.

Azriel narrows his eyes but says nothing; the shadows scatter.

Softening my tone, I tilt my head back against his shoulder and try again. “Why can’t I see your hands, Azriel?”

He sighs the heaviest sigh imaginable, nearly breaking my heart in the process. But he releases my hands, and waits.

I don’t step away, gazing up at him expectantly.

We end up just staring at each other for a few moments. His eyes tell a story that I know will hurt to hear when it is vocalized. But I want to know his tales. I find myself a bit infatuated with this other mate — who is Azriel Shadowsinger?

But nevertheless, there’s a shifting behind me as his hands move, and he brings them to be in front of me.

I have to stifle a gasp at the sight.

Azriel’s hands are covered in burn scars. Not an inch of the skin spanning his fingertips to his forearm is untouched. The skin is raised and rigid, and parts of it are a darkened brown or red.

Biting my lip, I carefully run a fingertip over one of the ridges. The skin is surprisingly smooth itself, just with raised bumps and dips along the surface. His abdomen tenses against my lower back as I touch his hand, but he doesn’t object.

“I don’t think they’re ugly, if that’s what you were afraid of,” I murmur, taking one of his hands in mine and continuing to trace along the other. “I’ve always liked hands. They’re the most useful parts of the body, for the most part — capable of so many things. And the marks just tell stories.” I flip my own hand over, showing the scars littering my palms. “My hands weave the tale of an assassin, an expert at her craft. Yours tell the story of a warrior with a backstory worth sharing to loved ones. And that history needn’t be retold today.”

Then, completely unexpectedly, he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of my neck.

“Thank you,” he whispered with lips brushing my skin.

We stand there for a few seconds or moments or minutes, I cannot tell. But I’ve grown to like the feeling of his mouth on my neck, his hands almost feeling familiar under my touch.

“While we’re asking questions,” I start, shifting myself forward slightly. “You smiled earlier, just before this whole spontaneous sparring spree began. Why?”

Suddenly, he grips both of my wrists, pinning them between us like he had before. He grins, picking up that competitive gleam in his gaze once more. “Just because.”

“Because why,” I scowl, now trying to shimmy out of his grip.

“You’re a moody one, you know.”

“Me, moody? You look like you’ve just stepped out of a portal to a gothic land of spiders and shadows — Cauldron, you have shadows that follow you,” I feign outrage, which makes him chuckle darkly.

“I smiled because you called me your mate. Out loud and to my face.”

I pause, and then try to whirl, grinning now. “Let me go, and maybe I’ll do it again.”

“You’ll have to win your way out of my grasp. And may I mention, you pack some solid muscle for how small you are—“

“Small?” I shout, trying to elbow him — but he keeps his hold on me. I struggle, while he laughs, and I find a part of myself quite amused as well — and the other part of me, well, I too am competitive.

There’s a creak from the other side of the room that I barely register, but Azriel’s shadows spin like crazy, swirling at our feet like a warning bell.

But Azriel just holds me tighter, ignoring the shadows. I land a kick to his shin that makes him lose his balance — but he drags me when we stumble, growling as I try to break free, and—

And, of course, that is when the door swings open—

Eris Vanserra stares at us, with eyes that start with shock.

And then shift to indescribable rage.

Part Six

Tags: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @5moremin @azriels-mate123 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @nightless @the-sweet-psycho @mali22 @bubybubsters @hannzoaks @menagerofmischief

To be added to the tag list, comment and ask! And if you saw this without the tag list before I took it down and reposted after a good panic of realizing I didn't do tags, then no, you didn't see anything... *distant sobbing*

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hereforreadandwrite · 10 months

Text

Chapter One

/!\ mutilation, torture, nudity /!\

Masterlist

It was so cold, so damp and so dark. You were lying in the fetal position in the corner of the room. The smell of mold was unbearable. How long have you been locked in this room? There was no window. You have been a prisoner of King Rhodri for several days. He had been torturing you for several days. He wanted you to tell him everything you knew about Ivarr and Ubba's fighting tactics. You held on. You refused to tell him anything. For Ivarr, for Ubba, for all your Viking brothers and sisters. If you had to die and rot in Helheim to protect your loved ones, you were prepared to suffer this dishonour. You jumped when you heard the door to the room open. The king had arrived for your daily torture. You watched him walk around the room, hanging his torch on the wall before approaching the table where several tools were waiting for him.

"So pagan, you still haven't decided to reveal what you know about your people? No one will come to save you. You know it. So why do you keep protecting them?" Rhodri asked, taking a knife before turning to the cage.

"Never… better die…," you say between two breaths.

"That's what will happen to you, heathen. But not before you suffer as God wills to atone for your peach trees."

"He might not see the end of it," you say, chuckling. "Your stupid God… how can he find the time to judge all these people?"

"Little bitch!" he cried, shoving the knife into the table.

Rhodri opened the cage door wide, grabbing a handful of your hair to drag you out of the cage. You grabbed his wrist, trying to scratch him and get him to let go, to no avail. You were weak. Rhodri could do whatever he wanted with you. The king took off your clothes before forcing you to sit on a chair with many iron spikes that dug into your skin. You bit your lip as hard as you could, stifling a cry of pain as it bound your wrists and thighs, forcing you to sink deeper into that seat. It was like that every day, he had the imagination to make you suffer the worst pain.

"So? Do you like this new seat? I got some new toys. And God forgive me for that, but I can't wait to use them against you," he said, gesturing to one of his men. to return so that he brings the toys in question. "It's going to be painful, but our Lord is merciful."

"Fuck you asshole! Ivarr will get your head! Like all the other kings he killed!" you exclaimed before spitting a mollard at Rhodri's feet.

"Ivarr? Hm! Who do you think gave him that scar?" he asked, chuckling. "If I understood correctly, you are close to him? In that case, I will bind you forever."

Rhodri returned to the table, picking up his knife before moving closer to you. You swallowed hard, realizing what he was planning to do. You began to resist a prayer to Frigg's glory, begging her to give you strength to get through this ordeal. Rhodri grabbed a handful of your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back. You glared at the Breton as he placed the blade of his knife on the top of your forehead. He pressed just enough, he wanted to make sure his marks would stay on his face for life. You couldn't suppress a cry of pain escaping your lips as you felt the blade rip through your flesh and your right eye. He lowered the blade down your chin. He took a step back, admiring his masterpiece before shaking his head.

"It's not okay, we need more," he said, moving closer to you. "Ivarr will be able to contemplate another failure."

Rhodri went back to work, inflicting three more wounds on you. He had amused himself by mutilating your body for an entire week and now he was attacking your face. You were praying to Thor to give Ivarr the strength to slaughter that guy. After completing his artwork, Rhodri was laughing and clapping. Proud of what he had done. You struggled to stay conscious. The pain was unbearable.

Your first thought was to wonder if Ivarr was going to continue to find you attractive with all the scars you were going to carry for life. You were disfigured for life, this damn seat was going to mark your back, your arms and your legs for life. How would he react seeing you in this state? What was he going to think? You were looking at Rhodri with your one good eye. You could vaguely see him returning to the table, checking his other toys when the sound of the horn echoed through the castle. A soldier quickly entered the room, announcing to Rhodri that the Ragnarsson and their armer were at the gates of the castle. The king chuckled as he approached you. He leaned into your ear, his hot, repulsive breath caressing your skin, making you want to vomit.

"Looks like your bastard lover is on my doorstep. I'll give him a warm welcome, then I'll take care of you."

Rhodri let go of you and moved closer to the soldier, ordering him to make sure no one enters this room. The smell of blood made you nauseous. You felt weak and your wounds continued to bleed, knocking you unconscious.

The party was in full swing in Repton, people were celebrating the rise of their new king. But you were in the huge tent, looking at maps of England, thinking of new places to explore or plunder. You folded the map, putting it away with the others before taking your notebook to write down the places and places that could be looted and the resources Repton needed.

"What are you doing here, woman?"

You turned towards the entrance of the tent to see that it was none other than Ivarr. Your lover took care to close the opening of the tent, giving you some privacy. You showed him your notebook and the notes you were taking. Ivarr sighed dramatically as he moved closer to you.

"Don't you think it's a bit late for work?" he asked, sitting down on the table.

"So what? We have to think about what's next. There are other places to go pillars and places to explore," you say, going to get a new map. "I even found some kings you could kill and inflate your royal kill number."

"That's generous of you," he said, stepping down from the table to get closer to you. "Very generous indeed."

Ivarr put his hands on your hips, pressing his body against yours. He brushed your hair from your neck to lay his lips there, nibbling at your tender skin.

"Ivarr… I still have work to do," you say, unsticking yourself from your lover to bring the card to the table.

Ivarr followed you without saying anything. Which was rare. You settled back at the table, unfolding the map, placing miniatures on it. The drengr moved behind you, placing his hands on either side of your body, trapping you between him and the table. You tried to ignore him, continuing to place figures and take notes. He pulled your hair from your neck, once again placing his lips there. You were trying to resist the temptation, but this guy knew what to do to crack you up. He had you trapped. It was impossible for you to run away. You melted into the arms of the drengr. Ivarr turned you to him so he could ravish your lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. You felt him smile against your lips. You backed away, running your hand over his gash. You were the only person in his nine realms to have the privilege of touching his scar. You were surprised to feel your right eye become sore. You put your hand over your sore eye, moaning in pain. Ivarr was stepping back, looking at you puzzled. You pulled your hand away, noticing that it was covered in blood. What was happening?

You woke up with a start when you heard the door to the room slam against the wall. You vaguely heard someone say, "I found her." You tried to raise your head, without success. You were trying to make out the face of the person who came to save you. He removed your restraints, making you leave this chair. A moan of pain escaped your lips as your savior ran his hand through your blood-soaked, greasy hair. You tried to make out your savior's face, but your vision was too blurry for you to make out anything.

"(Y/N). (Y/N), can you hear me?" asked the person rocking you.

You couldn't help smiling when you recognized your savior's voice. It was none other than Ivarr the Boneless. He had come to get you.

"You came…," you said weakly. "I knew you would come… I always knew."

"Hush, woman," he said, tugging on a sheet, knocking the items off the table.

Ivarr draped the sheet over your bruised body before lifting you off the ground, carrying you away from this torture chamber.

Rhodri was kneeling before Ubba, Halfdan, Sigurd and Eivor. The king glared at the Boneless when he saw it return with your semi-conscious form. This one had to use all that willpower to resist the urge to massacre him on the spot. Seeing your condition, Ubba told his brother to look as soon as possible to Bishop Deorlaf, he will know how to heal your wounds. Ivarr gave Rhodri one last look, telling his brothers and allies to keep him alive, that he would take his case personally. Ivarr left the castle, hurrying on his horse to reach the Bishop's Church as quickly as possible. You had trouble staying conscious. You pressed your cheek, unhurt, against his chest.

"He was saying… you let me down. He was trying to convince me to…to tell him about your plans to arm," you said, clinging to him. "I didn't tell him…"

"I know, dýrr. You held on," he said, hugging you. "You are a warrior."

You nodded slightly, falling asleep against your mate's chest.

#x reader #fanfiction #ac valhalla ivarr #ac eivor #ac valhalla #ubba ragnarsson #halfdan ragnarsson #sigurd #ivarr the boneless #reader insert #ivarr x reader

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myfavouritelunatic · 1 year

Text

The Blacksmith

Pelargir celebrates it's victory... though not everyone is rejoicing. Enjoy! ❤️

Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: The lightest of smut. I'm still teasing y'all, I know. 😈

Links to Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three, Twenty-Four, Twenty-Five, Twenty-Six, Twenty-Seven, Twenty-Eight, Twenty-Nine, Thirty, Thirty-One, and Thirty-Two!

Chapter Thirty-Three

You slipped back into your favourite crimson dress once more, wanting to compliment your king. You both packed your bags since you would not be returning to the inn now. Despite your suggestion that you would be close to your mother here, the king and queen were in need of a palace, a place to call your own. You had made peace, for the most part, with your brothers, and with the ties this inn had to your mother's dying day. Azrahin was right, this place was not her grave. Heading out of your chamber you stopped by to see how he was recovering. Thankfully his wound was already making much progress in healing, though you wanted to help it along however you could, grabbing some of your athelas from your sack and applying it to his leg. "I remember mother using this herb when we were children. I'm pleased to see you've continued her work."

"I don't remember all that much actually, but thankfully I remember this, as it has become of vital use as of late." you smiled at him. "Have you eaten? Would you be able to join us downstairs?" "Târikun brought me up some food this morning. But I hear talk of a feast later today, is that so?" "We've only just heard about it ourselves." spoke Halbrand. "Will you have strength enough to join us?" "I wouldn't miss it." Azrahin nodded at your husband, as the two of you took your leave to let him rest. You were starving and could not wait for the afternoon to come, so you quickly downed some eggs, bacon, and potatoes, whilst Halbrand snacked on his own absentmindedly, his mind brimming with thought. "You know I cannot penetrate your mind, my love. Talk to me."

"I'm just reflecting on all that has happened, on where we are now, and how it is we got here. And to think… I never wanted to return to this land. Now I am it's king." He finished his words with a chuckle of disbelief, before swallowing the last of his meal. "Shall we go, my love?" "Yes." you grinned at your husband, gulping down the water from your cup. As you both rose to your feet, the people in the inn around you did the same, and bowed as you walked past. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that." you whispered under your breath. "Give it time." Halbrand responded, opening the inn's door for you.

Wandering through the streets gave you no choice but to try and become accustomed to your new life as monarch, for the people of Pelargir were not shy about showing their respect. Part of you still did not feel worthy of such honour, your humble background again shining through. Instead, you chose to look at Halbrand and take in how he reacted to his people fawning over him. His head was held high, his expression was one of pride, a small smile etched within it. He made eye contact with all you passed, even acknowledging some of them with greetings. This was a being who understood the position of power he was in. Who knew how to carry themselves. Halbrand had after all been a dark lord with beings at his beck and call for more than an age. He wasn't only accustomed to this way of living, it was a part of who he was.

After about twenty minutes of walking, the further out of the city proper you got, the number of people on the road began to dwindle. It seems this 'home' of yours Bronwyn had secured you was in a more secluded part of Pelargir, granting you some privacy. But such privacy would not last long once it became known where the king and queen were housed. You decided to enjoy the last moments of relative obscurity your lodgings would afford, accepting that your life would never be the same again.

The house you had come upon was modest, but not something you would consider to be unfit for you both. Made of grey stone, you appreciated the subtle elements of Númenórean design laden within the structure. There were two storeys, which you both explored thoroughly once across the threshold. The ground floor held within it a large open space for cooking and dining, with an impressive circular wooden table surrounded by chairs made with iron. Each held within it crimson coloured cushions that were smooth to the touch. Velvet, like your gown. Ascending the stone stairs, you came upon the washroom which held within it a single tub, large enough for two or three people to bathe in. Then there was your bed chamber next to it, containing a stunning golden vanity with two seats to match. The desk of it was covered in a rich red cloth, and you couldn't help but picture your crowns gleaming on top of it.

Against the rear wall was a large four poster bed, its drapes of the same fabric that covered the desk. The sheets were cream, though the sunlight coming through the window caused the intricate gold embroidery hidden within to glisten. You looked over at Halbrand then, who had one hand grasping one of the mahogany posts, leaning against it, having placed your bags on the mattress. His eyes were on the bed, surveying it. Sidling up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, he turned to face you, eyes filled with desire. "Tonight will be the first of many nights in this bed… the things I am going to do to you… the ways I plan to use your body… it will be worth the wait." Your pulse quickened as each of his words affected your body the way he intended, and you couldn't help but crash your lips into his in response, seeking to return to the state you were both in this morning before your brother interrupted. Coming up for air, you questioned your king. "Must we go to this celebration?"

"Yes, you must." an unexpected voice entered the room, sending a chill through you. "I am here to ensure it." You felt your cheeks redden with the realisation that Galadriel had caught you both in an intimate moment. She was looking more like the she-elf you remembered now, wearing a deep turquoise dress that contained lovely silver accents scattered throughout, fitting her form so flatteringly, sleeves of shining lace falling down from her wrists to near the floor. Her face had softened since last you looked at her, but hints of her vendetta still remained in her gaze. Perhaps she had not yet been swayed.

Halbrand chuckled dryly. "Someone sent you to fetch us? Alone?" "I came of my own accord. And if you weren't at the inn, then Bronwyn stated this is likely where you'd be." Galadriel stepped back out of the doorway, indicating for you both to leave. You took one step before Halbrand stopped you. "One thing first, before we are ready." Reaching into his sack, he pulled out the two symbols of your royalty. He placed the diadem gently on your head, then his crown upon his own. Turning back to Galadriel he spoke, walking towards her. "I must thank you again for this. For seeing in me what no one else could. Without you I would be a humble blacksmith, nothing more."

"Do not test me, Sauron. I am attempting to believe in the words and actions both of you displayed last night. Though I would happily see my sword still strike you." Galadriel snarled, not giving in to the fun Halbrand was trying to have with her. "Please. Call me, Halbrand." he reminded her, his tone becoming serious. Your love passed her with you in tow, your eyes connecting with the she-elf's, who was fighting to hold back her frustration. The three of you made your way down the stairs and out into the street, yourself in the middle with Halbrand and Galadriel on either side. "I am surprised anyone let you out of their sight. Given what happened at the wedding." you wondered aloud. "Not as surprised as the people will be when they see us together." Halbrand commented, causing Galadriel to scoff. Ignoring your husband, you continued to talk with the she-elf. "I am grateful you seem to be giving us a chance, Galadriel."

"Despite what I said to you in the cell yester eve… our time together did not mean nothing. If there is a chance you can be redeemed, my friend, then it is a chance I am glad to take. And if you speak the truth about… Halbrand," She hesitated to call him by that name, a name that was filled with such pain and disgust as she uttered it. "Then I am hopeful that, somehow, I might come to see the same goodness in him that you claim to." You smiled softly at her words, and looked to Halbrand. He was grinning arrogantly from ear to ear. When he saw your eyes upon him, he picked up your hand and pressed it to his lips in a quick kiss.

No other words were spoken during the journey to the hall. You felt as if you were treading on egg shells, that perhaps if anything further was said between the three of you, then whatever fortune Galadriel was bestowing upon you both would run out. And you desperately wanted to hold on to the feeling of having her by your side once again. Halbrand had been right though, the closer to the hall you got, the amount of gasping and shocked individuals you passed only increased. Some folks even looked confused. But one thing remained the same amongst them all, they bowed and curtsied at the three of you as you went by.

You entered the hall with thunderous applause from your people, and the masses from the streets all filed in behind you, hundreds of people taking their seats. You walked up the aisle towards the dais where you were married, and the table you never got to sit at. On one side Arondir, Bronwyn, and Theo were stood waiting for you, and the young man's spark had begun to return to his eye, the colour to his cheek. Seeing Theo alive and well was of great relief for you, even if you noticed him staring at Galadriel and not you or Halbrand. On the other side of the table sat Azrahin with Târikun standing beside him. Your brothers were beaming at you proudly.

The three of you took your seats, again with Halbrand and Galadriel on either side of you, as you gazed out across the packed hall. The cheering subsided, and Halbrand stood up to speak. "My friends. It seems the beginning of our reign has been commemorated with a grave night. Though it was a night that saw us rise up in victory against our enemy." Clapping broke out again, though the king was far from done. "I must confess to you all. The claim the Lady Galadriel made is a truthful one. I was Sauron." Stunned sounds permeated the air, though thankfully they were few. "But my claim to lead you now, to ensure your safety and comfort… that is also true. I wish only to heal these lands, to put a stop to the ruin of the Southlands. There will be more battles to come, my friends, I can assure you of that. And if you keep me as your king… they will be battles we shall win."

