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callsign-rogueone · 3 months

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the last six years - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader Only one person has remained by Brennan’s side for the last six years, through the good and the bad. [requested] wc: 3.9k 🏷: SPOILERS FOR FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME. fatal injury, blood, and multiple character deaths. basically every bad thing that has ever happened to Brennan will be in this series. I took some major creative liberties with this one and made a bunch of stuff up regarding Tyrrish culture, but we’re just gonna breeze right past that. more to come, because Brennan is just so husband material… mans had me giggling and kicking my feet every time he spoke.

“Tairn! We need Naolin!” You scream, praying that he is alive to hear you. “Bren, please, stay with me.”

His chest rises and falls slowly; he's still breathing. Breathing is good. “Y’need to get out of here.”

“No. I’m not leaving you. Eyes open, Bren, please,” you beg, pressing your hands deeper into the wound. “Tairn!”

“Thirty seconds out!” He yells back.

There’s not much you can do. To remove the arrow is a death sentence when you don’t have any medical supplies. It’s the only thing keeping the blood in his body, but even then it’s doing a shitty job; the warm crimson continues spilling out through your fingers, seemingly endless.

“S’ gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Brennan soothes, feeling your panic.

“Bren, you need to stay awake. You can’t die. I can’t keep going without you.” Tears are pouring freely down your cheeks, dripping down onto the dark fabric of his flight jacket.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbles, ignoring your pleas. He’s slipping away, fast, falling into the slow confusion that comes with a shortage of blood to the brain. “Let me mend you.”

“I’ll worry about myself later. Right now we need to keep you alive.”

Heavy bootsteps enter the room. “Holy shit,” Naolin breathes, at your side in an instant. He digs in his bag, producing sutures and gauze.

If you act quickly, and if by some miracle the arrowhead hasn’t pierced Brennan’s heart, you can keep him stable long enough to find another mender. You break the shaft of the arrow, Brennan whimpering in pain as it shifts within his chest.

“I know, my love, I’m so sorry,” you soothe, wiping your palms on your pant legs and moving to cradle his head in your lap as Naolin takes over. You keep whispering reassurances to him, terrified that if you stop, it’ll sever the last thread holding him in this world. “You’re doing so good, Bren. Almost done, I promise.”

Naolin gives you a look that tells you no, he’s not almost done.

Brennan’s grip on your hand loosens, and you scramble to grab his wrist, bloodied fingers trying to find a pulse -- to no avail. “No,” you cry, tears pouring down your cheeks, “Bren, please wake up, please.”

The slow thump beneath your fingertips stops. Brennan’s heart is no longer beating.

You sob, a desperate sound that splits the air of the ballroom, and Naolin makes his decision, grasping Brennan’s hand and yours. “The two of you need each other.”

“Nao, you can’t-” you gasp at the rush of energy that rips through you, the pain in your broken ribs diminishing instantly. You feel like you’ve been given a shot of pure adrenaline.

Naolin stops breathing just as Brennan starts again, collapsing to the marble floor, and your lips part in shock.

“He is gone,” Tairn confirms, fighting to keep his voice even. “May your gods honor his sacrifice and reward him in the next life.”

“I’m so sorry.”

His eyes are closed. That comforts you in some tiny way, that he looks whole, uninjured, like he could just be sleeping, but you know that isn’t the case.

Brennan’s breaths are even, pulse steady. The wound looks days old now, the fresh blood coating the skin the only evidence that he had nearly died today. He’ll pull through, as long as you can get out of here.

You say a prayer to Malek on your friend’s behalf, casting one last glance at his unmoving body, and gather Brennan into your arms -- he’s still breathing, but limp, exhausted. You can carry him out of here, but where will you go?

A man bearing a crossbolt steps into the ballroom.

You make no movement toward your weapon, still holding Brennan’s body to your chest. “We surrender,” you rasp, praying he will take pity on a pair of bloodsoaked young lovers and their fallen comrade.

He steps closer, not responding.

The words escape you before you can think. The old language feels foreign on your tongue, misshapen from years of disuse. “I am a daughter of the house Lindell, and a citizen of Tyrrendor. I have sworn an oath to-”

“I know who you are, Lady,” he says. “Come with me.”

He stops in front of an abandoned farmhouse, painted gold in the sunset. “Bathe, sleep. I’ll be back when I can.”