The roar from the room was deafening. Everyone on their feet, showing their affections for their king. It was incredible to witness. People cheering for the dark lord Sauron. You glanced at Galadriel to gauge her reaction. Steadfast, her expression gave away nothing. Halbrand continued, holding aloft his goblet filled with ale. "Today we celebrate our people who live, and pay tribute to those we lost. Their sacrifice will mean more than their spirits will know. To Pelargir!"

"To Pelargir!" the crowd chanted in unison, before falling silent to drink from their cups. Tipping back your own silver goblet, the taste of red wine upon your tongue, its flavour was filled with notes of blackberry and pepper. As the people took their seats, the feast presented itself as dozens of cooks and kitchenhands brought forth probably the remainder of all the meat and vegetables Pelargir had to offer, considering this was the second big feast in as many days.

The afternoon began to slip into the evening as the light through the hall's windows dimmed and changed colour. Hours had passed since you had taken your seats, with you consuming the three courses the kitchen had prepared you, and having downed almost four full goblets of wine. Galadriel had wandered off to speak with your people, no doubt in an attempt to smooth over her introduction to them. Or perhaps, even possibly, to find more reasons to either side or fight with you. Halbrand had also done the same, after talking first with Theo for what felt like forever, and then again with your brothers whom he was bonding with very quickly. From your vantage point on the dais, you could spy his crowned head easily, watching as a group of men raised their cups to him once more.

Bronwyn and Arondir had remained mostly quiet, especially Bronwyn. It seemed she was still going through the motions after Theo's near demise last night. Though there was something about her demeanour you couldn't place. Seizing the opportunity presented by her excusing herself, you leaned over to Arondir, speaking low into his pointed ear. "Is Bronwyn alright? She doesn't seem herself." The elf watched his love walk quietly away, and did not answer immediately, needing time to gather his words before you could hear them. "There are certain matters my lady does not wish me to discuss." he spoke diplomatically. "She is well enough, considering."

"I would be more than happy to speak with her directly. When she is able." you offered, wanting Arondir to know you cared. The elf only bowed his head in response, and rose to take his leave, moving gracefully in the direction of Bronwyn. As your eyes followed him leaving, they encountered a sight that knocked the wind right out of you. Your friends from the road, all seated, the kids flinging cold food at each other, and the adults looking worse for wear. Though nothing prepared you for Olwenna's face. She sat silently, an arm around Padrig who was sat beside her, staring into nothing. Her expression was empty.

Immediately you rose from your chair, deciding to do something about the nagging guilt that refused to leave you. Walking swiftly over to where they were seated, all of them stood to greet their queen, whether out of fear or respect you were not sure, all of them… except Olwenna. She only looked up at you now, the sight of you bringing tears to her eyes. "Garion…" His name was all she could muster to pass her lips. Moving towards her, Padrig stepped out of your way as you took Olwenna into your arms, letting her sob in her grief. Time stood still as you held her. Eventually, she released herself from you, pulling back to show her tear stained face, red circles around her eyes, and her usually refined auburn locks completely askew.

"I am profoundly sorry." you offered your condolences, praying your lies would remain secret. Sniffling, she spoke slowly, her voice void of emotion. "He died… saving… you… they told me…" It seems the story Halbrand had concocted spread amongst your people. Perhaps told after you left with your brothers after the battle. Olwenna managed a small smile, but it did not reach her eyes. "At least… he gave his life… for a purpose."

Feeling your own tears forming, and your lip trembling, there was nothing you could say. For you feared the next words out of your mouth would be the truth. Halbrand killed Garion. I made it look like orcs. Garion tried to kill me… It was the last of those three statements you somehow knew would hurt Olwenna the most. You gulped, as if forcing back down those awful truths into the pit with your darkness where they belonged. Instead you chose to speak the truths she knew, the ones that were able to pass your lips. "Garion was a noble man… I'd never met anyone as altruistic as him. And I doubt I will ever again…"

"You are monsters. You are not my friends." His words began to echo in your mind like a loud and lingering church bell. "…how could you lie to us? …filthy… Númenórean…" You could feel your darkness nipping at your light, stirring your insides as you heard every word of the dead man strike you once again. The rage within you building. Closing your eyes, you took in the deepest of breaths, hoping it would be enough to find your calm again. Though upon opening your lids once more, the sight of Garion's widow was now unbearable. Rising swiftly to your feet, you uttered two words before leaving Olwenna be. "Forgive me."

Tagging: @denzit @heronamedhawks @pursuitseternal @restless-tides @coraleethroughthelookingglass @hikarielizabethbloom @vaguelyvibin @imjustsuperweird @gil-galadhwen

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand/sauron x reader #halbrand #sauron #charlie vickers #the rings of power #trop #trop fanfic #lord of the rings #lotr

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thewidowsghost · 1 year

Text

Seeing the Beauty (Piper McLean x Fem!Reader) - Chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Jason helps (Y/n) put Piper on the couch while Annabeth rushes down the hall to get a medkit. Piper is still breathing, but she hasn't woken up; (Y/n) wonders if she was in some type of coma.

"She'll be okay, right?" (Y/n) asks Chiron - the camp director - the Centaur.

Chiron stares at her for a moment, and then his eyes soften with a fatherly light. "We'll do our best," he replies. Chiron moves over and puts a hand to Piper's forehead. "Her mind is in a fragile state. Rachel, what happened?"

"I wish I knew," she asks. "As soon as I got to camp, I had a premonition about Hera's cabin. I went inside. Annabeth, Piper, and (Y/n) came in while I was there. We talked, and then - I just blanked out. Annabeth said I spoke in a different voice."

"A prophecy?" Chiron asks.

"No. The spirit of Delphi comes from within. I know how that feels. This was like long distance, a power trying to speak through me."

Annabeth runs in with a leather pouch. She kneels next to Piper. "Chiron, what happened back there - I've never seen anything like it. I've heard Rachel's prophecy voice. This was different. She sounded like an older woman. She grabbed Piper's shoulders and told her -"

"To free her from a prison?" Jason guesses.

Annabeth stares at him. "How did you know that?"

Chiron makes a three-fingered gesture over his heart, like a ward against evil.

"Jason, tell them. Annabeth, the medicine bag, please." Chiron trickles drops from a medicine vial into Piper's mouth while Jason explains what had happened when the room froze - the dark misty woman who had claimed to be Jason's patron.

When he is done, no one speaks, which makes him more anxious. "So does this happen often?" he asks. "Supernatural phone calls from convicts demanding you bust them out of jail?"

"Your patron," Annabeth asks. "Not your godly parent?"

"No, she said patron. She also said my dad had given her my life."

Annabeth frowns. "I've never of heard anything like that before. You said the storm spirit on the skywalk - he claimed to be working for some mistress who was giving him orders, right? Could it be this woman you saw, messing with your mind?"

"I don't think so," Jason said. "If she were my enemy, why would she be asking for my help? She's imprisoned. She's worried about some enemy getting more powerful. Something about a king rising from the earth on the solstice -"

Annabeth turned to Chiron. "Not Kronos. Please tell me it's not that."

(Y/n) feels - once again - as though a spike had been driven between her eyes and a memory comes to the surface:

The bridge to Olympus was dissolving. (Y/n), Percy, Annabeth, Thalia, and Grover step out of the elevator onto the white marble walkway and immediately cracks appear at their feet.

"Jump!" Grover yells, which was easy for him - being part mountain goat. He springs to the next slab of stone while their's tilted sickeningly.

"Gods, I hate heights!" Thalia yells as she, Percy, and (Y/n) leap, but Annabeth was in no shape for jumping.

Annabeth stumbles and shouts, "Percy!"

Percy catches her hand as the pavement falls, crumbling into dust. For a second, Percy thinks that Annabeth was going to pull both of them over. Her feet dangled in the open air. Annabeth's hand starts to slip, until Percy is holding her only by her fingers.

Then, Grover, (Y/n), and Thalia grab Percy's legs, and the son of Poesidon finds extra strength. Annabeth was not going to fall.

. . .

A white sheet of smoke pours from the fire, forming images like an Iris-message. (Y/n) sees Nico and her parents down on Fifth Avenue, fighting a hopeless battle, ringed by enemies. In the background, Hades fights from his black chariot, summing wave after wave of undead soldiers from the ground, but the forces of the Titan Lord's army seem just as endless. Meanwhile, Manhattan was being destroyed; morals, now fully awake, were running in terror while cars swerved and crashed.

The scene shifts, and (Y/n) sees something more terrifying.

A column of storm is approaching the Hudson River, moving rapidly over the Jersey shore. Chariots circle it, locked in combat with the creature in the cloud.

The gods attack.

Lightning flashes.

Arrows of gold and silver streak into the cloud like rocket tracers and explode.

Slowly, the cloud rip apart, and (Y/n) sees Typhon clearly for the first time.

She knows as long as she lived - Though it might not be very long, (Y/n) thinks - (Y/n) would never be able to get the image out of her mind. Typhon's head shifts. Every moment, he's a different monster, each more horrible than the last. Looking at his face would have driven her insane, so she focuses on his body, not that it was much better. He's humanoid, but reminds (Y/n) of a meatloaf sandwich that had been in someone's locker all year. He is mottled green, with blisters of buildings and blackened patches from eons of being stuck under a volcano. His hands are human, but with talons like an eagle's, and his legs are scaly and reptilian.

"The Olympians are giving their final effort," Kronos rumbles, laughing. "How pathetic."

Zeus throws a thunderbolt from his chariot; the blast lights up the world. (Y/n) can feel the shock from Olympus, but when the dust clears, Typhon is still standing. He staggers, with a smoking crater on top of his head, but he roars in anger and keeps advancing.

(Y/n) limbs begin to loosen from Kronos's time curse, but Kronos doesn't seem to notice. The Titan is keeping his focus on the fight and his final victory. If I can hold out a few more seconds, and if Dad keeps his word . . .

Typhon steps into the Hudson River, and barely sinks to midcalf.

Now, (Y/n) thinks, imploring the image in the smoke. Please, it has to happen now.

Like a miracle, a conch horn sounds from the smoky picture.

The call of the ocean.

The call of Poesidon.

All around Typhon, the Hudson River erupts, churning with forty-foot waves. Out of the water bursts a new chariot - this one pulled by massive hippocampi, who swim in air as easily as in water. (Y/n)'s father, glowing with a blue aura of power, rides a defiant circle around the giant's legs. Poseidon is no longer an old man. He looks like himself again - tan and strong with a black beard. As he swings his trident, the river responds, making a funnel cloud around the monster.

"No!" Kronos bellows after a moment of stunned silence. "NO!"

"NOW, MY BRETHREN!" Poseidon's voice is so loud (Y/n) isn't sure if she's hearing it from the smoke image or from all the way across town. "STRIKE FOR OLYMPUS!"

Warriors burst out of the river, riding the waves on huge sharks and dragons and sea horses.

A legion of Cyclopes, and leading them into battle was . . .

"Tyson," (Y/n) exclaims.

(Y/n) knows her brother couldn't hear her, but she stares in amazement. He'd grown in size - thirty feet tall, wearing full battle armor - and right behind him is Briares, the Hundred-Handed One.

All the Cyclopes hold huge lengths of black iron chains - big enough to anchor a battleship - with grappling hooks on the ends. They swing their chains like lassos and begin to ensnare Typhon, throwing lines around the creatures legs and arms, using the tide to keep circling, slowly tangling him. Typhon shakes and roars and yanks at the chains, pulling some of the Cyclopes off their mounts; but there are too many chains. The sheer weight of the Cyclops battalion begin to weigh Typhon down. Poseidon throws his trident and impales the monster in the throat. Golden blood, immortal ichor, spews from the wound, making a waterfall taller than a skyscraper; the trident flies back to Poesidon's hand.

The other gods strike with renewed force. Ares rides in and stabs Typhon in the nose. Artemis shoots the monster in the eye with a dozen silver arrows. Apollo shoots a blazing volley of arrows and sets the monster's loincloth on fire. Zeus keeps pounding the giant with lightning, until finally, slowly, the water rises, wrapping Typhon like a cocoon, and he begins to sink under the weight of the chains. Typhon bellows in agony, thrashing with such force that waves slosh the Jersey shore, soaking five-story buildings and splashing over the George Washington Bridge - but down as he goes as (Y/n)'s father opens a special tunnel for him at the bottom of the river - and endless waterslide that would take him straight to Tarturus. The giant's head goes under in a seething whirlpool and he is gone.

"BAH!" Kronos thunders, slashing his sword through the smoke, tearing the image to shreds.

"They're on their way," (Y/n) says, meeting Kronos's golden eyes. "You've lost."

"I haven't even started," the Titan roars.

Kronos moves with blinding speed, and (Y/n) sidesteps, slamming the flat of Tsunami's blade into the Titan's side.

The blow does nothing, but the Titan growls, most likely just annoyed,

(Y/n)'s instincts take over, slashing, dodging, and rolling, but she feels as though she's fighting a hundred swordsmen. It gets slightly easier when Percy advances.

Annabeth watches, her eyes wide, as the Jackson twins fight. The jabs and slashes were so perfectly timed that it seemed almost like a choreographed dance.

Percy strikes the Titan's armor so hard that it gashes the armor.

The Titan lets out another roar, swinging his sword, and it catches (Y/n) in the ribs. The daughter of Poesidon's armor shatters and she slams backwards into Athena's throne, sliding down beside Annabeth.

Percy lets out a roar, sidestepping and jabbing under Kronos's guard - a good trick, but Luke knew it. He counters the strike and disarms the son of Poesidon using one of the first moves he'd taught him. Riptide skitters across the ground and falls straight into the open fissure.

"Stop!" Annabeth comes from nowhere. Kronos whirs and slashes at Backbiter, but somehow, the daughter of Athena catches the strike on her dagger hilt - only the quickest and most skilled knife fighter could've managed. Percy doesn't know where Annabeth finds the strength, but she steps in closer for leverage, their blades cross, and for a moment, she stands face-to-face with the Titan lord, holding him at a standstill.

. . .

"Hey," A rough shaking of her shoulders brings (Y/n) out of the memory. "Hey, are you okay?" Annabeth's eyes gleam with worry.

"What?" (Y/n) asks, and she crumples to the ground with a thud.

. . .

Piper wakes to the feeling like she'd been trampled by an Irish step-dancing troupe. Her chest hurts, and she can barely breathe. She reaches down and closes her hand around the hilt of the dagger Annabeth had given her - Katoptris, Helen of Troy's weapon.

Camp Half-Blood hadn't been a dream.

"How are you feeling?" someone asks.

Piper tries to focus. She's lying in a bed with a white curtain on one side, like in a nurse's office.

The redheaded girl, Rachel Dare, sits next to her.

"Where -" Piper's voice dies when she sees the guy at the door. He looks like a typical California surfer dude - buff and tan, blonde hair, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt - but he has hundreds of blue eyes all over his body - all down his arms, legs, and all over his face.

"That's Argus," Rachel says, "our head of security. He's just keeping an eye on things . . . so to speak."

Argus nods; the eye on his chin winks.

"Where -?" Piper tries again, but she feels like she is talking through a mouthful of cotton.

"You're in the Big House," Rachel says. "Camp offices. We brought you here when you collapsed."

"You grabbed me," Piper remembers. "Hera's voice -" "I'm so sorry about that," Rachel says. "Believe me, it was not my idea to get possessed. Chiron healed you with some nectar -"

"Nectar?"

"The drink of the gods. In small amounts, it heals demigods, if it doesn't - ah - burn you to ashes."

"Oh. Fun."

Rachel sits forward. "Do you remember your vision?"

Piper has a moment of dread, thinking she meant the dream about the giant. Then she realizes Rachel was talking about what happened in Hera's cabin.

"Something's wrong with the goddess," Piper replies. "She told me to free her, like she's trapped. She mentioned the earth swallowing us, and a fiery one, and something about the solstice."

In the corner, Argus made a rumbling sound in his chest. His eyes all fluttered at once.

"Hera created Argus," Rachel explained. "He's actually very sensitive when it comes to her safety. We're trying to keep him from crying, because last time that happened ... well, it caused quite a flood."

Argus sniffles. He grabs a fistful of Kleenex from the bedside table and starts dabbing eyes all over his body.

"So ..." Piper tries not to stare as Argus wipes the tears from his elbows. "What's happened to Hera?"

"We're not sure," Rachel said. "Annabeth and Jason were here for you, by the way. Jason didn't want to leave you, but Annabeth had an idea - something that might restore his memories."

"That's . . . that's great."

Jason had been here for her? Piper thinks she'd be more excited for that knowledge, but she pushes the feeling aside. Get over yourself, she thinks. If she is going to save her dad, it doesn't matter whether Jason liked her or not. He would hate her eventually.

Everyone here would.

Piper looks down at the ceremonial dagger strapped to her side. Annabeth had said it was a sign of power and status, but not normally used in battle. All show and no substance. A fake, just like Piper. And its name is Katoptris, looking glass. She doesn't dare unsheathe it again, because she can't bear to see her own reflection. "Don't worry." Rachel squeezes her arm. "Jason seems like a good guy. He had a vision too, a lot like yours. Whatever's happening with Hera - I think you two are meant to work together."

Rachel smiles like this was good news, but Piper's spirits plunge even further. She'd thought that this quest - whatever it was - would involve nameless people. Now Rachel is basically telling her: Good news! Not only is your dad being held ransom by a cannibal giant, you also get to betray the guy you'd liked because of Hera's magic! How awesome is that?

"Hey," Rachel said. "No need to cry. You'll figure it out."

Piper wipes her eyes, trying to get control of herself. This isn't like her. She is supposed to be tough - a hardened car thief, the scourge of L.A. private schools. Here she is, crying like a baby. "How can you know what I'm facing?"

Rachel shrugs. "I know it's a hard choice, and your options aren't great. Like I said, I get hunches sometimes. But you're going to be claimed at the campfire. I'm almost sure. When you know who your godly parent is, things might be clearer."

Clearer, Piper thinks. Not necessarily better.

. . .

(Y/n) stands before Luke Castellan - defenseless - having regained her consciousness.

Luke unlatches the side straps of his armor, exposing a small bit of his skin just under his left arm, a place that would be very hard to hit. With difficulty, he stabs himself.

It isn't a deep cut, but Luke howls. His eyes glow like lava. The throne room shakes, throwing (Y/n) off her feet once more. An aura of energy surrounds Luke, growing brighter and brighter. (Y/n) closes her eyes and feels a force like a nuclear explosion blister her skin and crack her lips.

It is silent for a long while.

When (Y/n) opens her eyes, she sees Luke sprawled at the hearth. On the floor around him is a blackened circle of ash. Kronos's scythe had liquified into molten metal and is trickling into the coals of the hearth, which now glow like a blacksmith's furnace.

Luke's left side is bloody; his eyes are open - blue, the way they used to be. His breath is a deep rattle.

. . .

The gods arrive a few minutes later in their full war regalia, thundering into teh throne room and expecting a battle.

What they find is Annabeth, (Y/n), Percy, and Grover standing over the body of a broken half-blood in the dim, warm light of the hearth.

"Percy, (Y/n)," Poseidon calls to his children, awe in his voice. "What . . . what is this?"

Percy turns and faces the Olympians. "We need a shroud," he announces. "A shroud for the son of Hermes."

Word Count: 2817 words

Taglist:

@camaddison

@steinfellds

@p-taryn-dactyl

@oculusalien

@@pink-widows

@unlikelysublimekryptonite

@yellowvxbes

@decadentrebelkitten

@eevil-empress

@anteroz

@mag-mfm

@26randomness

@cair-paravel-narnia

@hayhaythegaygay

#piper mclean x female reader #piper mclean x fem reader #piper mclean x reader #lesbian piper mclean

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borathae · 2 months

Note

chapter 1

“Thank you good sir” i havent seen this in a serious manner in a long time, and laughed cuz it sounded like 1890s memes 😭 im sorry

pulls the door open with ease. NO WAY I PUSHED AN PULL DOOR BYE U DIDNT HAVE TO ATTACK SOME OF US LIKE THAT 😭 violence i will be meditating

ALSO IS IT TAE OR JIN AAH HOLD ON JOON IS TALL TOO maybe kook??

“I’ve been a student here for quite some time actually” this sits at the same table as "how long have you been 17? a while"

oh it was jooniebug WHY IS OUR PRESIDENT A DICK 😭😭

“At least I don’t look like a stoner from the seventies” JIN STOP, HOBI U LOOK AMAZING

funky what is funky why is funky when is funky where is funky how is funky who is funky

what is she studying to have history and human anatomy together?/srs. ooh literature with different stuff for minor

boi i havent heard the word coolio in a decade, the last time probably while reading ff in 2014

oh my god its the bad boy. is it yoongi? YES I WAS RIGHT

4 HOUR LECTURE ON ONE TOPIC?? BOI I WOULD HAVE DIED AND RESURRECTED IN THAT TIME. i have 2 hour lectures with 5 minute after an hour and its amazing

"No reason really”, *plays why u always lying meme

Hoseok agrees with a quirk of his perfectly styled eyebrow. YES HIS EYEBORWS ARE HOT AS FUCK

ofc kook is a sports major

rest of the Alpha dirt”, damn hoseok really got beef with them

status from royal blood? eww hoseok is slay for that *me acting like i wasnt being a thot while reading yoongi, tae, kook drabbles/oneshots

FUCK SOCIETY

“Dear lord, give me strength”, jin and joon with bangtan

JIMIN WTF U WERE SUPPOSED TO BE LIL FLUFF BEAN *bitch stop u knew how they were in the beninging(yes i misspelled for the meme) YES KICKING IN THE SHIN SUPREMACY

what is a hacky sack? i found out its a game? but what is he exactly studying lol?

also its the way she is making friends and talking to people LIKE SHE SPOKE WORDS YALL could never be me, sure i would have asked someone to help me to my classes but i wouldnt be talking after that, would have said im busy even though im not

if you would excuse me, but you’re quite weird, BYE IM LEAVING THE EARTH THIS IS THE 2ND TIME IM EMBARRASSED you can find me in 134340 business days, where i will be rotting under my blankie bye

“Perfect, now that everyone is welcomed accordingly. an example of when theater theaters in the most theater form

It leaves you wondering what he meant with that. u know what he meant by that, this is where you do the whole twilight thing

“I feel I just witnessed a man high on three different drugs theatre kids in a nutshell (apparently people on tumblr are either gay, english major or a theatre kid, and i sent the meme to my friends, guess what they said................... "looks like you fit all three category" our schools dont have it, but im apparently a theatre kid to them 😭)

WHY DOES THIS MAN WANT TO KILL ME SHUT UP I HATE YOU GO AWAY *gets closer again

How is he walking that quietly you walk with your entire feet, part by part, like in those "special" shoes ads, that helps in reducing sound. slow yet quick

“well, that is indeed a predicament.” oof so elegant, classy, AND RUDE (there 2seok, happy?)

your voice actually comes out squeaky. girl mine would have came quiet yet squeaky way before 😭

BABY CONNECT THE DOTS HOW DID THEY GET THAT FAST QUIETLY??

let’s get the 1860 one.” IS SHE THAT SPECIAL?? WHATS GOING ON AAAH

Seokjin actually answers him with a quiet “yeah!” OFC HE WOULD DO THAT

THEY GOT DEAD BODIES IN THE FREEZER

If you died here tonight EXACTLY U GONNA DIE BYE GIRL, YOU WILL (NOT) BE MISSED jk jk lol

ig kook is scared of girls *eww that was cringe bye Maybe he just needed to take a really urgent shit OH MY GOD PLS😭😭 this is going to stay in my mind forever, everytime i see him running im gonna think of this no doubt

“exactly, that is the reason. He is really shy.” aww such a shy lil bean OK BUT IK THATS NOT THE REASON *inserts suspicious hobi eyes

you must have the crispiest oxygen sounds like an indian water ad, that said "more of oxygen " Arrey yaar h2o water has not turned into h2o2 toxic hydrogen peroxide 😭

i love ur descriptions, they are very picturable and i love the vibes. it is soo good, i could smell the place? the seats, library, just the university smell, restaurant. it was great. i dont think my words do any justice lol

NO WAY I PUSHED AN PULL DOOR BYE U DIDNT HAVE TO ATTACK SOME OF US LIKE THAT 😭 violence i will be meditating

I think this is like a universal human experience to push a few pull doors lmaooa

ALSO IS IT TAE OR JIN AAH HOLD ON JOON IS TALL TOO maybe kook??

questions over question mhmhmmhm

oh it was jooniebug WHY IS OUR PRESIDENT A DICK 😭😭

QUESTIONS OVER QUESTIONS INDEED

what is she studying to have history and human anatomy together?/srs. ooh literature with different stuff for minor

honestly? i gotta be honest with you, don't think too deeply about the logistics of her studies. i chose her courses for the sake of plot and nothing else LMAOAO

boi i havent heard the word coolio in a decade, the last time probably while reading ff in 2014

coolio still slaps like 10/10 word (also you see how I made them using "outdated" words wink wink almost as if they were from a different time wink wink)

oh my god its the bad boy. is it yoongi? YES I WAS RIGHT

BADBOY YOONGI AWOO

Hoseok agrees with a quirk of his perfectly styled eyebrow. YES HIS EYEBORWS ARE HOT AS FUCK

THEY ARE THANK YOU FOR SAYING THAT

ofc kook is a sports major

djjfja thinking back, it makes no sense for him to also study JFJDAFJ (you'll understand it later fasdjfj)

JIMIN WTF U WERE SUPPOSED TO BE LIL FLUFF BEAN *bitch stop u knew how they were in the beninging(yes i misspelled for the meme) YES KICKING IN THE SHIN SUPREMACY

HAHHHAHAH he may have tricked you fadjfjas

what is a hacky sack? i found out its a game? but what is he exactly studying lol?

yes it's a game fakdsfka in theory he studies dance PLEASE don't think too much about the logistic I literally just went with vibes

i get both sides like i would want to make friends but would be too scared that they would hate me FADJFJ if people like 2seok talked to me though? helloooooo :)

if you would excuse me, but you’re quite weird, BYE IM LEAVING THE EARTH THIS IS THE 2ND TIME IM EMBARRASSED you can find me in 134340 business days, where i will be rotting under my blankie bye

hahahahhaha this part is actually so embarassing bHAHAHHAHAHAH

i don't get the hate on theater kids, all I see is people who don't fit into the "societal norm" and are therefore labelled as weird losers. we don't have stuff like "theater kid" or "sports kid" in Austria either becuse school is solely there to study not to offer clubs but I still never understood the weird hatered some clubs get in America jfdjfa

THEY GOT DEAD BODIES IN THE FREEZER

👀👀👀👀

as for now it seems like he is ooooh 👀

“exactly, that is the reason. He is really shy.” aww such a shy lil bean OK BUT IK THATS NOT THE REASON *inserts suspicious hobi eyes

SUSPICIOUS INDEED MHHHHM

OMGG THANK YOU!! gosh this is actually such a big compliment :( I'm so happy to know that I managed to really make you exprience the place gaaah thank you for this review heheh 💜💜

#asks: sanguis alpha #asks #minusback #tw: long post

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crab-instruments · 7 months

Text

The Crime Lord’s New Groove Part 6

Master <Part 5

Pairing: Silco x GN Reader

Summary: You find that your boss, Silco, has been turned into a cat.

Warnings: none

a/n: I wake up everyday and wonder why people want me to continue this. I had no idea where I was going when I started this but now it's going somewhere (maybe) and I'll explain more in the ending note because it'll make more sense that way. This is also like twice as long as any of the other chapters so have fun. That might keep happening since this now has something resembling a plot.

Nothing seemed real any more. You were about to accuse your landlord of witchcraft, charge her with crimes of turning your boss, the King of Zaun, into a street cat, and Silco would commit crimes against humanity once human again. If the fuzzy ball of scruff back at The Last Drop wasn’t living proof this was real, you’d be begging to wake up from this surrealist nightmare.

Sevika practically ripped your arm out of its socket, dragging you back to your apartment building. You took heavy steps and dragged your heels, hoping to slow the journey to think your way out of this. The attempt was useless, Sevika would always win in a game of strength and you were a headliner clown in this clusterfuck of a circus. There was no way out of the circus tent but through the ring of fire.

The pulling stopped and you were jerked to a halt, your arm screaming in pain as you regained control. You studied the door of the building like it was a piece of art before giving a pleading look towards the woman next to you. Her eyebrows raised expectantly, waiting for something, expecting action and soon.

“Well, we’re here. You said you wanted to talk to her first so get to it.” Sevika crossed her arms in front of her chest, huffing.

You sighed. “How reliable is your memory? Maybe it wasn’t her, maybe I’m wrong, maybe—”

Luckily Sevika used her human arm to slap you outside the head. “Stop stalling or I’ll just drag her to Silco’s office. Don’t push it. You’re the one who wanted to drag this out.”

You reached for the door, pulling it open and walking through. Sevika followed closely as you lead her to the woman’s apartment on the first floor. The door seemed so unsuspecting, giving nothing away about being the door of a (potential) witch. You raised your fist but you couldn’t knock. You stared at your hand, unmoving. There was a knocking sound regardless of your frozen hand, which startled you. You looked up at Sevika, who looked annoyed at having to knock on the door for you, like it was an arduous task.

Inside the apartment, you could hear movement as Deidre moved to answer the door. A few locks flipped, making a clicking sound, and the door opened slightly, a chain stopping it from opening fully.

“Deidre! So sorry to disturb you but I have something to talk to you about.”

Her blue eyes pierced into your soul, like she knew more than she let on and exuded distrust. “I am firm on the no cats policy, my dear. However, I can give you a few more days if you really felt the need to convince me with violence.” Her eyes flickered over to Sevika and then back at you.

It was at that moment you realized you had spent so much time trying to get out of this confrontation that you had no idea what you were going to do to broach the subject. You stood there, dumbly, as an awkward silence settled over the three of you. As the pressure seemed to rise to the point of bursting, Deidre about to close the door on your face and Sevika about to rip it off its hinges, you blurted out a few words and they stumbled from your mouth ungracefully.

“What are your thoughts on transfiguration?” That seemed to break the tension, causing the two other women to flinch backward in surprise at your outburst.

“Excuse me?”

“Turning a thing into a different thing. You know, magic.”

Deidre hesitated before speaking. “Magic? I’m not sure I’m following.”

Sevika leaned over you, placing a hand on the door to test the strength of the chain keeping the door closed. “Can you turn someone into a cat or not, lady?”

Another awkward moment passed before the landlord gave a harsh laugh, something between annoyance and incredulousness. “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to but you shouldn’t believe everything you hear. I may be a medium but nothing I do is magic, I’m afraid. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“You admit you are something though. What did you do to Silco?” Sevika’s voice came out gritty and impatient. The chain keeping the door closed was barely holding on, close to breaking. You stared at it, admiring its determination to stay linked together while your own sanity unraveled.

The older woman considered Sevika before addressing you again. “This is about your boss? I’ve never met the man—”

“You’re lying, I saw you, yesterday, walk into his office.”

“I did no such thing!”

There was a loud clack, the chain breaking and hitting the door and then a bang as the door hit the wall. Sevika pushed passed you, shoving you into Deidre’s home while she held the older woman by her scarf and dress. She was in her face, yelling, as Deidre refuted her accusations. The argument was hard for you to follow, the most you could get out of Deidre’s defense was that she isn’t a hack and a fraud and only deals with spirits but not usually those of animals like cats. She hardly even does tarot readings because of the poor reputation spiritualism gets from all the past debunking and she just wants to do this in peace!

The fight melted into the background as a wall filled with framed photos caught your eye. Some looked like staged family photos but there were two Deidres in a few, maybe three. They looked exactly the same. Other photos covered the wall, looking old and yellowed over time, some with bright flashes in them and ghostly figures. Deidre was a main figure in a lot of these photos but in many, there were at least two Deidres.

You spun around, putting your hand on Sevika’s arm. “Stop! She has a sister! A twin sister!”

Sevika did stop her assault to look at you in anger before glaring back at the woman held in her hands. Her eyebrows seemed to ask for her confirmation.

The older woman rolled her eyes, like she was making the realization herself too. “Of course! I haven’t seen any of my sisters in a long time but I’d be willing to bet they would each do something nefarious to a man like Silco.” She was quiet a moment, staring past Sevika before yelling again. “Let me go, you brute, before I make you pay for more than the door!” Her hands swatted at Sevika’s arms, like she had no self-preservation.

To her credit, Sevika did let her go and backed up. Deidre readjusted her scarf and dress, huffing the whole time. “Now pick up the door and put it back on the hinges. There are tools in the closet across the hall.”

Sevika balked at the command before becoming aggravated. “Lady, you are on thin ice. Do you think I will—”

“Did you not break into my home, falsely accuse me of witchcraft, and threaten me?! You’ve also dragged my tenant with you! I know you have working hands as they held me aggressively against the wall so I assume they work well enough to screw a few bolt into place. Or are you only capable of violence and mayhem? Hmm?”

The two stared each other down as your heartrate spiked, wondering if you were about to watch a double homicide and how you’d begin to explain the situation to anyone outside the room, let alone your cat boss. It seemed that no matter who one, you were the loser.

It was surprisingly Sevika who relented, muttering under her breath as she went to see the damage she had done.

Your eyes went wide and your jaw fell open. “You… You… What? How? You have to be a witch, because only Silco could boss her around!” You leaned over, clutching your chest. “Is this what a heart attack feels like? I think I’m dying.”

Deidre hummed. “No magic. The spirits told me to not show fear, to not fall prey to her intimidation, and that would be the way to get through to her. It’s about speaking the same language, my dear, I just happen to have an advantage. Would you like some tea and snacks? You’ve been dragged into some mischief unfairly and yet you still extend yourself too far.” Without waiting for an answer, the older woman trots over to the sink, filling up a kettle with water.

She seemed so… sure about everything. How did she know? Spirits? Unfairly?

“Dear, you’ll catch flies if you don’t close your jaw,” she continued her crusade of gathering cups, plates, and refreshments without stopping. Your jaw closed shut with a click. Deidre approached you once again with a full tray, ushering you to sit down. Not knowing what else to do, you followed and accepted the cup of tea she pushed into your hands. Sevika was somehow making quick work of putting the door back up, though begrudgingly.

Everything about this was so… bizarre. Did you enter The Twilight Zone? Deidre was so calm and somehow you felt… comforted? How did she create such an atmosphere? The warm cup in your hand, the easy of the air around you, as if a safety blanket had been placed on you.

Deidre sat in the chair next to you, sipping her tea and looking at you expectantly. Her face had softened from when she had answered the door but her eyes were still calculating. You never had a moment to really analyze her before this, but she did give off the vibes of a mystic grandma you’d find in a cottage in the woods that you could only ever find once and never on purpose. Her hair was unruly, curly and barely tamed in a bun. Her dress seemed stuffy, an older fashion and well worn. Deidre seemed old and timeless at the same time, something of an ethereal, magical being.

“There is no magic in what I do,” Deidre started as if reading your thoughts, “but it can seem like magic to those not in touch with the world around them. I am a medium and can commune with spirits who are still with us. I don’t necessarily get to choose which spirits reach out, much to the grieving’s’ dismay, but it is very real. My sisters, however, would disagree.”

“Sister… plural as in… multiple sisters?”

“Yes, yes, we all look the same. Our mother had a hard time telling us apart. It was quite fun to pull pranks on unsuspecting guests. We are rather estranged now, splitting off in our beliefs. I practice spiritualism but my sisters… They would believe in something as silly as magic. Or use it against marks to get money. They love a good grift, the charlatan.”

Sevika huffed a laugh before sitting down in the last available seat. “So, what, you’re going to bring out a Ouija board and ask the spirits which one of your sisters turned Silco into a cat?”

Deidre did not like Sevika’s attitude one bit. She acted completely different from how she treated you. “It’s naysayers like you that are the reason I don’t advertise my profession as I wish to. No amount of proof will suffice to someone who refuses to believe. Besides, the spirits are not omniscient and I don’t partake so much in the physical demonstration.” She sat back in her chair, her eyes trained back on you.

“I’m not asking.” Sevika broke a cookie in her hand, staring menacingly at Deidre.

The older woman didn’t break eye contact with you as she responded. “Your forcefulness does not encourage the spirits. You’ll get nowhere with it.”

Deidre had all of her attention directed at you, as if it was your turn in a game and she was waiting for you to move. It wasn’t aggressive, more like she was pushing you to do better, like a mentor would. You just wished you knew what game you were playing and what the fucking rules were.

*~*~*

So, in my absence, I have been consuming a lot of podcasts, specifically one called Behind the Bastards. Highly recommend, 10/10, you will go insane. It lead me to a podcast called Ghost Church about American Spiritualism. I became intrigued as it aligns more with my beliefs somewhat. I'm not making fun of it but I am pulling from it for inspiration. The sisters, however, will make fun of it as they will each be inspired by different forms of religion that popped up around that time. Their look and their name are pulled from those people who popularized believing in spirits and having contact with the world beyond. So, you might learn a thing with this silly fic, who knows.

#crab writes #crab fics #silco x reader #silco x you #arcane silco #lol silco #the crime lord's new groove #silco x oc

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twisted-art-wounders · 2 years

Text

YGO AU Leviathan Rising

Yugi gains a new roommate and partner.

Chapter 3 Roommates

Yugi sat on the ground in small square room filled with toys and other games; it was his soul room he'd visited it before it was mostly the same but this time the room had no door. It made sense he wasn't attached to the other Yugi by the millennium puzzle anymore so why would there be a door. He looked up the seemingly endless ceiling above him then at his surroundings, his eyes finally locked onto a old game he was familiar with; pop up pirate.

He picked up the toy and looked at it sadly, he was then flooded with memories of sitting alone in class while everyone else went out to have fun together. He'd be all alone too scared to join anyone even if they invited him, he'd always have some excuse to refrain form joining in, but deep down all he wanted was a friend. Now here he was once again all alone. no friends to keep him company in his own soul. He was trapped and God only knew what this new and powerful god was doing with his form, who would it hurt? What was it doing? Could he even stop it?

Of course not, how could he? He was all alone now not even the other Yugi could stand strong against the power of the Orichalcos so what chance would he have?

Sighing he put the game down and set it up to play with, if he was going to be trapped, he might as well try to pass the time.

Leviathan sat in a chair at the head of the long table, a smile still on his face as he watched Dartz incorporate the bug and dino duellists into their organization and sent them on a task to capture the souls of both the Pharaoh and Joey. Once they'd left only Dartz and his 3 minions remained in the room. They all sat at the same table waiting for Leviathan to speak.

“Now then I think a proper introduction is necessary; I am the Great Leviathan. God of the Orichalcos and your new master. Of course, I know of my most faithful servant Dartz but tell me of your names.” he then gestured to the other three.

“Raphael” “Alister.” “Valon” all three spoke one after the other.

Leviathan nodded. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am sure you will serve me well. I am especially grateful to you Raphael. Were it not for your mistake I would have never found my chosen vessel.”

Raphael looked down slightly quite embarrassed to be called out like that.

“I assure you my Lord, they will not disappoint you again.” Dartz spoke up giving a sharp look to Raphael.

“I'm sure they will not Dartz. Any questions?”

Valon raised a hand and asked, “So how’s this whole 'host' thing work exactly?”

Leviathan grinned at him “I can speak to you all now because I have been able to attach myself to my host Yugi. The Orichalcos stone on my crown has granted this soul with opacity and tangibility. I can use many of my powers but sadly I am unable to unlock my full strength and scope without the souls of strong individuals.”