You remain by Brennan’s side. You stitch up his wounds, wash the dried blood from his skin, count his heartbeats as he continues to sleep.

Night comes, bringing freezing wind through the cracked windows, and you climb into the bed beside him, pulling the few blankets you’d found over the pair of you. He curls into your side, seeking warmth — his skin is still cold, but not as icy as it had been when you limped him over here.

When you wake the next morning, the man has not yet returned.

“Ban?” You ask quietly. You haven’t heard from the dragon since you’d dismounted over a day ago, but she must still live, as you do.

“Nearby, with Marbh,” she reassures. “Tairn has returned to Basgiath to be with his mate. It will take years for him to recover from this loss, but he will live on.”

You continue to stroke Brennan’s hair, taking solace in the steadiness of his breathing.

“Your devotion to the mender is the strongest I have seen from any human,” she says quietly.

“He has become the air I breathe. It was unbearable when he…” you don’t even want to think the words. “I don’t know what I would have done, had Naolin not intervened.”

Brennan stirs, stretching in the cute way you’ve seen him do so many times after waking up, scrunching his face at the bright morning light streaming into the room. He takes you in, thanking the gods that the only injury you bear is a yellowing bruise on your cheek. A gentle hand cradles your face, and it vanishes.

“Naolin?” He asks quietly, and something tells you he already knows deep down.

You shake your head, your eyes brimming with tears. “He gave his life to save you.”

He looses a shuddering breath, and you gather him into your arms, crying together.

You attempt to mentally prepare yourself to enter the assembly room, adjusting your posture -- shoulders back, chin up, eyes forward.

“Not a word,” you warn Brennan quietly. “Keep your shields up, like I taught you.”

“I didn’t know we were taking prisoners,” a lanky teenage boy calls, eyeing you from his perch on the edge of a table. In the years you’ve been away, he’s grown into his father’s dark features, and the lazy confidence that can only come with a noble title. “I was wondering when you’d be back from playing soldier. Have they brought you here to negotiate?”

“Lovely to see you again too, Xaden,” you say dryly, addressing the boy by name, and Brennan’s gaze whips toward you in shock. “No, I am not here to negotiate. We are here to surrender, and if you will have us, we will take your side in this fight to free Tyrrendor from those who have oppressed her for centuries.”

“They would be an asset to us, should this prove to not be a setup,” one of the elders says, keeping his hand on the hilt of his longsword.

“She has proved her allegiance to Tyrrendor time and time again,” Xaden defends coldly, dismissing the man who looks old enough to be his grandfather. “It is the general's son that I’m more concerned with.”

You look him directly in the eye as you speak, raising your chin. “Sorrengail is a strong rider and skilled mender, but above all, he is a good man. I could not have chosen anyone better to share the crown with when the day comes.”

Brennan looks at you like he has no idea who you are, trying to discern if this is a dream.

Xaden finds this amusing. “She really didn’t tell you? Always so secretive, that one. Your girlfriend is heir apparent to the Duchy of Lindell, as I am to Aretia, where you stand.”

He looks to the elders, who all nod in affirmation, deeming your appraisal of Brennan satisfactory. “It’s good to have you back, Lady. Things were getting boring without you.”

You lower your head to him in thanks, Brennan quickly copying you.

You tug Brennan into the hall after you’re dismissed.

“Did you really mean that?” He asks, head still spinning.

“Every word,” you reply. “From the moment you extended that hand to me in our first year at Basgiath, I knew you were good to your core, Brennan Sorrengail. It would be an honor to share my duty with you.”

“Your mate needs you,” Marbh says, making a rare appearance.

Your heart drops. You sprint down the valley trail back to the house, attempting to ascertain what had happened, but you aren’t given a response. Marbh has always been vague.

You find Brennan tucked into a corner of your shared room, back pressed to the wall. He’s clutching a piece of parchment that you recognize to be a Basgiath death roll. He extends it to you wordlessly, and your eyes race down the list, searching for Mira, his mother, another of your friends…

The final name on the list, below the rider’s quadrant cadets, almost as an afterthought… Major William Sorrengail. His father.

“Oh, Bren,” you breathe, gathering him into your arms, “I’m so sorry.”