“The three chosen duellists.” Alister said.

“Exactly. Once I have all three of them in my possession I can finally awaken properly.” Leviathan let out a yawn and rubbed his eyes. “I still require more rest...In the meantime Dartz I'll entrust you once again to keep things running?”

“Of course, my Lord, you may rest. in the meantime, Raphael, escort our lord to his chambers and keep watch until I return.”

“Yes Master.” he answered and stood up following Leviathan out of the room.

Another yawn left the god's mouth, and he rubbed his eyes again as they walked down the halls. Once they reached the room Leviathan turned to Raphael and said quite coldly “You my stand guard here. Don't disturb me unless I call for you.”

The tall man bowed, and room door closed. He was already starting to become annoyed by this new “god”.

Yugi had started on a new puzzle game when he felt another presence enter his soul room; he looked back and saw a figured dressed exactly like him. Well, him but in the silly garb DOMA put him in, his hair was dark purple with blue bangs styled almost like his iconic hair, but he was lacking the crown Yugi was wearing, he also had a long dragons tail with a forked end.

“Hello Yugi, ~” Leviathan said smugly

Yugi rolled his eyes and turned back around trying to ignore him. Leviathan pouted his lips a bit and crossed his arms.

“You know it's rude to not acknowledge someone who has spoken to you human!”

“You know it's rude to enter someone else's soul without permission.” Yugi replied flatly

A growl left the gods lips “You insolent little pest! Do you know whom you're speaking to?”

“I don't care. Now please exit the way you came.” Yugi moved another piece of his puzzle into place still not looking back.

The god was now fuming “I am doing you a favour by trying to interact with you host! We are going to be partners! the least you can do is show some gratitude for the gesture!”

“You can do me a bigger favour by letting go of my soul and freeing me! If you won’t do that then we don't have much to talk about, do we? So just leave me alone.” Yugi waved off the god with a hand gesture that made Leviathan growl.

“I saved your worthless soul form becoming part of my void and this is how you treat my kindness? You could have just been another lost soul for me to devour but I recognized you! You're the one who played that insolent dragon Timaeus and destroyed my eye!”

“You don't know anything about kindness, and again if I'm so worthless then just let me go!” Yugi was now turned and faced Leviathan, his eyes where hard trying to look as intimating as he could.

“You're keeping me away form everything and everyone I care about, and you think locking me up in my own soul. alone. is some kind of mercy?! Just stick me back in the void with all the other souls you've stolen! I refuse to let you use my soul to help you further your own plans!” Yugi was panting now as slight tears started to peek out of the corner of his eyes.

Leviathan grinned rather smugly and tapped his lip a bit. “Your eyes are quite lovely when you're angry. I enjoy fuelling the rage in your heart...it only gives me more power!”

The room grew darker and colder all the toys seemed to vanish, and it was just a void now.

“Solitude is what you fear is it not?” his words started to echo around the room as the void grew larger around them.

Yugi was panting more as Leviathan seemed to be all around him his words coming form all directions louder and distorted.

“Perhaps I should leave you here to only imagine what I will do to your loved ones...”

More and more his soul room was growing darker he couldn't see anything but Leviathan's eyes glowing golden yellow in the dark.

“I can have my henchmen capture each and everyone of your friends and rip out their souls one by one. And for their last sight to be they're dear friend betraying them all~”

Yugi snapped jumping to his feet he screamed “NO! I won’t let you!”

He ran towards Leviathan's eyes who was expecting a swift punch to his face but only saw Yugi struggle to hold onto himself, his arms where shaking and his knees gave way again. He stared up at the god his eyes where full of tears and despair.

“I... I...” Yugi's words getting caught in his throat as he tried desperately to choke out the words.

Tears fell form his face landing on the ground as he lowered himself looking down at the growing pile of tears. “I can't do anything...I'm not strong enough...I-”

“I expect better form my vessel. Perhaps keeping you locked up is what's best.” Leviathan turned away ready to leave when Yugi suddenly jolted up his hand reaching out.

“W-Wait!”

Leviathan stopped and turned his head. “Yes?”

“I- I'm sorry! You were right I was rude to you! I'm just so...upset but I shouldn't take it out on you-you where kind enough to spare me right? So... Thank you?” Yugi stared with a hopeless plea “Please don't leave me here...please don't leave me alone...”

Leviathan turned fully and walked back to Yugi his hands behind his back “That's more like it. Now we really did get off on the wrong foot, didn't we? I wish to have a proper partnership with my vessel.”

The room started to grow lighter again the items beginning to return around them.

“Y-yes, we did. Let me start over” Yugi cleared his throat and extended his hand “Hello my name is Yugi Mutou. What's your name?”

The god looked down at his hand then back at the boy whose eyes held its kind light again but under his eyes was a hint of red form crying, he reached out and took his hand strongly.

“You may call me The Great Leviathan.”

“That's...quite a long name...”

“Hm yes it really is quite the mouth full, isn't it?”

“Uh is it okay if I just call you Leviathan? Or hey how about Levi? Since we are going to be partners now, we can be a little less formal around each other, right?” Yugi tried to keep the fear form surfacing all over his face.

The god thought for a moment and then smiled but it wasn't a warm smile it felt ice cold.

“Levi it is.”

To be Continued...

#yugi #yugioh #au #leviathan rising #doma #waking the draogns

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scribeforchrist-blog · 4 months

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The Art of Loving Others

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ Philippians 4:6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God

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VERSE OF THE DAY

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+ John 10:27 The man answered, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind.’ And ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM A GOOD SAMARITAN

I AM TRUSTING GOD

I AM LEAVING EVERYTHING TO GOD

I AM FINDING STRENGTH IN GOD

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THOUGHTS:

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Our neighbor can be the man we are drivng next to , it can be our co owrkers , it actually can be our actual neighbor we live by , how ever it may be we have to love them like we love ourselves , when I was in the world I use to love feeding homeless dogs I would carry bags of dog food and water in my truck so if I seen one that needed water and food I would stop and feed them , I wasn’t scared more about them, I’m more afraid of humans then animals.

I love animals, I’m a animal lover of all kinds and I have had reptiles , hamsters, guinea pigs, crabs, dogs all of them because I just love animals and the love they can give someone , with humans it was something different , you can give everything to a haman and they will still find somethig you did wrong they will find a way to turn against you and that was my idea of it that i didnt trust them at all and I trusted an aimal more.

Whatever trust issues we have, we must bring them to Jesus, and when I gave my life to Jesus, I gave him everything. I told him all my ugly sides, which I knew he knew, but I wanted him to see and know me, which I knew he did. Still, it was the point of just releasing all this to him because I knew he got me, and after a while, I began to understand that I have to love my neighbor as I love myself; how much do you love yourself? If we say we love God with all our heart, all our soul, all our strength, and all our mind, we must love our neighbor.

Luke 10 29: The man wanted to justify his actions, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

This man in this chapter wanted to know who was his neighbor. Jesus goes on to tell him a story about a man was beaten, robbed, and attacked, and they stripped him of his clothes and left him half dead. It was a priest; a Levite passed by him and ignored him; they didn't show pity at all, and you would think a priest would and a Levite would, but no, that's why we can't judge a book by its cover, we can't assume people with titles and people that are well known will do what's right no they ignored this man and walked around him, friends when we see someone in need we must stop and help or ask hey do you need help we can't walk around them and assume, we must show mercy to all.

Verse 33-34: A despised Samaritan came along, and when he saw the man, he felt compassion for him. 34 Going over to him, the Samaritan soothed his wounds with olive oil and wine and bandaged them. Then he put the man on his own donkey and took him to an inn, where he took care of him.

See, the Samaritan didn't know the man who was beaten, but he took time, and he soothed his wounds with olive oil, and he bandaged him; then he even got him a room to stay in because he wanted to make sure he was okay because that's the same respect that man wanted but sometimes we won't get what we give. We have to understand that we do it from our heart and do it unto God because if we wait on people to play it forward, we will be waiting a long time!

Verse 36-37 Now which of these three would you say was a neighbor to the man who was attacked by bandits?” Jesus asked.37 The man replied, “The one who showed him mercy.”Then Jesus said, “Yes, now go and do the same.”

Then Jesus asked him who do you think was this man's neighbor ? It was the man that took pity ,we have to learn how to show pity , pity is something we must show to everyone; we can't be these people who expect pity, and dont give any out because the same measure we measure someone else will be what we will get, we have to learn to help our neighbors and ask God to help us not to have trust issues, and we all have experienced a bad moment or situation, but we can't allow these things to have control over us any more surrender it all to God so that he can work on you.

*** Today we learned that that being a Good Samaritan isn’t about what others see , it isn’t about telling what have done , it’s about doing it in a way that pleases God. In the end of this story Jesus said this to every one ” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” He wants us to do what’s right , I hear people say they don’t know what’s right and wrong anymore but I have to say that in the good book you will find what’s right and you will find what’s wrong and if your lost on what that is open up your word and the Holy Spirit will show you the way !

©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

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PRAYER

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Heavenly Father thank you for everything, forgive us of the sins we have done help us to follow you and to love you with all our heart and all our soul. Help us to love our neighbors the same way that we want to be treated and it’s hard to show love to this world , it’s hard to love when we don’t get that same treatment back . It’s so hard to do this when people want to fight , and cause problems but help us to look past it all and help us to love to focus on you. We need you so badly to teach us and to show us the right way to go we ask that we don’t do things to show off but we do it in your glory and we live a life that pleases you in Jesus Name Amen

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REFERENCES

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+ Romans 13:10 Love worketh no ill to his neighbour: therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.”

+ Luke 6:27-28 But I say unto you which hear, Love your enemies, do good to them which hate you, Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you.

+ Matthew 5:44 But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you

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FURTHER READINGS

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PROVERBS 16

MATTHEW 2

EPHESIANS 4

2 SAMUEL 9

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#bible #bible quotes #christian quote #daily devotion #daily devotional #inspiration #scripture #bible verse #christian life #christan life #love #jesus loves you

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lesfeldickbiblestudy · 1 year

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Through the Bible with Les Feldick LESSON 1 * PART 2 * BOOK 61 THE CHOSEN NATION REDEEMED - PART 2 ISAIAH 42:8 – 45:3 Again, we always like to explain to our television audience, because every day we get new listeners, that we’re just an informal Bible study. I’m not some highfaluting scholar. I’m not going to be throwing a lot of Greek and Hebrew at you, but hopefully we can just sort the Scriptures out and compare Scripture with Scripture. And bring folks to the place where they can understand what the Bible really says. You know, a lot of these denominations have been so steeped in tradition that has been passed down from generation to generation that it’s come to the point they’ve forgotten what the Book says and all they really know is what the denomination says. Well, I’ll tell you right up front, when you come before the Lord, whether it’s the Bema Seat for the believer or the Great White Throne for an unbeliever, blaming your denomination for leading you astray is not going to cut anything with God, because you have the Word of God. You have it in your own hands, and you study to show yourself approved, and just see what the Word says and not what someone else says. I don’t want to even have someone say, "Well this is what Les Feldick says." No! You have to determine what the Word of God says. This is our whole premise. Take the doctrine of salvation, for example, and Paul gives us in this Age of Grace our instructions for salvation "You must believe in your heart that Jesus died for your sins, was buried, and rose again," plus nothing else! I Corinthians 15:1-4 and Romans 10:9-10. If your denomination is teaching you some other way to heaven than that, then you’d better examine yourself again! All right, we’re going to pick right up where we left off in the last program. We are still in Isaiah chapter 42 and remember in the last three or four words of verse 17 Israel, nationally now, is speaking to their idols saying: Isaiah 42:17b-19a "…Ye are our gods. (plural) (But God comes back and says:) 18. Hear, ye deaf; and look, ye blind, if you may see. 19. Who is blind, but my servant?..." Well, now, who’s the servant? Israel. Isaiah 42:19b-21 "…or deaf, as my messenger that I sent? Who is blind as he that is perfect, and blind as the LORD’s servant? 20. Seeing many things, but thou observest not; opening the ears, but he who heareth not. 21. The LORD is well pleased for his righteousness’ sake; he will magnify the law, and make it honorable." Now, here again, you’ve got to be reminded this is long after the Mosaic Law has been given. They’ve got the Torah. They’ve got the Ten Commandments. They’ve got the temple. They’ve got the priesthood. Yet, in spite of all that they are going deeper and deeper into idolatry. It’s just mind-boggling. Isaiah 42:22-25a "But this is a people robbed and soiled; they are all of them snared in holes. And they are hid in prison houses; they are for a prey, and none delivereth; for a spoil, and none saith, Restore. 23. Who among you will give ear to this? Who will hearken and hear for the time to come? 24. Who gave Jacob for a spoil, and who gave Israel to the robbers? Did not the LORD, (Who did? The Lord did in chastisement. Just read on.) he against whom we have sinned? (That is the Nation.) for they would not walk in his ways, neither were they obedient to his law. 25. Therefore…" Now, this is plain English. Because of their rebellion, because of their idolatry: Isaiah 42:25 "Therefore he hath poured upon him (that is the nation of Israel, now. We’re referring to it as Jacob or Israel.) the fury of his anger, the strength of battle and it has set him on fire round about, yet he knew not; and it burned him, yet he laid it not to heart." Now, you’ve got to stop and think. Come back up with me to Romans, chapter 11. I think maybe this is the easiest way to do this. Here Paul is referring back to Elijah. Now, I thought it would be easier to find Romans than it would I Kings, because I Kings

is where you have the Old Testament account of Elijah on Mount Carmel confronting the prophets of Baal. Now, remember Elijah lived 200 years before Isaiah. So, you see, time has been going by ever so slowly. Now, get your timeframe, again, that at 2000 BC you’ve got the call of Abraham, you’ve got the beginning of the nation of Israel. For 490 years, they first sojourned up and down the land of Canaan. Then the second half of that 490 they’re down in Egypt. That takes us up to about 1500 BC. We’ve lost about 500 years now from Abraham to Moses. They come out of Egypt and they are now the nation of Israel. All right, another 500 years go by under the judges and so forth until they have King David. King David rules about 1000 BC, halfway between Abraham and the cross. All right, David and Solomon both rule 40 years each. So, from 1000 BC until we get Elijah it’s only a hundred years, and look how far they’ve already gone done the pipe in that little while they have been a nation. All right, look how Paul refers to it, then, in Romans chapter 11. Let’s just jump down to verse 2. Romans 11 verse 2, where Paul says: Romans 11:2a "God has not cast away his people, whom he foreknew…." In other words, God knows what they’re going to do hundreds of years before they do it. God hasn’t cast them away. Romans 11:2b-4 "…know you not what the scripture saith of Elijah? How he maketh intercession to God against Israel, (against the nation) saying, 3. Lord, they have killed thy prophets, they have digged down (or they’ve torn down) thine altars; and I am left alone, (I’m the only one left!) and they seek my life. (Now, verse 4, but Paul reminds us:) 4. But what saith the answer of God unto him? (That is to Elijah. God tells Elijah) I have reserved to myself seven thousand men, who have not bowed the knee to the image of Baal." Well, what was Baal? A pagan idol. So, already, a hundred years after King David, the Nation has gotten to the place where Isaiah thinks he’s the only one left that hasn’t fallen to idolatry. But, God says, "No, I’ve got a remnant." That’s the way it’s always been. God has always kept that small percentage of Israelites, or Jews, however you want to refer to them, who remain true to Jehovah. But, for the most part, the Nation went down. Now, I know the average Jew probably would tell you that they’re going to be in eternity with us because they’re the children of Abraham. Well, I beg to differ, because there’s only a small remnant of Jews that were ever true believers. All right, now then Paul brings it on up to his own day and time. Back here in about the 58-59 AD, verse 5: Romans 11:5 "Even so then at this present time (while Paul is writing) there is also a (what?) remnant according to the election of grace." There is always that little remnant. So, there was a remnant in Paul’s day. All right, now drop down to verse 7. Romans 11:7 "What then? Israel (the Nation) has not obtained that which he seeketh for; but the election (the true believer, they) obtained it, and the rest were (what?) blinded." They were blinded. So, for the last 1900 and some years, that’s been the lot of the rank and file Jew. They are blind to the things of God. Even their Old Testament, they’ve got it all fouled up, because God has sovereignly blinded them. But, all right, now when you come back to Isaiah, you’ve got to constantly be reminded that even though God chastises the Nation as a whole, He has always had that remnant that remained true to Him. I think I can safely say this: because of the remnant they would finally come back to the place of blessing. Then, they would be blessed nationally for a period of time, and then it wouldn’t be long until, again, they would just sink down, for the most part, into a national point of unbelief. All right, now, let’s just move on into chapter 43. Again, God is going to constantly remind the Nation of Who He is. Now, you know, even today I often have to wonder just how many rank and file church members,

and I’m not going to even consider the non-churched world, but church people, how many of them really know who God is? Do they really have an understanding of His power? His might? His Sovereignty? His Omniscience? His Omnipotence? I’m afraid most don’t. God is just sort of a passing thought. Oh, He’s up there someplace. Yeah, He’s in control. But they really don’t know His power and His majesty. Well, Israel was no different. They were just blasé about it. So, God comes back and He is showing them who He really is. Isaiah 43:1a "But now…" Now, that reminds me, I’ve said, you know, that I’m probably going to put together some programs someday using the "But now’s" in Scripture. But the "But now’s" are really ‘the flipside.’ Here we’ve seen Israel steeped in idolatry. "But now" we’re going to see the real God, not the god of wood and stone, but the God of Creation. Isaiah 43 1a "But now, thus saith the LORD who created thee, O, Jacob, he that formed thee, O Israel, Fear not: for I have (what?) redeemed thee,…" Now, there comes that whole concept of redemption, that lost people, whether it’s Jew or Gentile, no matter what the person’s station in life, they’re in need of a spiritual redemption. So, this word is just throughout the fabric of the Old Testament that Israel was to be looking for their Redeemer. All right, we’ll come to it again when we get to chapter 59, if not today, at a later time. All right, so "I have redeemed thee." I have bought you back. Now, stop and think again, because after all, to get knowledge of Scripture you’ve got to constantly go back to your building blocks. That’s what Paul meant when he says in Romans 15:4 "all these things written beforehand were written for our (what?) learning." What does it rest on? What’s the foundation of all this? Well, let’s go back and just reconstruct. Here we have Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and the twelve sons. Now, that’s the beginning of the nation of Israel. Now, believe it or not, I’ve had people who have taught Sunday School for twenty years come up after one of my classes and ask me, "Where does the Jew come from?" Can you imagine that? I’ll be flabbergasted, but it’s happened more than once. Even though I’m flabbergasted, I get my cool back and I say; "Well, now the nation of Israel came with Abraham at 2000 BC, pulled off of the main stream of the Adamic race." All right, now here we’ve got Jacob and the twelve sons, but one of them, they think, is kind of a braggart. He kind of thinks he’s better than the other eleven. Who was it? Joseph. Finally, Joseph irritated them to such an extent, what did they do? They sold him into slavery. Now, even way back then who were the slave traders? Ishmaelites. Well, who are Ishmaelites? Arabs. And the world can’t get their eyes opened. They have always been the master slave traders, even today, the Muslim world practices slavery more than the rest of the world put together. Why can’t the world wake up? They are adamant in their slave trading. All right, so Joseph gets sold into slavery and he ends up down in Egypt. All right, now a lot of people can’t comprehend this. When the eleven brothers – now, of course, little Benjamin wasn’t intricately involved, but over all it was still a family deal – when the family sold Joseph down into slavery in Egypt, what happened between them and their God? Well, everything was broken. God lost them. Now, when God loses something like He lost the human race when Adam sinned, what does God have to do to get them back? Redeem them! That’s where the whole idea of redemption comes in. All right, now you’re back there in Egypt and God has lost the nation, but they’re still increasing in population. God is going to be watching over them, don’t think He won’t. Finally, when the right time comes, He’s going to set up a plan of what? Redemption. That’s what the book of Exodus is all about. The exodus out of Egypt is a redemption story. Now, how is He going to redeem the nation of Israel? The Passover Lamb, the blood.