His entire body shakes with a sob, and it takes everything in you to not cry as well, but you remain strong, needing to be there for him. “I knew I’d never see him again,” he says in a cracked whisper, “but now…” But now it’s real.

You’d never met the man, and now you never will, but you know what a profound impact Brennan’s father had on his life, imparting so many of the qualities that you admire about Brennan; his dedication to his studies, his respect for the scribes that so many others dismiss or overlook, his unwavering compassion…

You offer a silent prayer to Malek on his behalf, asking that He show the scribe the same kindness that he had shown others in life.

“I don’t know why, or how,” Brennan rasps, “I don’t know who was there with him in the end, if Mira and Violet got to say goodbye, if my mother…” he can’t finish the sentence, words cut with shaking breaths. He loses the strength to hold himself up, collapsing into your embrace. “I should be there,” he sniffles, “I should have been there.”

“I know how much you love him. He knew too, I’m sure he did. They all do.” You hold him tighter, stroking his hair. “The girls are strong. They will mourn, but they will get through it together.”

He’s run out of tears, leaving him with a headache and a hollow feeling in his chest. He eventually relaxes, not saying a word as you smooth down the soft waves of his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He’s fallen asleep. You just hope his dreams will be kind to him.

“Enough,” you command, and all heads turn toward you. “I will not have you disrespect Riorson nor his partner in his own home. Have you forgotten what he has done for our young?”

Ulices stiffens. “My apologies, Lady.” He says the title with an ounce of venom, but yields, returning to his seat.

Violet continues to study you. You’re dressed simply, head to toe rider’s black mixed with traditional Tyrrish leather armor and intricate braids that she has only seen drawn in history books, but it’s obvious in your posture that you’re nobility - you do not dip your head below the horizon even for a moment, and you speak with the confidence that others will listen.

“We have better things to do than argue about what should have happened. There is no turning back time,” you say calmly. “I agree that we have been given a legion of students rather than trained warriors, but it has become our job to train them.”

Brennan speaks next. He’s been silent since the meeting started. “What professors have joined us should resume modified versions of their courses, and we will fill in the gaps. Match up those with similar signets for mentorship. Emeterrio can continue to lead combat training, and Devera Battle Brief. Kaori has not joined us, but I think there is an obvious replacement.”

You’re saddened by the news, but you smile softly at his praise.

Violet realizes that the scribbled amendments in the dragons section of Brennan’s book weren’t Mira’s, but yours. You’ve been close for years, then. You must have brought him here with you when you deserted. Part of her wonders if you’d attended Basgiath because you wanted to, or as a spy.

“Do not question the royal one’s integrity,” Tairn warns her, but does not elaborate further.

“The riot has decided that everyone here can be trusted,” you state. “And if anyone turns out not to be, we will do what we have to do, without hesitation, for the good of the movement.”

There’s sounds of agreement from the other six, and then the meeting is over.

“Hey,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe, clutching a bloodied rag to his face.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Mira’s fist happened,” he explains, lifting it, and you wince at the sight of his nose, the bridge split and bruising. “I’ll be fine in a day or two.”

Your heart twists. Brennan hasn’t been able to see his sisters for nearly a decade, spending the last six years in hiding and the two before that stationed across the continent with hardly enough leave to travel back and forth to Basgiath. For Mira to have punched him straight in the face instead of the tearful hug he’d dreamed of… it must have crushed him.

You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, careful not to bump his nose. “I’ll talk to her,” you say softly. “Go see the healers.”

You’ve only met the middle Sorrengail in passing, nearly ten years ago now, but she’s exactly as Brennan had described her; a younger version of their mother, and just as strong-willed. Evidently, she remembers you, scowling and crossing her arms at the sight of you, but still standing at attention — there’s no missing the Major’s insignia on your chest. Violet stands as well, but doesn’t look as sour as her sister.

You wave a hand. “At ease. I am not here to issue orders, rather to talk about your brother.”

Mira prickles, Violet looking concerned.

You choose your words carefully. “I do not expect either of you to forgive him overnight, nor for you to forgive me for my complacency in this matter. All I ask is that you show him some compassion. It has been hard for him too, being apart from his family. When your father-”

“That is not a sentence you should finish,” Mira interrupts.

“Mira,” Violet scolds softly, “be nice.”

“No,” she snaps, “I don’t think you understand. We mourned him. We called him a hero, thought he died honorably in battle when he really just deserted and changed his name.”

“He did die,” you say, and the eyes of both women flit back toward you. You look over your shoulder. “He bled out on the floor of that ballroom, and his heart stopped. Our friend siphoned away his life to save him.”

“Tairn’s previous rider,” Violet says in a whisper, as if the dragon will not hear her that way.

“Yes. Naolin.” You say his name with a heavy voice. No wonder Tairn won’t speak to her of the one who came before. That explains the gruff dragon’s defense of you, too.

Mira is silent, likely feeling guilt over her outburst as she realizes her brother still lives in the house he’d been killed in, with the son of the man who had ended his life.

“The elders gave him the name Aisereigh — meaning resurrected — as a layer of protection from those who hold vendettas against your mother. It hurt him to take it, and to not be able to give me the Sorrengail name, but it was necessary for his survival.”

Violet’s eyes land on the band circling your ring finger, a smooth strip of silver carved with Tyrrish runes. Brennan had worn a matching one when she’d seen him the day after War Games, but she hadn’t thought anything of it until now. “You’re married.”

You nod. “Three years ago, right on that bluff at the top of the valley, on a gorgeous summer day. Both of us wish those he loves most could have been there.”

“Thank you,” Violet says quietly, “for staying with him through it all.”

“I have been by his side since our first year at Basgiath, and I will remain there as long as we shall live, as I have vowed to,” you reply with the same blunt conviction that she’s used to from Xaden — that must be a Tyrrish thing. “Now please excuse me. I have a class to teach in a few minutes.”

Mira lowers her head to you in a gesture of respect. “I’m sorry,” she says, but she does not say what for.

You give her a soft smile in return, heading back into the house.

“Major Aisereigh will be taking over your dragonkind course, as Professor Kaori did not elect to join us here,” Professor Devera announces.

It’s strange to be standing on the dais as an equal with the woman who’d had a hand in kidnapping you from Brennan’s bed to torture you eight years ago, but nearly everything about your life since that night has been strange.

“I don’t know precisely what Kaori did and did not cover thus far in the term, but given that every person in this room has managed to bond a dragon, you are clearly proficient, and I will treat you as such,” you begin. “Dragons are independent, often to a fault, but do not forget that your health depends on theirs. As riders, you must learn how to care for them properly. That’s what we will be focusing on for the remainder of the term, along with flight mechanics and keeping your seat under stress.”

You glance at Brennan, who is sitting incognito in the back row, broken nose now mended, and he nods, an easy smile on his face. You’re doing great.

The lesson passes easily, your students much more engaged than you remember your peers having been in Professor Kaori’s class.

“I will be needing volunteers to help with the maintenance of the riot while they’re grounded.”

At least thirty hands shoot straight up — half the class.

The trek up the valley wall is never easy, but you make winded conversation with several of the volunteers, mainly nervous first-years who confide that they need the extra practice.

You stop at the top of the trail, cupping a hand to your mouth and calling out a few short notes, and Banrion is at your side in seconds, shaking the ground with her landing. At least a dozen others land nearby, sitting upright in waiting.

“You’ve brought children,” she appraises, eyeing them with distaste.

“Cadets,” you correct, “that you will be helping me teach. So be nice.”

She chuffs softly. “Fine.”

“I have chosen some more agreeable members of the riot to aid me today, to ease you into their care, but let me make this clear,” you say to the class, who have retreated to give you and Ban a healthy distance. “the majority still find it deeply offensive to be addressed by a human that is not their rider. Unless your bonded has joined us today, please refrain from speaking to any directly.”

You wait for nods of affirmation. “Banrion and I will demonstrate pre-flight checks once, and then you will split into groups of two or three to do the same with the remainder here.”

Once you get everyone settled, you find Brennan — he’d tagged along quietly, not wanting to part ways after the morning’s chaos.

“Well done, Professor,” he says, smiling. “You just might make this a day job.”

You laugh. “Is this everything twenty-year-old Bren thought it would be?”

“It is,” he says quietly. “And more.”

You gaze out at the field of cadets. “Marked and unmarked, living in harmony.”

Brennan squeezes your hand in acknowledgment, remembering how scared you had been when the first marked ones left for Basgiath, and each year since. It had hurt you deeply when not all of them returned.