When you’ve heard me teach Exodus, I always made the point that it has never changed, God’s plan of redemption has three things: it takes the blood, it takes an individual, and it takes the power of God. Now, they placed the blood on the doorpost on the night of the Passover. Moses was the deliverer, but when they get to the Red Sea and the sea opens up, who delivers the power to do it? God does. All right, now that’s the beautiful picture of redemption, no matter how you look at it. Whether it’s yours or mine or Israel’s it’s the same thing, it took the blood. The blood has the price of redemption. Jesus Christ was the person that God saw fit to be the deliverer and then at Resurrection morning it was the power of God that delivered it and brought the whole plan of Redemption to its completion. So, whenever you see this term redeemed, that’s what we’re talking about, how God paid the price of redemption to bring whoever it was that He lost back to himself. All right, so for Israel then, God redeemed them when He brought them out of Egypt. You would have thought that from that point on those Jews would have been loyal believers to the "nth" degree. But they weren’t. Only a small percentage, just like it is today. All right, now then let’s go back to Chapter 43:1. Isaiah 43:1b-4a "…Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have called thee by my name, thou art mine. 2. When thou passest through the waters, (I’m sure that’s a reference to the Red Sea.) I will be with thee, and through the rivers, (I think that’s a reference to the Jordan at flood time, when they came in under Joshua.) they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, (Well, who walked through the fire? The three Hebrews in Daniel) thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. (Why?) 3. For I am the LORD thy God, I am the Holy One of Israel, thy (what?) Saviour: (See how the language all fits?) I gave Egypt for your ransom, Ethiopia and Sheba for thee, 4. Since thou wast precious in my sight…" Now, this is God speaking with regard to His beloved, chosen people. You know that makes me stop and think. I read an article the other day, again by one of these scoffers. If God was such a God of love why did he permit His chosen people to suffer and suffer and suffer? Well, I’ll grant that’s a good, logical question, but the reason He allowed them to suffer is because of their wickedness and their unbelief that precipitated it. He never stopped loving them, yet He would bring in the chastisement. Isaiah 43:5a "Fear not:… Sound familiar? It’s exactly what Paul writes in Hebrews. "Fear not: I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." Isaiah 43:5-6a "Fear not: for I am with thee: I will bring thy seed from the east, and gather thee from the west; 6. I will say to the north, Give up; and to the south, Keep not back:…" Sound familiar? Well, that’s exactly what has happened since 1900. Same thing. The Jews have been coming back from the four corners of the earth, back to the homeland, Providentially. I think I said it in the last program, if you really stop to analyze it, what a miracle! They’ve been scattered into the nations of the world. They’re few in number. Yet God is bringing them back against all odds. All right, now He didn’t do it just once. He’s already done it twice, and now of course, the next time they’re going to be there to stay. All right, reading on in verse 7. Isaiah 43:7a "Every one that is called by my name: for I have created him for my glory," He’s not talking about the pagan Gentiles. He’s not talking about you and me. He’s talking about Israel. All right, verse 8. Isaiah43:8 "Bring forth the blind people that have eyes, and the deaf that have ears." A contradiction? No. Physically they’ve got ears. Physically they’ve got eyes. But spiritually what are they? Deaf and blind. It’s no different today. It’s not one bit different today. People have got ears to hear. They’ve got eyes to see. But will they? Oh, I hear it constantly like I shared with you in the studio before we started today, once they see this.

Now, this gentleman, I’m not going to put it out publicly, but this gentleman I talked to you about in the studio, I can guarantee you that when he goes back to his own people with these things that he has now seen so clearly, they’re going to think he’s lost it! They’re going to think he’s out of his cage. I’ve got people here who already know what I’m talking about. Why? People do not want to see what the Word says; they’re satisfied with tradition. They want to stay in their semi-darkness rather than see the light. We hear it all the time. Isaiah 43:9a "Let all the nations be gathered together, and let the people be assembled: who among them can declare this and show us former things?..." Who among the Children of Israel has the knowledge that their God has? Not a one. You know even Job had to find that out, didn’t he? You know, I’m careful when I say this, but when you think of Job, I think the guy was proud. I think Job thought he had it made, but when he was confronted with the Omnipotent God, what did Job have to realize? He was nothing! When he got to that realization, what did he have to do? Repent in dust and ashes. All right, now Israel is the same way. They were proud of the fact that they were God’s chosen people, and yet they didn’t take that into consideration when they started following idols. All right, read on, verse 10, oh, I’d better finish verse 9. Isaiah 43:9 "Let all the nations be gathered together, let the people be assembled: who among them can declare this and show us former things? Let them bring forth their (what?) witnesses, that they may be justified: or let them hear, and say, It is (what?) truth." That’s what counts. Truth. What’s truth? The Word of God. Everything else becomes just so much vapor, it just disappears, but the Word of God is truth. Isaiah 43:10a "You are my witnesses, (God says to Israel. They alone had a knowledge of the One True God) saith the LORD, and my servant whom I have chosen:…" What is the term again? Servant. What’s the role of a servant? He is to carry out the bidding of the master. Isaiah 43:10b-11 "…that you may know and believe me, (that’s faith, remember) and understand that I am he: (That is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.) before me there was no God formed, neither shall there be after me. 11. I, even I, am the LORD; and beside me there is no saviour." Sound familiar? How did Peter put it in the book of Acts? "There is no other name given among men under heaven whereby we must be saved." How does Paul put it? "There is no other name, but at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow." All of Scripture declares that – Old and New. All right, reading on, verse 12. Isaiah 43:12 "I have declared, and have saved, and I have showed, when there was no strange god among you: therefore you are my witnesses, saith the LORD, that I am God." That was Israel’s role. That’s why God spent so much time with them and delivered them out of Egypt, gave them the priesthood, and gave them the tabernacle worship, so they could be a testimony to the pagan world around them. Isaiah 43:13-15 "Yea, before the day was I am he; (I am your God) and there is none that can deliver out of my hand: I will work, and who shall let it? (or permit it?) 14. Thus saith the LORD, your redeemer, (See, there it is again, the One who has bought you back.) the Holy One of Israel; For your sake I have sent to Babylon, and have brought down all their nobles, and the Chaldeans, whose cry is in the ships. 15. I am the LORD, your Holy One, the creator of Israel, your (what?) King." Remember what Isaiah said a couple of programs back? "I saw the Lord of Glory, I saw the (What? You remember?) King." Oh, indeed He’s Israel’s King. Oh, He’s not active yet but He will be. That’s all future. But one day, He’s going to be Israel’s King and you see that in Revelation when it says what at the Second Coming? "And on His thigh is written King of Kings and Lord of Lords." He’s never accomplished that role before. But, He’s coming and Israel is to be a witness of all that.

All right, verse 16 and our time is running out. Isaiah 43:16-17 "Thus saith the LORD, who maketh a way in the sea, and a path in the mighty waters; 17. Who bringeth forth the chariot and the horse, the army and the power;" In other words, when the Chaldeans, the Babylonians, come marching in against Jerusalem, who is bringing it about? The God of Glory! Israel’s God as a chastisement for their idolatry.

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queensoybean0724 · 3 years

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Succession Chapter 20 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Title: Succession Chapter 20

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, the Duke

Rating: PG-13

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary. While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction. Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter 20

Heisenberg pulled a clean undershirt from the tall, five-drawer chest next to the bed. You lay naked, your head in your hand and your elbow on the pillow. The sheets were pulled up over your breasts as you watched him put on his clothes. Despite lots of begging and pouting from you, Heisenberg had to attend to his metal army and continue his work of vengeance on Mother Miranda.

As much as you loved watching him remove his clothing, there was something equally arousing watching him put on his clothing. He stepped into his underwear and khaki pants, grabbing his belt and sliding it through the pant loops. He pulled the undershirt over his head and buttoned up the khaki shirt, tucking them both into his pants. The three items he always kept around his neck were next, followed by his hat. His sunglasses followed and lastly, his long overcoat. The ensemble was complete.

Heisenberg sat next to you on the edge of the bed, putting on his socks and boots. “I need to continue my work down in the lab, but I need supplies from the Duke. He’ll be here in a few hours. But time is of the essence and what I have to accomplish will take all day,” Heisenberg said. The last few days were less working in his factory and more fucking your brains out. He wasn’t complaining in the least, but he knew that lots of work still needed to be done and he wasn’t forgetting the inevitable clash between him and Miranda. The feeling in his gut was growing; the battle needed to be fought and he needed to vanquish her.

“Well, why don’t you give me a list and I can get everything from the Duke,” you offered as you sat up in bed, “and while I’m there, I would like to see if he can get any toiletries and other items I’m running low on…”

Heisenberg was quiet for a moment as he tied his boots. You could see him mulling over things in his head...whether or not he should let you go on this little excursion. Everything he needed were things that he had bought several times over, so he knew the Duke would know exactly what was on the list. But the worry of you running away was always in the back of his mind. He felt certain that with everything that had happened between you and him and the confession of love on both sides that you wouldn’t want to leave even if the opportunity presented itself. Heisenberg knew that you would get what was needed and return to the factory. But there was also the possibility of Mother Miranda snatching you the moment his back was turned. He would never forgive himself if she got her hooks into you and used you for one of her sick, delusional experiments in order to get Eva back.

In the end, he did trust you and he wanted to show you that trust.

“Okay, I’ll give you a list,” Heisenberg said, “just give it to the Duke and he’ll know exactly what I need. But the moment you are finished, march right back to the factory. Close and lock the doors and hit the red button to the right. It will signal an alarm and let me know that you are safe…”

“I promise,” you said.

Heisenberg smiled and leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. You lifted your hands to his face, moaning softly. The sheets fell into your lap, showing your tits to Heisenberg. A soft giggle lodged in your throat as he opened his eyes and looked down. He growled softly and broke the kiss.

“Such a cock tease,” he muttered playfully.

You chuckled as Heisenberg went to the table, grabbed a piece of paper, and wrote his list of supplies.

The sliding double doors were heavy and it took a lot of your strength to push them open one by one. The biting cold air rushed through the doors and nearly took your breath away. It was cloudy and chilly. The wind gusted in the distance. You hadn��t been here that long, but long enough that you could tell snow wasn’t too far off. Zipping your oversized jacket and making sure your wool gloves were on your hands, you exited the factory and made your way to the gate.

The Duke was seated in the back of his carriage and waiting as always. You smiled and waved as you got closer to him. Heisenberg had opened the gates earlier before making his way down into the depths of his factory.

“Well, good morning, Y/N,” the Duke greeted, a smile on his face, “is it just you today? Is Lord Heisenberg not going to grace me with his presence?”

You shook your head, digging in your pants pocket for the list. “Not today. He’s busy and I told him I could get everything.”

“That’s fine with me...gives us some time to get to know one another…” he smiled. You stood on your tiptoes and handed the Duke the list. “Oh yes,” he said, looking over the items, “these are supplies that Lord Heisenberg is always in need of. I know them all very well.”

The Duke handed you a burlap sack and showed you all of the things that Heisenberg needed. One by one, you placed the items in the bag. You also looked around at things that might catch your eye. Thankfully, the Duke had toiletries and supplies that you needed. You placed them in the sack along with the rest.

“Duke,” you began, “I also wanted to see if you could help me with something. I wanted to do something nice for Karl. Do you have anything that he likes that he doesn’t always purchase? Maybe ingredients for a meal that he likes to splurge on from time to time?”

The Duke thought for a moment. “I do happen to know that Tochitura de Pui is one of his favorite dishes! I can’t remember the last time he bought ingredients for that meal. Here…” he handed you a rectangular piece of paper with ingredients and directions for preparation. The Duke went through the recipe and gave you all the products needed, giving you instructions on how to prepare it. “Also…” he added, “another thing he doesn’t splurge on often is Asbach Uralt! It’s a German brandy that his father and grandfather loved. Lord Heisenberg buys a bottle of this a few times a year. This would be a lovely surprise for him...and coming from you, it would make his day!”

He handed you the bottle of the alcohol and you inspected the writing. It was in German, of course, but it filled you with excitement. Heisenberg had cooked for you ever since he brought you to the factory. Aside from the occasional meals you fixed yourself when he was off working, it was always him cooking. You wanted to do this….to cater to him and make him happy with something he loved and would never see coming.

“Thank you so much for everything, Duke,” you said as you reached into your pockets, “I have some American currency, I hope you can use it or exchange it…”

“Not necessary,” he said, putting up his hand to stop you.

“Oh, please, take it,” you insisted, “you let me have that bracelet that I gifted to Salvatore. I insist you take this!”

“Y/N,” he began, “I am more than happy to help you free of charge. I do feel sorrow for the circumstances that brought you here. I can’t imagine how traumatic a plane crash is. But in the few times I have seen you here with Lord Heisenberg, I can sense a difference in him. For years, he has been unhappy. I assume he has told you what happened to him…”

You nodded your head.

“...then you know the horrors he has seen as a young child and growing up under the rule of Mother Miranda. It has hardened his mind and his heart. But since you have been here, I’ve noticed that icy exterior he has put up has slowly begun to melt. You are a kind woman, Y/N, and you two are good for each other. Consider these supplies as payment from me…”

You had to swallow the lump that formed in your throat. The kindness and generosity he has shown you had not gone unnoticed. Between him, Heisenberg, and Moreau, you have been lucky enough to see the small ounce of good this village had to offer.

“Thank you so much, Duke,” you said, “and if there is anything I can do for you, please let me know…”

The Duke smiled. “Of course, I will. Is there anything else you might need from me?”

“I think that’s it,” you smiled, holding the bottle of Asbach Uralt in one hand and pulling the hefty sack over your shoulder, “I’ll see you later! Goodbye!”

“Take care,” he said as you closed the gate behind you. He watched you walk up the path to the factory, making sure you were okay. Once inside, you gently placed the sack and the bottle on the ground and closed the sliding double doors, locking them securely. Lastly, you pressed the red button, alerting Heisenberg that you were safe and sound.

Heisenberg was pouring liquid metal into the press, making a cog for a broken machine. He smiled when he heard the alarm.

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #resident evil heisenberg #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #daddy heisenberg #heisenberg #house heisenberg #succession fanfic #succession heisenberg fanfic #resident evil 8 #resident evil viii #lord heisenberg

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obae-me · 3 years

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Upside Down CH-1

Author’s Note: Hi, yes, hello, welcome to the fic series that no one asked for! Do I have other things I need to finish? Yes! But has this been the only thing on my mind for the past four days? Also yes! For some reason I was incapable of writing anything else! Thanks, brain, for this out of the blue obsession!

Tags: Reverse AU

Word Count: 4587

Next Chapter

Hell Away From Hell

Wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was a mistake. It had to be. Although, with every clink of your restraints, your reality was becoming ever clearer. The chains rattled, echoing down the hall like a set of twisted wind chimes. Ones that sung of your dismal fortune. The demon ahead of you yanked the lead attached to your cuffs, sending you stumbling forward. You bit your lip to keep from cursing. Steading your body, you took their less-than-subtle message and picked up the pace. Keeping your eyes glued towards your destination, your stomach sank to your knees. Why? Why had you been brought to the castle? You hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, not anything to warrant being escorted by the palace guards in chains. And as they led you silently inside, past the polished halls and gaudy antiques, your fate pounded just fervently in your mind as your heart was in your chest.

They were going to present you in front of the prince.

It was torture in and of itself just making it to the throne room. The worst part about it all was your rampant imagination. You could only imagine what type of horrific techniques the prince was aware of. Halting in front of the large double doors, the demon behind you moved to open the entrance. Holding it open, the guard tugging you along guided you in. You managed to take only a few steps inside the room before you were practically thrown inside, your body tumbling over the ground. Both the guards smirked at you, flashing their pointed fangs in their conceited gestures before shutting the door, leaving you alone inside.

“MC.” All the air inside your lungs had conveniently escaped. Lifting your chest off the ground, you tightened your lips as you met his gaze. Those glistening emerald eyes pierced right through you. Quickly, you lowered your eyes, attempting to show as much respect as you could to gain his favor.

“M-my lord.”

The melodic note that left his throat was a mix between a laugh and a coo. “Now, now, none of that groveling. I had you brought here to ask you a favor!” You could hear him stand to his feet, and you watched his shoes approach, clicking against the marbled tile. Then, you felt the smooth skin of his hand caress your right horn. The sudden sensitive feeling had your tail rapidly twitch and tuck under your leg. He pushed your horns back, raising your chin so you could look up at him. His dark hair drifted down across his forehead, curling around his horns that curved above his head like a broken halo, his face soft and inviting, and yet your gut wouldn’t let you believe it. “Please, from now on, just call me Simeon.”

Simeon hummed as he lifted his tea cup to his lips. He had been hospitable enough, but you still couldn’t shake this feeling of unease. Plus...what he had brought you in to ask you was...well, something short of insanity. You continued to rub your wrists where your constraints had been. And as much as the prince of hell apologized for his guard’s brutish behavior, you had a feeling it was purposeful. A message of sorts. Even now, as he had his little servant bring in sweets and tea as sickly sweet as it could get, it all tasted bitter to your tongue. “So let me get this straight,” you started. “You want me to be a member of this…”

The prince tilted his head, eyes practically shining. “Restoration program.”

You cleared your throat after the little scone this blonde demon had given you made your throat run dry. “R-right. And I’m assuming I don’t have a choice in the matter?”

His voice was soft, but the light reflecting off his horns and his fangs suggested another answer. “We all have choices, MC.”

Swallowing your nervousness, you lowered your head again. “But, with all due respect, sir...why? Why a restoration program?”

Another voice chuckled behind your figure. “Because, why not?” You strained your neck, getting a view at the newcomer behind you. White hair, a mischievous smile, and something unknown swimming at the back of those dark eyes. Not only that, but the figure was wearing clothes as pure as clouds, with a certain glow to him.

Simeon stood, hand out to greet this person as if they were an old friend-and for all you knew, they might’ve been. “Solomon, how good to see you.”

The new guest-now known to you as Solomon-beamed. “Likewise. You’re looking well.” He turned, giving you a once-over to take you in before nodding. “And you are MC, yes?”

Glaring, already feeling your skin about to burn, you leaned away from him. “And you’re an angel.” Your distrustful attitude let him frown for just a moment, but whether it was just his angelic nature or his personality, that smile was right back on his face.

“Yes, well, the plan requires an angel, so Simeon personally asked me for my hand in this matter.”

The both of them could tell that you were unbelievably confused, so Simeon gestured for the angel to take a seat at the table. “Luke.” The prince gestured to his small servant, the one who had not only brought you sweets but had taken the liberty to be staring you down the entire time. Finally, he turned his attention away from you. “Please do me a favor and get our new guest some refreshments.” The lesser demon squinted at you, nearly growled at the angel, and then took his leave with rapid little steps. Simeon laughed quietly to himself. “Don’t worry about him, he’s not used to others quite yet. But, MC.” With your name mentioned, you straightened your posture. “I’ve been planning this for quite some time. It’s been a desire of mine to bring the three realms closer together.” You couldn’t help but wonder why, what purpose it served, but you kept your mouth shut. “And while I’ve started to make decent progress fixing the old wounds between the Devildom and Celestial Realm, most of my kingdom and Solomon’s people refuse to make connections with the humans.”