Tairn stalks up to you, dipping his head in greeting. “Good to see you again, royal one.”

You smile. “Glad you’re still around, big guy. You have made an excellent choice in Violet. How is the golden one?”

“Still dreamless,” he answers, not deigning to reply to your compliment.

You worry your lip between your teeth, concerned.

He casts a glance around at the young cadets in the vale, who are taking their tasks very seriously. “You remain as revered a leader as you were at Basgiath.”

You’re actually touched, but you won’t dare mention that to Tairn.

“It is not an easy feat to raise young,” a green scorpiontail says in agreement, looking down fondly at the first-years that are inspecting her claws for cracks, “but the two of you are doing a fine job.”

You smile. “And how are your young?”

“Safe,” she answers. “You may come see them after dark.”

“It would be an honor.”

“Professor?” A cadet calls from across the field, sounding mildly concerned.

You pull apart from Brennan reluctantly. “Duty calls. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Kiss for your thoughts?” you ask playfully, seeing the weary look on his face. It’s been a long day for him, with multiple arguments among the assembly and all the emotions of reuniting with Mira.

“I have both of my sisters back,” he breathes, still in disbelief. “I thought I’d never see them again.”

You lay a hand on his back, resting your head on his shoulder. “I spoke with them before class. Mira was particularly upset, but she softened when I told her what really happened.”

He’s quiet. “She has every right to hate me for what I did. She should despise me for the rest of my life.”

“But she doesn’t,” you remind him gently. “She holds anger, but she doesn’t hate you. You’re her brother, and she knows you love her. You wrote her an entire textbook on how to survive the rider’s quadrant. If that isn’t testament enough, I don't know what is.”

He shakes his head, smiling softly. “How do you always know the right thing to say?”

You grin, moving to climb into his lap. “Because I know you, and I know exactly what goes on in that beautiful brain of yours.”

“Yeah?” he asks, nose brushing against yours, a ringed hand settling on your waist. “What am I thinking about right now?”

“Hmm. Probably about how long of a day it’s been, and how you’d like to unwind after all of it?”

“You’re absolutely right,” he says. “I’ll take that kiss now.”

You lean forward, connecting your lips to his, and the rest of the world falls silent, melting away until all that’s left is you, your husband, and the love you share, love that has endured death itself.

#brennan sorrengail #brennan aisereigh #brennan sorrengail x reader #fourth wing fanfic #reader insert #x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #mine #dividers by user cafekitsune #Brennan and Duchess

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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months

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Hii I saw your posts how you’ve been wanting some Liu Kang and other requests so may I request Liu Kang’s reaction to a gn!reader who obviously has a crush on him but they think he doesn’t know? You could also add Raiden and Kenshi if you’d like! <333

Thank you and take your time 🫶🏼

I LOVE YOURE WRITING!!!! ❤️💜💕

This was probably unlike what you wanted and very ooc Liu Kang??? I just think he’d be the type of guy to selflessly put others first and prioritise their safety over his own cuz he’s fully aware of his capabilities. Not saying that the man can’t be selfish but I just don’t think that he had it in him to be. If you get what I’m saying? Or I could be wrong and this is all still a bunch of ooc bollocks.

Also a tad bit of the sad. 🦦

Liu Kang finds your crush on him amusing to say the least and doesn’t say anything in regards to it out of the respect he had for you, unless it was brought up by you first, but however finds your attempts at hiding your crush on him even more amusing; essentially with the way you’d try to act nonchalant within his presence but to Liu Kang, it comes as stiff and uncomfortable to the point he’s concerned that you might hurt yourself.

He’s very flattered but that could very well easily comes across as him being a little awkward and not in a negative way either, it’s just that since he was a god, the title came along with an abundance of duties that cannot simply be pushed to one side for a later date; so dealing with such mundane matters such as crushes and the fear of rejection felt like a lifetime ago for Liu Kang.

It probably also didn’t help your case that whenever Johnny would openly confirm what Liu Kang already knew to be true, poor Raiden would attempt to defend your honour by telling Johnny to be a bit nicer to you about all this, having seen Liu Kang enter the room midway, whilst simultaneously consoling you by rubbing your back and having your head buried deep into his neck; hoping to avoid further embarrassment then you were already subjected to when it came to Johnny and his playful teasing.