Mortals...even just the mention managed to leave a heavy pit in your stomach. “If I may speak.” You waited for the prince’s go-ahead before speaking your mind. “What would be the point of connecting with the humans? They serve little purpose. They’re either so corrupt they destroy their own kind or they think they’re so pure they isolate themselves or get themselves killed in the name of their twisted justice.” Speaking so passionately against the idea, you didn’t realize your nails had grown into talons, leaving marks in the wooden table. You took a breath, reclaiming your typical form. “They can’t even do themselves any good, what makes you think they’d be good for our realms?”

Solomon, an expression of understanding mixed with pity, bounced a little in his seat. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” He turned his head to Simeon, who was nodding at you with a bit of approval.

“That’s what this plan is all about. Testing them, observing them. We’ll be watching these humans, and at the end of this project, we’ll be able to determine if they’re ready and worthy of being brought together with us.” The ruler crossed one leg over the other, his tone making it sound as it was as simple as eating pie.

Setting down the fork to your pastry, you felt a sense of dread wash over you. “And by we you mean?”

“Why, you and Solomon of course! A demon and an angel, both working together to restore the bond between the human world and ours! The Demonic and Angelic Restoration program! Or D.A.R. -dare- for short.” If it weren’t for the horns, you’d almost think this demon was an angel with the way he eagerly talked about restoring bonds and bettering the nature of the realms. But, then you felt nauseous.

“What...what exactly do you need me to do to help with this...program? And why me?”

It was actually the angel that spoke up. “I’m sure you’re aware of the Morningstars?”

It was such a silly question, you ended up scoffing. “Who doesn’t down here? Those brothers are filled with so much corruption and chaos they end up fueling about half the lesser demons down here...why?”

They both straight up ignored your question and instead asked you some of their own. Simeon leaned forward, looking at you intently. “It took me quite a bit of time to find you MC. Most people don’t know you exist, and those that do hardly know your name. You simply are known to most as Isolation. Is it true that you’ve never made a pact with a human? Rumor is that you even refuse to subsist off their sins. And you’ve never taken a soul? That’s typically unheard of nowadays.”

Shifting in your seat, you gave it to them straight. “It’s true. I do whatever I can to avoid contact. Haven’t even seen a human in the past millennia. Haven’t talked to one in about twice that time.”

Clapping his hands together, Simeon let out an amazed sigh. “Perfect. You will be able to have a fresh eye! A clean slate. An unbiased--well, mostly unbiased opinion. You won’t be tempted to corrupt them, you’ll give me honest answers.”

“Plus,” the angel agreed, “if you have the strength and willpower to live without human sustenance and influence for this long, you probably will have the patience to keep from killing them. If anyone could manage to live with the Morningstars, it would be you, from what I’ve heard.”

You were grateful you had put down your drink a while ago. Your breath caught in your throat. “Wait, excuse me, what did you say? Live...with the…”

“Mr. Morningstar!” A laugh, a handshake, even a pat on the shoulder, it nearly made you ill watching the upcoming king of the Devildom greet a human like this so casually. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at this mortal...one of the Morningstars, the eldest. The one who fueled the most demons without even knowing about it. People down in the Devildom called him by Pride. A human world CEO-whatever that meant. He was powerful, influential, not to mention ridiculously rich. And he’d do whatever it took to keep his status, even at the misfortune of plenty of other people. His suit and posture told you pretty much all you needed to know about him. A fancy well tailored pitch black suit, a striking red tie with a subtle but regal diamond design, diamond cufflinks, the works. It was as if dust and winkles knew to avoid him entirely. His hair was as dark as his suit, save for the ends which were greying. He didn’t seem that old, so you wondered if it was intentional or simply stress. You thought you heard someone say that once, that humans could get grey hair from stress. Did they all possess capabilities to change their hair based on their emotions? That human lady you saw outside the building with the blue hair must’ve been feeling something intense.

“Mr-” The human you had come to see was cut off.

“Please, you know to call me Simeon by now!”

The mortal cleared his throat. “Simeon…” The human glanced at you, and raised his chin as he took Simeon by the shoulders and brought him away from you. If you had been a human, it would’ve been a decent tactic to keep you out of earshot. Unfortunately, you could still hear everything they were saying. “I know you have good standing with the company, and I’m pleased to know you respect and trust me with such a task, but...this is far from business.” You could feel his eyes on you. “I have to respectfully decline your request. I don’t think I can allow them to live with us for a year. You know my family.”

“It would only be for a year, and I know you have plenty of room in that house of yours!” Simeon laughed a bit and then lowered his voice. You could feel the alluring pull of his influence flood the space. The human stiffened, his intuition picking up on a shift in the room. “Besides, Lucifer. You know I wouldn’t ask for a favor like this without some proper and well deserved remuneration. Listen...I happen to have something on the head of that business owner that’s been butting heads with your company. Wouldn’t it be nice to have them completely out of the picture? Not only is that increasing your profit, but if they happen to...I don’t know, completely go bankrupt, that little building of theirs on the corner of Main is some prime real estate.” Reaching into his pocket, Simeon pulled out a small...plastic...rectangle of sorts, with metal on one end. “I got everything right here.” Smiling, one hand firmly against Lucifer’s upper back, he looked him right in the eyes and whispered something you knew would have this human caught. “You can’t let them bother you like this. You need to show them and everyone else who you are, and that you’re not to be messed with.”

It took the mortal a moment of internal struggle. Decline the offer and figure things out himself without assistance? Or swallow the smallest bit of ego for self satisfaction? Either way, this mortal was past helping. Already drowning in pride. Eventually, he gripped the object, tucking it into a pocket beneath his suit jacket. Despite being handed assistance, he still found a way to be demanding. “Alright, but no more than a year, and if I feel like anything is going awry, I’m sending them away. Is it really too unreasonable to just set them up on their own? Surely for you it’s no problem.”

Backing up slightly after his incentive worked, Simeon shook his head. “I would feel endlessly guilty leaving alone, desolate, isolated, after what happened. Poor thing...they haven’t even said a word to me in days.” That last part wasn’t a lie. You’d nearly refused to say anything to him since being dragged to the human world. Prince or no prince. “My poor cousin, suddenly losing all their family like that. It’s tragic, isn’t it? Losing people you love?”

Lucifer, with his arms folded, let his hand tightly grip the fabric of one of his sleeves. His eyes lowered the slightest touch, his jaw tightening. “It...is...I know it all too well.” You caught a hint of some emotion from the mortal.

“Then you know that what would be best for them right now is company. Trust me, I wouldn’t have brought them to you if I didn’t think it would help. Besides, this is a win for all parties involved, right?” Simeon gestured to the gift Lucifer had tucked away, and the last string of resistance had been snipped.

Sighing, the human looked at the luxurious watch on his wrist. “I’ll take them home. Let my brothers know what’s happening. Is it too much to assume they’ll be better behaved with a guest in the house?”

Laughing once more, the prince shrugged. If only Lucifer knew who he was in the presence of. “You’ll all just have to find out!” Patting the other man on the shoulder, Simeon then came over to you with his arms outstretched. “It’s all settled, MC!” He pulled you into a hug, taking the time to speak quietly to you. “Remember to keep your identity a secret. I’ll be checking up on you and Solomon once a month for a report. Keep them safe. Play nice.” He pulled apart, coming around behind you and settling his hands on your shoulders. “And remember, what Mr. Morningstar is doing is unbelievably nice, so make sure to thank him and keep yourself out of trouble.”

You broke your vow of silence out of irritation. “I’m not a child you’re sending away to school. I know how to keep my own head on my shoulders.” You attempted to brush his hands off but the grip was tightened. Swallowing your frustration, you kept yourself from grimacing, looking at the fabled Lucifer Morningstar. “Thank you...for letting me live with you.”

For a human, he had a tenacity for picking up on things. He noticed your lie, giving you a stare down of his own before grabbing his phone. You only recently figured out what those devices were. Simeon had made sure he gifted you one of your own, since apparently it was the main source of communication in this realm. Too strange, but you picked it up fairly quickly. Lucifer just raised his head and pressed his cell against his ear. “Just make sure you refrain from being as irksome as my brothers.” The line he was dialing picked up. “Yes, have a driver prepare to come pick me up. And someone please contact my brothers for me so they know I’m bringing home a...guest.”

It was going to be a long year…

The...metal contraption rumbled, making your head feel light. Without magic to get around, they had to use...these things. The movement slowed till it came to a stop. Looking out the pane of glass, you peered forward to see what the issue was. A big red circular light shone a bright crimson in front of the lane. Was it a threat? If so, why was the world seemingly filled with them? Then the eye turned green and the long carriage rumbled back to life. It was completely different than the last time you had been here.

“Before you even step foot in my home, we need to set some ground rules.” Even just the sound of his voice almost physically rubbed you the wrong way. You bit the inside of your cheek. Play nice, the prince had said. How long could you keep your patience around these mortals? You looked up at him, feeling him stare you down to the corrupt depths of your soul. “Since you’re going to be living with us for so long, you’re going to have to follow the same rules I give my brothers? Understand?”

Was this all worth it? Would having your soul be torn to shreds be that bad? “Yes.”

He nodded, then decided his attention would be better focused towards whatever he had on that electronic device of his. He gave you orders without even looking at you. No wonder all the lesser demons who fawned after him were so pretentious. “No parties. No pets. You can stay up however long you want, but you must be back at the house no later than midnight. You can have your own room but you must keep it clean, don’t expect me to hire a maid for you. You’re responsible for looking after yourself. I might be providing a roof over your head, but anything you need is up to you. You break anything, you’re responsible for replacing it. Just use the basic level of common sense and we should have no trouble. Hopefully the year will be over before we—oh excuse me.” Without another word he picked another call, his third one since you’d been blackmailed into this ride. You just gave a gentle sigh and stared out the window. Just a few days ago you’d still existed in your botherless existence. A personal utopia of your own making. Now you were in this...hell away from hell, the scent of smog and exhaust still burning the inside of your nose.

The rest of the ride was spent with you trying to think of ways to escape this fate, but finding none in sight. You didn’t need to fully see the building to get this overwhelming wave of impurity. The tempting allure of sin. Practically a demon buffet. These morons were just screaming to be killed or worse, eaten. Even just approaching the gate to the driveway, you could see remnants of spirits, demons without full forms clawing at the fence. Wisps of black sinking into their sidewalk. But not even those, you could smell the presence of other lesser demons...but more dangerous ones. Outside the gate were small crowds, not too many, but enough to safely conceal their presence. Photographers, journalists, fans, wherever they were, they were eager to get in. And amongst the rabble stood demons pretending to be mortals in an attempt to sink their fangs into one of the Morningstars. You slunk down in your seat, trying to conceal your presence, but you were sure they’d be able to feel you. The car slipped past all of them, approaching the first set of gates. Whoever was patrolling the vehicle pressed their fingers against a small pad attached to a pillar by the gate. It waited for a moment, then made an affirming noise before the gate swung open. The cries of mortal and hidden demons alike pleading for the smallest sliver of attention from this human made you feel sick.

Despite having nearly ignored you the whole time, Lucifer scoffed. “You’ll get used to it.” The curved metal fence shut behind you, and the sound of the crowd slowly faded as you pulled up in front of the massive house. If anything, it reminded you a little of home. It was an old fashioned looking house, but fanciful nonetheless. With dark stone, piercing towers, arched windows, and an overall gothic aesthetic. You managed to take a moment to breathe. At least there was one silver lining. Lucifer stepped out of the idle vehicle first, paying you no mind as he approached the steps to the door. Slightly panicking, you tried simply pushing the door before noticing the small handle. Pulling it unlocked it, and you rapidly exited, feeling the motion sickness fade with your feet on the ground. You followed the mortal to the door, and was slightly pleased when he put his phone away to open the door, leaving it open for you. Lucifer shut the door, a small high pitched noise ringing through your ears. You turned and watched him mess with a little panel near the door. “Our security is top of the market. I make sure the code is changed every day, so if you’re not inside by midnight, I hope you enjoy camping.”

You were about to speak up about that, but both of you were bombarded with noise. A noise you would later learn to get used to. “Oi! Lucifer!” A bundle of energy came racing down the stairs. Wild hair, dark skin, rings on nearly every finger, you recognized this individual without having to ask his name. You could feel the influence. Greed. Demons almost loved this brother more than Pride, because from what you’d heard, he’d make deals impulsively with demons without knowing their true intentions. As long as money or something expensive was in front of him, he’d jump for anything. It had gotten him in more than enough trouble, and it made him too much of a prime target. At least Lucifer knew how to look over his shoulder. The second brother confronted the eldest. He didn’t even glance at you. “Hey, I need some cash! For some reason my card keeps declining...you can spot me right?”

Lucifer didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

“Eh? Why not?! I did that thing the other day for you, remember?”

“Hm?” Lucifer tilted his head, taking the time to recall-or pretending to. “Which thing would that be? Would it have been before or after you stole and immediately maxed out my card?” Lowering his eyes, the older one gave off a menacing smile.

Mammon took a step back, muttering. “O-oh you found about that, huh?”

The smile turned into a full on yell. “Of course I found out! I got a call from the bank as soon as they saw the purchase! What exactly do you need a golden tiger statue for, Mammon? Seriously, you’re absolutely ridiculous! I returned it by the way, and in the meantime I cancelled all your cards.” Mammon went to open his mouth in anger but didn’t have the chance to say anything. “You can try to find some extra work to pay off all the bills you’ve left me with. And if I think you’re ready, I’ll reopen your accounts in two months.” The effort of shouting sent Pride’s eye twitching. He lifted a hand to press against his forehead, the blood draining from his face. You shifted ever so slightly in your spot and he groaned. “Right, you’re here. Mammon, this is MC.”

Eyebrows raised, he jumped a little when he finally spotted you were in the room. “Wait, wait, wait, that whole thing with someone staying with us for a year wasn’t a joke?”

“No.” Although the slight warble to his voice seemed that that fact was just now settling in. “It wasn’t. And since you’ve so kindly volunteered yourself, you can take their bags and show them to their room.” He simply turned. No welcome, no tour, no warmth in those cold eyes of his.

“Hey! Come back here!” Yet the younger sibling showed no signs of chasing after him. “Lucifer!” His older brother just quickly headed up the stairs and disappeared into the house. Was it really going to require a full year of observation? Just from what you were seeing right now, you wanted nothing to do with humans. Nothing. Mammon ran a hand through his hair, one of his strands getting stuck in one of his rings, but he tugged it out without noticing, like it was a daily occurrence. “I can’t believe this.” You could watch as the anger started to swell within him. “Screw this, I’m out of here!” You were ready for him to leave, to give into his emotions. He had wrapped his hand around the door handle before he stopped. Pausing, he just tutted to himself before shoving his hands in his jacket-pockets, looking in your direction but not fully at you. “You want the guest room we have upstairs or down?” Loud, brash, rude in some ways, but there was a weird sort of innocence about him. You simply shrugged. He nodded, grasping one of your bags suddenly, gesturing you to follow. “I’ll give you the downstairs one. Most of our rooms are on the second floor, so it’s a bit quieter down here, plus it stays cooler.” He led you past the entrance hall and back into the rest of the house. “Plus, it’s easier to sneak out from here, but you didn’t hear that from me. I’m guessing Lucifer gave you the whole rule spiel?”

You restrained the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah.”

He hissed in air through his teeth. “Sucks, man, are you sure you want to stay here?”

The pain around your wrists was still too prominent. Etched into your skin was a mark, a line of runes and symbols around your wrists. Who knew demons could give temporary pacts to other demons? Simeon ensured you a small fraction of his power, just in case you ran into trouble. But in exchange he had a hold on you, able to summon you to him whenever he needed you. It was your chain keeping you imprisoned here. There was no running. There was no hiding. “I didn’t have a choice.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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theghostofblackbunnymask · 3 years

Text

Even A Devil Can Break- Chapter 1 (Y!Casino! Quackity x Female Reader

Chapter 1 (Currently Reading) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 (In The Works)

Summary Of The Story- Y/N was friends with Quackity ever since they were kids, but once Las Nevadas gets formed Quackity finds out about Y/N's greatest strength, which makes him use her for his own benefit, not caring if he traumatized his main obsession.\

Summary Of Chapter- Just small parts of childhood and the rest is when they’re adults.

Word count- 1,495

Warnings- manipulation, Blackmail, Schlatt (His character can be triggerng)

Author’s Note- This is based on the characters they play, NOT the people themselves

Y/N walked out of her home with their torn up black and white bunny in their hands, their mother, Hope, telling them to be back before sundown. Y/N’s devil-like tail swung back and forth as she walked into the beautiful forest that was nearby. Her brother, Ben, older than her by 5 years, was in a nearby Village hanging out with his friends, and her mother and father were baking in the kitchen. Y/N sat at the beautiful stream that was far into the forest, watching fish and squid go by. Y/N heard twigs being broken, and it was coming from a big tree next to her, she looked up and out came a yellow winged boy. The boy looked up and Y/N’s unreadable face and her tail swung in curiosity, her horns glowing F/C, and her small demon wings going up a bit.

“Hello!” The boy said.

“I’m Quackity! But you can call me Big Q if you want, what’s your name?” The boy named Quackity asked, Y/N pausing before responding.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N,” Y/N said, before looking back at the stream.

There was an awkward silence after the two hybrids introduced themselves, and Quackity decided to break it.

“I have something cool to show you, wanna see?”

Y/N thought for a moment, but was cut off by 1 of her 2 demons, Emotional.

“DON’T GO, HE’S GONNA KILL US!” The pastel colored demon exclaimed, black tears falling from his eyes, only Y/N could see them, which bothered her.

“Ok,” Y/N said, following Quackity while ignoring Emotional’s cries.

They walked for about 30 minutes, getting deeper into the forest. Quackity moved a bush and showed Y/N a stash of weapons and potions.

“What are these for?” Y/N asked, confused on why he had so many.

“When you live alone in the wild, you can never be too safe, and also mobs.”

“Mobs?”

“Yeah! You do know what mobs are, right?”

Y/N stared at him before slowly shaking their head, mouthing no. Quackity grabbed one of the iron swords and gave it to Y/N, along with a healing potion.

“Take these home and meet me here again tonight,” Quackity said eagerly.

“Why?” Y/N asked, confused.

“You’re going to fight some mobs!”

“Ok…” Y/N said, looking down at the sword as it showed their face.

Y/N waved goodbye as the sun began to set, Quackity fastly waved goodbye until Y/N could no longer be seen.

“A friend…” --------------- Y/N was in her middle school math class, her teacher, Mr. Harris, talking about lord knows what, while Y/N was starting to fall asleep, one of their friends, F/N, kicked the back of her chair.

“OW, what the hell, F/N?!” Y/N whisper yelled, her tail going straight to their friend's neck. “Look,” F/N said, pointing to the doorway to see Quackity beckoning Y/N to follow him. Y/N sighed before lowering her tail and turned to look at F/N.

“Cover me,” Y/N said, before running out of the classroom.

“Y/N L/N GET BACK HERE!” Mr. Harris yelled.

“MR. HARRIS, Y/N has been really sick lately and they said she felt like she was about to throw up, so maybe that’s why she left.”

“Oh…” Mr. Harris said in embarrassment, before going back to teaching.

Y/N grabbed Quackity by his shoulders before looking at him annoyed.

“What do you want, Big Q…”

“We’re skipping.”

“And, look at this,” Quackity said, pulling out an invitation.

“It’s from Schlatt,” Quackity said.

“He wants us to come to his party.”

“Ok…” Y/N said, uninterested.

“Q, are you sure he invited me? You’re friends with him, not me.”

“He said to bring you, see,” Quackity said, handing her the letter.

“Imagine how popular and powerful we’ll be if people see we’re hanging out with him,” Quackity said while Y/N read the letter.

“It’s just petty middle and high school popularity Quackity, it won’t mean anything when we’re adults.”

Quackity looked at Y/N with a hint of anger in his eyes, before going back to normal.

“Y/N… It’s not just some ‘petty’ high school popularity, Schlatt’s family are pretty powerful, being friends with him can benefit you, Y/N,” Quackity said, putting his arm over Y/N’s shoulder, smirking sinisterly, but Y/N was too busy reading to see it.

Sighing, Y/N agreed to go, before following Quackity off of school grounds.

“We’re going to be in trouble,” Y/N said.

“And?” Quackity asked.

“My parents have been saying they keep getting calls from the school about us sneaking out.”

“Hm,” Quackity said, amused. ------------

Y/N walked down the halls of her high school while Schlatt and Quackity ranted about one of their classmates, Wilbur. Y/N couldn’t care less about what they were saying, she was too busy with their thoughts.

“You listening?” A gruff voice asked, in an annoyed tone.

“Schlatt…”

“Yeah, what do you want?” When the trio turned the corner, the halls were packed.

“Rush hour…” Quackity mumbled.

“Yep,” Schlatt said.

While the trio walked towards the lunch room, people turned their heads to look at the group. Y/N, Quackity and Schlatt were what people called a threat. And this made them the most popular kids in school, much to Y/N’s dismay and Quackity’s excitement. The trio noticed it got quiet all of a sudden and noticed people were staring at them.

“What?!” Schlatt said, making everyone run off.

“Freshmen…” Quackity said.

“Tell me about it,” Y/N agreed. ------------

Y/N was with her pet fox, Ham. When she allowed Ham to run off, she sat down at a tree and sighed, putting her mask down as she looked up at the pitch black sky. When Ham came back running, she became on guard.

“What’s wrong Ham?” She asked, picking him up as she stood up confused.

“Well, Well, Well, long time no see.”

Y/N lifted her mask up with a face filled with disgust and confusion. When she saw ram horns come into frame, her face turned into anger.

“What do you want, Schlatt? I told you I want nothing to fucking do with you, and you fucking scared Ham.”

“Ham? That’s a ridiculous name.”

“It isn’t that bad, Schlatt,” A familiar voice from the shadows said as the came into frame, Quackity.

“What do you two want, I know you didn’t go looking for me for any other reason than you needing something.”

“As you may not know, knowing how much you hate politics, I’m running for president of L’manburg-”

“Like you’re going to win.”

“Oh I will… But anyways, I have a proposition for you.”

“Which is?”

“I want you to be my assistant.”

Ham let out a laugh sounding scream while Y/N let out a wheeze.

“Like I would, I knew you were dumb but I didn’t think you were THIS dumb.”

“Oh, when did I say I was asking?”

“Huh?” Y/N asked, turning around.

“Quackity,” Schlatt said, sticking his hand out.

“Should we really do this? I mean-”

“Shut up. Give me the goddamn thing.”

Quackity hesitantly handed him a file, which Schlatt snatched from his hands.

“There is something I found quite interesting about you Y/N.”

“Like what?”

“Your brother.”

Y/N froze, her tail going straight up.

“Got her…”

“From the looks of it, you killed your brother during the war for L’manburg’s independence, completely by will.”

“How did yo-”

“It would be quite a shame if this were to, I don’t know, be told to the public.”

Y/N gripped Ham as she looked down at the ground in shame. Schlatt grabbed Y/N’s face so she could look at him.

“So, if you want your secret between the three of us, you’ll work for me.”

“Fine,” Y/N said, yanking her head the other way before walking off, flipping the ram and duck hybrid off.

“Did we really have to do that?” Quackity asked as the two walked back.

“It’s worked in the past, why wouldn’t it work again?”

“You’re right.”

#casino quackity x reader #yandere dream smp #c!quackity #Quackity #dream smp x reader #dream smp

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hlizr50 · 3 years

Text

Update: The Raven and the Songbird

Chapter 6

A little pain relief for everything I've put you through

Read on AO3

When Azriel landed in the training ring he shook his head, exasperated with himself. Now that he was here, what exactly did he plan to do? He couldn’t very well find Gwyn’s room, shake her awake, and beg her to forgive him.

He took a moment to survey the ring, racks of wooden weapons, steel, shields. The Valkyries had grown from desperation to get Nesta on the right track to three females surviving the Blood Rite to a small legion of Illyrians, priestesses, and other fae. They would be outgrowing the space soon, and he pondered that as the stone glowed blue in the moonlight.

Gwyn had never spoken much about the Blood Rite, not that he could blame her. The Illyrian tradition was barbaric under normal circumstances, and much more so with Briallyn’s meddling – with the intention of killing all three of the females. Azriel couldn’t help but grin to himself.

How spectacularly had her plan backfired.

He had not admitted that Cassian was not the only one sleepless and mortified that week, but where the general was a barely-contained force of will and expression Azriel was schooled in hiding his emotion. He’d had to stay stoic – to find Briallyn and Koschei, to support his brother while his mate fought for her life. But his relationship with Gwyn had begun to develop by then, as well. Slowly. It was all he could do some days not to fly in and destroy them all. She had already suffered unspeakable horrors, and the possibility that she had been at the mercy of Illyrian males – bred with a thirst for blood and flesh – had been nearly unbearable.

When that general is finished hurting her she has to feel the soul-crushing terror of watching the next soldier take his place because you don’t come to save her.

He ran a hand through his onyx hair, remembering Nesta’s words. His shadows seemed to wither around him, drooping over his shoulders and wings. How had it come to this?

The shadowsinger sat himself down on the ground, knees drawn up. He rested his forearms on them and gazed at the ink-dark sky painted with stars. Much like his High Lord, seeing the stars had always been a comfort to Azriel – a reminder that he was free from the prison of his upbringing, that he had escaped and had replaced his father and brothers with a family that cared for him and showed him what love and brotherhood really meant.

His found family had grown so much in such a short time. He was grateful for that, for so many reasons. Rhys had emerged from Under the Mountain a broken male and Feyre had helped piece him back together. She had quickly become a glue for all of them, holding them tight and treating them with such love that Azriel was often awed by it. It wasn’t hard defending her, being dedicated to her safety as High Lady. She was far more than a monarch to him.

Then came Nesta and Elain, and what a storm that had been. Cassian and Nesta were meant to be since the beginning, but that path had been long and painful, and not just for his ears and the new… sanitation concerns for public living spaces in the house. Sometimes he was surprised that he counted Nesta as his friend. She had been intentionally hurtful so many times. How often had he seen the pain in his brother’s countenance because of something she had said or done? And yet now he understood her, maybe more than he cared to admit. She had been hurting and afraid and overflowing with self-loathing.

He had hurt Gwyn for those very reasons.

Gwyn.

He felt his shoulders and wings sag with the weight of Nesta’s questions tonight. Accusations thinly veiled as questions, and each one like a carefully crafted throwing knife plunged into his gut. He’d made her cry for at least the third time in as many weeks. Training and working to exhaustion, and not being able to sleep because of the worsening nightmares – nightmares that had cruelly transformed to remind her that he had abandoned her.

Even his shadows felt heavy.

The spymaster hung his head, shame like a blanket smothering him in summer heat. How could he ever forgive himself for causing that pain? It was a fate he had personally prevented, and now she was forced to experience it in her dreams. Because of him. Because he was a coward.

Azriel let his eyes drift closed and focused on his breathing. Sleep would not be an option tonight, and he could only pray that the priestess was sound asleep in the house, getting the rest she so desperately needed. Training didn’t seem to be in the cards either, as he sifted through the torrent of thoughts and emotions. He just needed to sit and think. And in the morning, he would speak with Gwyn as soon as he could. He would fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to.

“Azriel?”

The inky tendrils flitted to life around him at the sound of that voice. Cauldron damn him, of course she would find him now. But part of him was relieved to be able to talk to her so soon – that she was even here.

“Azriel, are you alright?” His heart squeezed at the softness of Gwyn’s voice, music to his ears – a sweet melody with harmonies of concern and kindness. How could she still be so kind to him?

“I don’t deserve to be asked that. Especially not by you,” he murmured, staring down at the stone between his feet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Azriel.” Her soft footsteps seemed to echo in his head, a ringing alarm that she was coming closer. He didn’t want to run from her, but his heart was still racing. How could he face her inevitable rejection? He noticed her shadow fall over the space between his legs and when he looked up she was crouching in front of him, eyes shining with sincerity. “You deserve for people to care about you. And I do. I won’t just leave you out here alone when anyone could see the weight of the world pressing down on you.”

Gods, but wasn’t that exactly what he had done to her?

The shadowsinger had no air in his chest as he studied her. The expression on her face was difficult to describe – caring and teasing and scolding all rolled into glittering ocean eyes and the slightest quirk of her full lips. She rose and his gaze followed as she held her hand out to him, beckoning him to stand with her. It took more courage than he cared to admit to place his violence-scarred hands in hers, but their warmth spread through him like sunshine warming his bones as she helped him to his feet.

She didn’t let go, and that gave him the strength he needed.

“Nesta found me at the river house tonight. She had… a lot to say,” Azriel began as he saw color bloom on Gwyn’s cheeks. She looked down to their hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for her to –“ He squeezed her hands and she snapped her head back up to meet his gaze.

“I deserved every single bit of venom she threw at me, Gwyn. Do not apologize.” The shadowsinger looked down, then, unsure how to move forward or which of his many transgressions he should address first. So he asked, “Is it true? About the nightmares? That… that I don’t come for you?” He could feel the emotion catching in his throat, cracking his voice. His eyes burned as he looked back to the priestess. Her lips were pressed together as she tried to keep the silver lining her eyes from spilling down over her cheeks.

“Yes,” she whispered, lashes lowering as the silent tears fell. Each droplet was a nick in his heart, the guilt and pain salting those wounds. How could she be so strong, to endure this agony and yet hold the hands that caused it? He released one of the hands and lifted it to her face, hesitating with his fingers a breath away from her cheek. Azriel had his mouth open to ask if he could touch her when she leaned her face into his palm. He brushed at her tears with his thumb before bringing up his other hand, cupping her jaw.

“Gwyn,” he breathed, pleading silently for her to look at him. The shining pools that opened to him were so enthralling, depths shimmering with trepidation. Gods, what he would do to bring back the joy in those eyes. “I will always come for you. No matter what. And I will never be able to forgive myself that there might be any part of your mind or your heart or your soul that could believe otherwise.” He watched as she took a shuddering breath, but her eyes held his and he was emboldened.

“I’m so sorry, Gwyn. For all of this. I was a fool and a coward and I let my guilt and my fear own me. And it only hurt you.”

Gwyn’s hands covered the scars on his own as she pulled them away from her face, returning them to their place entwined between them. Azriel stayed silent and her head tilted as she studied him.

“What could you possibly be afraid of?” she released a hoarse, hiccupped laugh. The shadowsinger could only gulp down a breath and look toward the stars.

“I… I was afraid of the feelings I was developing for you. And of the pain I would feel when you would see all the things I have done and the monster that I am and run away from me. Or that you would be hurt because of this darkness inside of me.” His eyes had returned to hers and, while he saw understanding swimming there, her expression was uncompromising.

“Have I not been hurt already?” Her bluntness shocked him, and he felt the slightest twinge of panic that told him to run. Her fingers tightened like a vice around his hands and he saw her eyes darken, as if she knew what he was thinking. “Don’t you dare even think about running away, Azriel. Not now. I deserve better from you.” Even his shadows seemed focused on where their hands touched, intent on keeping them tied together.

She did. She deserved so much better. Better than what he’d done. Shame washed over him that he could have thought to flee from her. Again. He had already wronged her… too many times. But he had come here determined to right those wrongs. Azriel wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to give her what she deserved, if he would ever be good enough for her. But he sure as fuck was going to try.

“You’re right,” he conceded, that panic replaced by resolution and a faint, foolish glimmer of hope. “I’m not going anywhere.” She grinned softly and he thought his chest would burst from relief. They were still here, together, talking. They were going to figure this out.

“Why did you run, Azriel? If you care for me, like you say,” she demanded, that sea-deep stare piercing straight into his soul. “Why? Why are you afraid of me seeing who you are?”

He should have known that she would demand an explanation. Gwyn was strong and confident. She knew her worth and what she deserved, and him sharing the story behind all of his idiotic decisions was the very least of that. But he was not prepared, and he didn’t want to. He never wanted to darken others’ lives with his history.

“That’s… a long story, Gwyn,” he huffed, hoping that might be the end of it. But he saw her eyes, determination and challenge and fire blazing blue in the moonlight.

“We have all night.” She released his hands and gestured to the darkness around them. She would not be deterred, would not back down until she accomplished her goal. It was one of the many things he admired so much about her. “Should we sit?”

Azriel found himself smiling as he nodded, sitting cross-legged on the stone. Even though the impending admissions rang as a death knell in his mind, it warmed his heart to know that she cared so deeply – that she wanted to know the worst of him.

He had put her through enough, and he could relive his pain and push out his fear for this night, if only for her.

“I don’t know where to start.” He scratched the back of his neck, a nervous tick he was usually good at hiding. But then Gwyn – that sweet, incredible, special female – gathered his other hand with those long, pale, graceful fingers and he felt the tension ease. He looked at her, taking in the beauty and serenity of her features. Freckles were scattered over cheeks stained pink, an encouraging smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

“The beginning seems like a good place, don’t you think?”

So that’s where he began.

~~~

Azriel was not proud that he could not find the strength to look at Gwyn as he walked her through his story, but he could still hear and feel her reactions. And he dared a glance at her from time to time, trying to read everything her eyes were saying. He told her about the cell he was kept in as a child, how little touch or affection or love he had experienced, and how the shadows around him seemed to move and react and speak. She clutched his hand tighter when he told her about what had happened to them, that his brothers had set fire to them to see how he would heal. She hadn’t said a word, but he smelled the salt from tears and felt impossibly soft strokes of her thumbs over those scars.

He explained his time in Illyria and the fearsome reputation he and Cassian had to maintain, simply to make up for the circumstances of their birth. And while Cassian had been brute force and power, Azriel was deadly calm, precision, intellect, terror. He admitted to her how he had hoped to find validation in his role as spymaster under Rhysand’s father, and that he could truly revel in his duties under the right circumstances.

“Those soldiers I killed in Sangravah,” he told her. “I would have enjoyed dragging out their deaths as long as possible for what they did to you.”

Gwyn’s hands were so gentle around his as he told her how much the death and darkness grated against his soul, and how he’d had nothing to tether him to the light. He talked to her about Mor, a waste of literal centuries. And then, somehow, he told her about Elain. Not that he’d loved her, because he never had. But that he’d felt entitled to her, like he deserved what his brothers had found with the other two sisters. That he was the third brother and she was the third sister and that was all that mattered. His entitlement, his lust and desire for the bond - as opposed to love for the person - just another ugly facet of his true self.

“So I suppose that brings me to you, to these past few weeks.” Azriel made sure to meet her gaze for this. “I panicked after the necklace, because I wasn’t prepared for what it would do to me to see that hurt in your eyes. And when I told you things would go back to normal I still didn’t know what to do. I thought distance would be best between us, because I knew you would be able to draw me out of myself. And that was dangerous.”

The shadowsinger’s throat burned with emotion when Gwyn smiled softly. He could see so much roaring in her gaze, but there was no sign of pity or disgust or fear. Azriel ran his free hand through his hair before resting it atop their other clasped hands. Wetness burned his eyes, but he didn’t care.

“When I found you in the rain that night, I could smell your tears and I saw your hands – split knuckles and bruised, swollen fingers. And,” he choked down his feelings even as the tears began their descent, “and I was torn apart with the guilt. It was my fault that you were doing that to yourself. I might has well have put those marks on you with my own two vile hands.” Azriel closed his eyes and let the tears fall – not many, but enough. The silence rang through his ears, his history hanging between them. He waited for the fear, the rejection, especially when she drew her hands away from his. But his eyes snapped open when delicate calloused fingers stroked his cheeks. Gwyn had risen to her knees to dry the wetness on them, her stare a storm of trust and understanding... and compassion.

“Thank you for telling me your story, Azriel,” she whispered. “I see you. You have nothing to fear. I’m still right here.” Then she smiled brightly, and he unraveled.

“Gwyn, I don’t know if you can ever forgive me – I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t. But I care for you as more than a teacher, more than a friend. You are a light in my dark life and these past few weeks have been miserable without you in them.” Her smile widened slightly and he reached out a thumb to catch a stray tear that had fallen from those precious, beautiful eyes. He felt his own grin pushing his cheeks against her warm hands.

“I care for you, too, Azriel. As more than a friend.”

He held that watery stare until she released his face. She stood up, brushing off her knees before reaching her hands to him again to help him to his feet. He tilted his head curiously at the determination flashing in her eyes.

“Here is what’s going to happen,” she began, looking down at her hands in his. “Before we pursue anything… romantically, I need to be sure that this isn’t something that will happen again.”

He opened his mouth to speak but she pressed her fingers against his lips. “We both have darkness and fear and I understand that. But if you feel it taking over, I need you to come to me, to talk to me. Because if I open my heart to you and this happens again – if you insist on shutting yourself off from me or deciding for me what I deserve or want – I will be heartbroken.” The confession left Azriel raw.

“What can I do, Gwyn? How can I reassure you?” He could hear the desperation in his own voice, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“We are going to go back to how things were before this mess.” She had returned her hand to his and gave both a squeeze. A shadow darted down around them, as if to approve of the contact. “The way it was that led us to realize that we feel the way we do. And you are going to prove to me that we can have what we had before I found out about that stupid, lovely necklace. Do you think you can do that?” He could have fallen to his knees seeing the hope in those ocean eyes, mirroring the spark of hope inside of him. It was something he hadn’t dared to let himself fully feel with her.

“I will.” Azriel’s voice was low and rough. “I swear it.”

“And then we can decide what comes next. And I can prove to you that your hands and your darkness are just as important to me as the rest of you.”

He was grinning like a fool, he knew. He still had a chance, because Gwyneth Berdara was the definition of grace and love. And by the Mother he would not screw this up.

He felt more than saw her wrap her arms around his back, pulling herself into him. For a moment he was frozen by the intimacy of it – shocked by her initiation of it – but he quickly let his arms settle around her waist. He breathed in, pulling her tighter, and leaned his cheek on the crown of her head.

“Don’t let me down, Shadowsinger,” she muttered into his chest. He chuckled and dared to move one hand to comb through her hair. “I want to see… what comes next.” He wanted to see, too. He wanted to know what it was like to look to the future and see more than dread and loneliness and exhaustion. He could see it with her.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Berdara.”

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#gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fic #gwynriel #gwynriel supremacy #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fic #gwyn x azriel #azwyn #azriel x gwyn #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction

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flowerwrites06 · 3 years

Text

the tale of agape I — jjk

World Info: There are eight types of Love originated from Ancient Greece. In the Realm of Love, these types have been turned into seven Gods and one Goddess. — Agape (universal): OC (Name: Belle) | Pragma (everlasting): Jungkook | Storge (familial): Yoongi | Mania (obsession): Seokjin | Philia (platonic): Namjoon | Eros (sexual passion): Taehyung | Philautia (self-love): Hoseok | Ludus (playful): Jimin

Plot: Agape is a well-loved Goddess in the Realm of Love. Anyone who wins her approval will become the most powerful entity in the land, standing side by side as a co-symbol of eternal Love. Unfortunately with knowledge of this power, Gods and Nymphs are prone to obsession and cunning. So Agapes’ de facto brother, Storge organises a tournament in her honour. Only the winner will become Agapes’ partner.

Pairing(s): God!Jungkook x Goddess!OC (Name: Belle) ft. God!Seokjin

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 2.6k

Genre: Gods & Goddesses | Fantasy | Romance

Tags & Warnings: betrayal, nothing intense in this chapter but there will eventual smut and violence so

Authors Note: i miss doing a jungkook series lmao so here you go, there were a lot of people during requests asking for a god/goddess au so I’m going on that with a new plot based on the eight types of love. I’m also extremely sleepy and ready to pass out, please excuse any mistakes. And lastly of course, enjoy and let me know what you think! Is this something you’d want me to continue or nah?

Morning began with soft sunlight painting the Love Realm, making the Cherry Palace sandstone glow like a topaz gem. Yoongi, the God of Familial Love stood at the terrace with the God of Platonic Love, Namjoon. Their soft silk robes flowed in the cool breeze as they watched the chariots of red, gold and blue riding into the courtyard; each vehicle pulled by majestic stallions.

“Are you sure about this?” Namjoon asked, eyes gently squinted to adjust to the bright day. His flowing blonde hair looked almost white from the reflection of the sun.

Yoongi shook his head, heart shaped lips pursed. “I don’t like it as much as you do but this is the only way we can filter out the ones on our own accord.”

“Is Belle okay with this?”

“She likes tournaments. Chose the method herself.”

“Jousting?”

Yoongi hummed in agreement, unable to hide the smile spreading across his lips.

Namjoon chuckled. “Sometimes I think she just likes the knocking of heads.”

“Agape has a cheek to her.” Yoongi leaned forward on the balcony railing. All the heads padded out of their chariots, escorted by servants into the palace. Only one chariot hadn’t arrived yet.

“Seokjin is coming too?” Namjoons’ voice grew deep with slight contempt.

“I have to invite him. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“You know how he gets, Yoongi.” Namjoon shifted to face him completely. “What if he gets out of control in this tournament?”

“I gave him my warning last time.” Yoongi raised a hand to calm him. “He knows what’ll happen.”

“You can’t kill him.”

“Oh I’ll keep him alive.”

Namjoon shook his head, laughing. “How do you make even that sound threatening?”

Yoongi grinned. “I made her my sister for a reason. No one hurts her on my account.”

“Understood.”

Refreshing wind brushed through the transparent crème curtains into Belles’ room as her lady-in-waiting fit her into a warm pink georgette dress for the first tournament. The tone matched her pink irises, making them look more otherworldly than ever.

Angel let out a satisfied sigh after fixing the train. “Lord Yoongi knows how to pick dresses.” She stood up straight and fixed the gold patchwork bordering the shoulder of the dress.

“He always chooses pink.” Belle observed herself in the silver rimmed mirror, tilting her head. Her curls fell over half her face.

“Well, you can’t wear red just yet.”

“Such a strange rule.”

“Apparently when Agape wears red, it’s only for the most auspicious occasions.” Angels’ voice turned airy as her face lit up with astonishment. Her passion for the Gods of Love was admirable and endearing without the added obsession of climbing the ladder. She respected the concept of love in its purest form. Belle needed more of that around her. “So it’s special that you wear it in specific times.”

“Will I wear it for my wedding?” A small thrill tingled through her belly mentioning her own wedding. Belle remembered all her dreams about being the splash of red amongst pink roses and falling peach blossoms in the Cherry Palace center garden.

Angel stared up at her, eyes glossed and face flushed with excitement. “It could be the most beautiful deep red dress that has a train all down the Realm.” She gestured out through the curtains.

“That’d be a bit hard to move around in.” Belle giggled as she shrugged off the pink dress until she was down to her white underdress. “But I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“Watch your left, Eros!” Laughter ensued from outside her room.

“You watch your footwork, Pragma!”

Hearing the Gods’ names being used as colloquial nicknames was a strange sound to Angel but it made Belle grin. She rushed forward through the transparent curtains to the sandstone balcony which looked over one of the smaller gardens. The ones with apple trees and the fountain.

“My lady, wait!” Angel whispered harshly.

The sleeve of Belles’ underdress slid off her shoulder but she barely thought to fix it. Angel quickly draped a silk robe over her body to keep her decent.

The two young Gods of Love, Pragma and Eros dueled each other like they were performing in a playful dance. Yoongi called Pragma by Jungkook and Eros by Taehyung. Both of them a true symbol of their role in the Realm.

Taehyung had beautiful deep tan skin, glowing like a bronze pearl and his sharpened eyes constantly brimmed with bliss over the things around him. He wore a loose silk shirt of yellow and white, half-opened to expose his soft chest while his dark brown curls fluffed and flowed like a gentle garden.

Jungkook was of milk tea skin, sweat on his neck and cheeks glistened, matting his raven hair to his forehead. His body was lithe and muscular adorned in a red and black shirt. The smile on his face had the perfect mix of mischief and pure joy. His feet moved like the genteel steps of a blossom dancer but his sword swings were the strength of a rock sentinel. Chuckles flowed from his lips at the sequence of movements, truly enjoying the activity instead of being full of anger and determination to win something.

Belle wanted to continue admiring him but a sense of her own mischief seeped through. The fountain centered this garden which the Gods did an amazing job to avoid in their flexible parries and attacks. When she noticed Jungkook nearing the fountain ready to avoid, she took a deep breath. “Having fun, my lords?!”

As expected, Jungkook lost his balance and toppled over to the fountain. His beautiful shirt splashed with water and his dampened hair from sweat completely soaked from the fountain flow. From up on the balcony, it looked like a Nymph was pouring water constantly on Jungkooks’ head.

Belle couldn’t help but laugh and Angel tried her best not to follow along.

Jungkook winced at his drenched self; almost a hint of anger on his face before he threw his head back and scoffed out a laugh.

Taehyung looked over to follow the sound and his expression softened when he recognized Belles’ face. “Agape,” he whispered with such a baritone voice that it even shocked Jungkook.

He tracked his gaze up to the sandstone balcony, decorated with pink roses and all-spice flowers. Jungkook raked his fingers through his hair, slicking it back so he could see her. Agape. The Goddess of Eternal Love. Beautiful brown curls and glowing skin against the warm sunlit sky. He couldn’t see it clearly from here but the hints of her pink irises twinkled. A smile tugged at his lips. “You got me, my lady.”

Belle smirked, leaning forward as her cheeks heated. “Be sure not to catch a cold, my lord. I’m looking forward to seeing you at the match.”

Jungkooks’ smile turned to a bright grin. “I’ll be as healthy as a God,” he mused before biting his bottom lip.

The day had come for Seokjins’ arrival. Mania: the God of Obsessive Love. This time Yoongi opted to see him personally in the council room. Kiku, the Earth Nymph Queen and his wife stood by his side despite her wish not to see this God again. In the last banquet, Seokjin had less than pleasant things to say to her and Yoongi was on the verge of announcing war. Thankfully Namjoon broke apart the fight, telling them to separate until they calm down.

Black robe train slithered across the white polished stone floor. When Yoongi remembered Seokjin, he saw a plump skinned charmer who saw the world as a trail of possibilities. Today he stood in front of a thinning man. “I thank you for welcoming me back after my horrible behaviour in the last banquet.” Seokjin spoke in his truest charm but it was changed. There was a darkness under his eyes now and his previously plump skin became sunken with age.

Yoongi attempted a smile. “It’s forgotten.”

Beetle black eyes flickered to Kiku with the same deathly sleep-deprived expression. “And Lady Earth, I offer my humblest apologies.”

Kiku nodded in response without a word. Yoongi knew it was her way to tolerating this visit without giving her true opinion.

“I’m happy to be part of this excitement.” Seokjin intertwined his long fingers together like a spiders legs uncurling.

“Both Eros and Pragma will be participating.”

“How wonderful!”

“Jimin will also be giving his famous stories as entertainment with Goddess Gaias’ illusions. I know you enjoy them.”

“My favorites are of ours.” Seokjin always had his way to maintaining the memory of their history. The two oldest Gods of Love. Family and Obsession building the Realm of Love from scratch. There was a twisted beauty about that fact.

“The servants will help you to your temporary chamber in the Palace.” Yoongi nodded to the three servants awaiting his order. “Make yourself at home.”

Seokjin bowed and turned his heel, quietly expecting the servants to scurry after him.

Yoongi glanced over at Kiku. Her entire body exuded a sense of concern and a hint of anger, green vines were twirling around her fingers to relieve her stress. He held onto her hand, her skin as soft as a cloud. A silent comfort to reassure her that it’ll all be well.

Thousands of people in the Realm of Love crowded on the wooden pavilions, waving their flags of rainbow colours representing their favourite jousters. Excitement thrummed in the air with that hint of curiosity. Who would the Goddess Agape stand next to at the end of the festival? Some of the members of the crowd were already deep into debate as to which fighter would be the most appropriate.

At the center and best view of the arena, three velvet lined seats were placed. Yoongi sat in the middle with Kiku on his left and Belle on his right. A step lower than the seats were the three non-performing gods, Namjoon, Seokjin and Hoseok, the God of Self-Love.

Once the crowd was organized and ready, Yoongi stood up. He didn’t need to move an inch before everyone delved into an attentive silence. “Welcome to our esteemed competition, good people. The rules are simple. You are to clash with your partners in a fair joust and the winner will provide a favor of their colour to the Goddess.” He gestured to Belle. “The one with the most favors will win the match.” Yoongi waved his hand. “Let the games begin.”

A wave of applause and cheer welcomed the first jousting match between Taehyung and an Earth Nymph. Their gold and silver armor glinted against the summer light. Another trail of pin-drop silence as the jousters had their lances ready. Belle kept her eyes on Eros as most of the crowd did. No one expected him to be much of a sportsman but his blooming friendship with Jungkook seemed to have influenced his new hobbies.

With a clap, the stallions galloped towards each other. In a pounding rise of suspense, they grew closer. Closer. Closer. Taehyung smashed the lance against the Earth Nymphs’ chest earning a wild applause.

He reached the other side and one of the servants gave him a white favor for his victory. Taehyung rode out to the platform where Belle sat. Keeping his half-lidded gaze, he kissed the favor and had it levitate towards the Goddess. “For you, my lady.”

Belle smiled and gently accepted the favor. She gave a short bow to acknowledge his gift.

Another series of matches continued on but what Belle truly waited for arrived around five matches later. She may have counted in her head until she saw the red flag matched with green.

Jungkook rode in his glinting obsidian armor and black stallion that had the most beautiful silver mane. He was a picture of magic. Lances at the ready, the crowd stills with anticipation. The Earth Nymph rides first and Jungkook follows suit a few seconds later. There were some murmurs that the God lost his focus in the midst of the match. They soon found out it was another reason altogether.

The sheer brute force of Jungkooks’ lance nearly cracked the Earth Nymphs’ armor and had them falling off their horse. Due to the leather straps, the Nymphs’ struggling body was still being dragged by the stallion while servants tried to get them to safety.

Belle stared at the fallen Nymph in worry, feeling a bit guilty for the sheer excitement brimming through her body at Jungkooks’ explosive victory. He brought a red favor. This time Belle stood up from her chair as the beautiful stallion closed in. Moving down the step platform with Namjoons’ help, she took a moment to caress the stallions’ head.

“For you, my lady.” Jungkook handed her the red favor.

Belle accepted it, feeling the warmth of his palm and the heat exuding from it. “My lord,” she muttered before turning on her heel. Perhaps it was too blatant of an action for her favoritism but she didn’t care.

Yoongi noticed the flushed pleasure on Belles’ face. He couldn’t help but chuckle, rubbing his lips and instinctively holding Kikus’ hand. A part of him remembered how the early thrills of a blossoming relationship felt like. The more Belle smiled, the more he felt grateful for this tournament.

Jungkook stayed still on the spot just watching Belle move back up to her platform. His body and soul grew too comfortable in her aura that it made him dizzy. When the Goddess sat down and faced him, he shook himself back to reality. Giving a quick bow, he rode back for the rest of the tournament.

***

Night fell into a deep blue blanket of sky and the remnants of thrill from the tournament celebrated with ale, dancing and pleasure. Jungkook had last seen Taehyung in a bedroom full of the most beautiful Nymphs and the smell of incense. With the look on his face, one could only imagine what was going on in there. He, however, was called to Seokjins’ chamber.

He knocked on the door four times and announced himself before Seokjin invited him in with a chirpy tone.

“Welcome, Jungkook!” Seokjin was about the only person other than Yoongi who could call him that. “I hope you had fun in the tournament.” He gestured for him to sit at the dining table.

“Sword fighting is more my favourite—” Jungkook relaxed on the chair, his tired muscles aching when it was finally resting. “—but I liked the favors idea.” He smiled.

“I’m sure you did.” Seokjin picked up an apple from the glass bowl and wiped it on his robe. “Keep going like this and our deal will go smoothly.”

His smile faded, fingers lightly tapping on the arm of his chair. “Do you think it’s fair? Sneaking up on the Goddess like this?”

“Don’t start getting a conscience now, my lord.” Seokjin chuckled. “When you were begging for your friends’ life, you said you’d kill the Goddess.”

Jungkook tasted something bitter on his tongue at the thought.

“Too bad that friend didn’t have your beautiful dedication to friendship.” He scrunched his nose. “Wind Nymphs, they’re a bit filmsy, aren’t they?”

Jungkook pressed his lips together, averting his gaze.

Seokjin let out a deep sigh, raising his palms. “Apologies.” The kindness of his gaze ended as soon as it started when he narrowed his gaze. The shadows cast under his eyes made him look more like a Demon than a God. “But we’re still on this deal, aren’t we?”

It wasn’t a request open for Jungkook to refuse. If he backed out of his deal then the price would be dire. Seokjin was an ancient God of Love like Yoongi. Entities like him could take a God or Nymphs’ powers, rotting their core soul into a Demon. An animalistic creature with no memory of their past self.

Jungkook was trapped the moment he thought of a deal with Seokjin. All he could do was nod and accept the betrayal he was going to perform.

next chap >>>

#jungkook #thebtswritersclub #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #bts gods au #jungkook gods au #fantasy au #bts fantasy #bts fantasy au #jungkook fantasy au #romance #bts romance #romance au #bts romance au #jungkook romance au #ancient greek

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just-a-real-human · 3 years

Text

A tale of war.(Humans are space orcs)

SO! i decided to do something different, i won’t be exactly sticking to a single writing style forever, some stories will be Kr’Kn’s lectures(or maybe adventures of his? maybe), others will be more standard stories and yet others, like these, will be large scale battles with dramatic storytelling. ALSO! the comments are fixed now! so i can ACTUALLY get constructive critisism. I found two links for laser sound effect which are used in this story, OR you can imagine them yourself c: (P.S i don’t own any of the sounds)

https://youtu.be/whLbGbpt-E4 for the smaller laser effect. yes. SMALLER

https://youtu.be/o_Lv5GXYYvA for the BIG BOY. You’ll know when to use it. NOW ON WITH THE STORY

The Dr’achs attack on humanity was not exactly unexpected...but it was a surprise they’d do it so soon. They were a warfaring species, a succesfull one at that, taking homes, destroying planets by taking their recources, even bringing many species to extinction...we all assumed this would be the end of humanity, they never did have much military might. Don’t get me wrong!, their military was powerful, but there wasn’t much of it...at least that’s what we thought...oh how wrong we were.

The Dr’achs attack was swift, powerful, unexpected. The human homeworld (Earth or Terra, depends who you ask) Was utterly decimated, many cities fell, including every major capital. They killed every town, city or village they came across. The Dr’achs ordered the surrender of humanity, but their representitive, Grand Admiral Yeshua Ezekiel Alastair replied with but one simple sentence. “Psalm chapter 97″. Nobody knew what it meant, but the Dr’achs soon came to know it’s meaning first hand...

A mere three months after the devestating attack on Earth, a fleet had assembled, one of sizes inconcievable to anyone who saw it...millions, no, BILLIONS of humans had gathered around their pride and joy, their flagship, their capital...i cannot describe it’s power, it’s size...it’s might...

It was so immense we could see it pass our star clearly like an eclipse, blotting out the sun with it’s size and power...I must say, am i happy we did not attack humanity when we thought they were weak.

At the planet, many aliens had joined the fleet, be that to provide geniune support, to sate their curiosity, to record the happenings for the universe to see, or to simply see the might of the Deus ex machina. I don’t blame anyone who did, a small part of me joined the battle for that exact reason, of course i was mostly there to record the happenings, but still...that ship is incomprihensibly big, i could probably destroy a city simply by entering atmosphere above it!

At the home planet of the Dr’achs, Dr’ach’raz, Humanity gave one warning, telling the Dr’achs to surrender, giving them one chance to surrender. They naturally refused, and so, in reaction, Grand Admiral Yeshua simply smiled, saying “May the Lord have mercy on your soul, but i doubt hell will be pleasant.”

Ships flew all across the planet, engulfing it like a dyson sphere does a star, millions of ships flying to every city, village or remote bunker, having no mercy, they spared no man, woman or child. Every ship firing it’s devastating lasers at them, and at their capital, which humanity attacked last, the Dr’achs had put of an admirable defense, their turrets did most of the work, shooting down a ship every now and then, they sent thousands upon thousands in infantry, but the human ships simply fired on them with their heavy laser beams, their booming, horrible sound being a testament to their strength. Those ships tore down evey building they hit, like a hot blade through butter, cutting through ground, battering through bunkers and disintegrating infantry and civilians alike. Military had hidden in bunkers so deep underground even their heavy lasers couldn’t break through, but that was their last mistake...

From within the bunkers, the surviving Dr’achs sat with shaking knees, regretting everything they had ever done, desperately attempting to open communications with humanity. Eventually, Alastair picked up, a thin smile on his face and raised eyebrow. “I had expected you dead, what seems to be the problem?” The Dr’achs looked at him, abject horror on his face. “Human! Turn back your ships at once! we-we surrender!” All Yeshua did...was laugh. He shook his head, still chuckling. “What makes you think we had the intention of accepting surrender? If we wanted your surrender, all we would have done is decloak our capital and show you!” The Dr’achs eyes went wide, his mouth agape as it looked at the screen showing what was happening above ground...

There it was, high above, darkening everything on the planet, was the human flagship, their new capital...The Deus ex machina, The God from the machine.

Above the bunker, the remaining ground troops gasped, looking up at the darkened sky. Many tried to flee, others tried to shoot it, yet others collapsed, fainted or dead from fear. None of it mattered anyways, for the many ships pulled back, returning to their God...and then everything went silent, as if all sound was pulled away, and then There was a horrible sound, Thunder was sounding all around the planet, made by all the disturbance the gravity of this massive ship was making and the dust and debris rubbing together... and suddenly a massive surface the size of a dwarf planet on the God’s belly started glowing a brilliant white-green colour, a horrible, a rising hum sounding all around, deafening all who heard it without protection. Then, the most horrifying thing i have ever observed...the gigantic laser fired, it’s brilliant white blinding me temporarily it cored through the planet like it was nothing, the sound returning in my dreams even to this very day. It blasted through the planet, going deeper and deeper, destroying the bunker like paper...but it did not stop...

It continued, not stopping untill...it hit the core. The planet started to glow from the inside out with the green hue of this massive beam,but this lasted all but a few seconds before it blasted apart. everything on that planet was dead...destintegrated, killed by the shockwave, or maybe, JUST maybe, some poor alien on the other side of the planet was alive long enough to see it’s home split...or maybe it was removed by the laser coming out the other side...

Humans were victorious, and every creature in the galaxy knew that humans were amazing at hiding their might...but not afraid to show it.

Human death count was maybe 5000, their victory was absolute, they remain a powerful force, and even a dozen of their heavy cruisers could have been sent to deal with this...but no, they wanted revenge...they NEEDED revenge, they needed to honour the dead by wiping those disgusting creatures away from the universe...and so they did, and the only ones remaining are on planets far away, praying everyday a human doesn’t come and end their existence...

Dr Kr’Kn on the destruction of Dr’ach’raz.

SO! that was a story displaying the fact that humans are not to be fucked with! i really hope you enjoyed and don’t be shy to post constructive critisism c:

Do keep in mind CONSTRUCTIVE, i want to improve, so please also tell me how to write better. Have a VERY nice day, and untill next time!

#humans are terrifying #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are space fae

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