While the crush you have on him is very sweet but Liu Kang fears that even if he did pursue this, he wouldn’t ever have enough time for you to form an established relationship. He wouldn’t know your interests, your hobbies, your likes and dislikes nor get to know or ever meet your family and because of that Liu Kang didn’t want to subject you to such. He couldn’t be the man that your fantasies made him out to be, he wouldn’t live with himself if he was the reason for your pain and heartbreak, you deserve everything and so much more and despite what his status maybe, he couldn’t give that to you unfortunately.

Being a god doesn’t grant him leniency I’m afraid.

And no matter how much it may tug on his heart strings, Liu Kang wasn’t one to give up his resolve once it was made. He’d enforce it and remind himself that a relationship between the two of you wouldn’t end well, and that it would only end with you inevitably loosing yourself and loosing the love you once had for him along the way.

Liu Kang only wants to protect you from the harm you’d endure if you were to be by his side. It wasn’t something he was willing to risk but he had came to respect that ultimately the choice was yours to make, not his and because of that Liu Kang would probably contemplate on whether or not it’d be a smart idea as to keeping a close eye on you, just in case. While loving him would be a blessing, it also came with it’s sacrifices.

So instead, Liu Kang chooses to watch you from afar then up close.

#mk imagine #mk imagines #mk x reader #mk x y/n #mortal kombat x y/n #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat 1 x reader #liu kang x you #liu kang imagine #liu kang x reader #liu kang x y/n #Liu kang imagines

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tarttisart · 1 year

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TSH spoiler warning.

One of my favourite things about The Secret History is how so much of the truth is veiled behind Richard's limiting perspective as the 'outsider' of the group (the original title "God of Illusions" is so fitting) so you feel just as questioning as Richard. Did the others sincerely like Richard? (I'd argue Francis did, since they kept in touch even all those years later). Was Henry actually trying to blame Richard? It's never confirmed, only speculated, as our narrator never knows for sure. And what the hell was going on with his family? Father he's not close with, mother adores him, and some vague accident as a child that left him devastatingly alone for years. With Henry himself you could write a million essays. His reaction to Bunny's death for example - is he losing his mind? Did he traumatize himself? Why did he kill himself? Was it out of agony, a result of a guilty mind he keeps trying to suppress, or sacrifice? About him, you'll see a whole range of opinions.

Was the incest consensual or was the abuse happening way before we realize, with Camilla only leaving when he tried to kill her? Plenty is really up to one's own perception based on what we're given in the text. Even with Bunny, and the way he's portrayed...if the book was from his point of view, it would surely be so different with the portrayal of the others certainly more horrific, terrifying, heartbreaking as he descends into madness at the idea of them killing someone and getting away with it. Then his friends plotting his demise, his best friend, pushing him to his own death.

Even the murder itself is so up to perception. Lots of people even suggest that perhaps the group did not even kill the man, but a mountain lion did - there's text supporting that possibility. To be honest with you, I buy it. Very tragic, very Greek.

All this to say this book haunts me and keeps me up at night and there's so many possible theories on so many things in it and I just fucking adore this novel. Endless layers, endless depths.

#The secret history #the secret history spoilers #Henry winter #Francis abernathy #Richard Papen #camilla macaulay #charles macaulay #bunny corcoran

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p3achysuki · 2 months

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A/N: hello! This will be my first Baldur’s gate 3 writing and I’m a huge Gortash simp so obviously I needed to write something for Gortash and dark urge.

summary: before the tadpoles you were Bhaal’s favorite child, you worshipped him the way he wished his sired children did. You offered him lords, ladies even champions. Yet Bhaal would feel you slip away from his grasps because of a certain tyrant proposing you an alliance.

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, angst.

Til death do us part

The first time you killed someone you didn’t have much memories about it, you remembered your dominant hand feeling sore and the warmth on your skin and the smell, most people would find it disgusting yet you found it.. comforting.

When you came back to your senses you felt the bile your stomach turn into knots, “m’lady” you heard a voice behind you say and when you turned around you saw sceleritas for the first time. You desperately tried to explain to him it wasn’t you who did it, but he laughed it off “of course it was you m’lady! Such fine work you did of them, father would be very proud of you.”

After that Sceleritas said he would lead you back home, to your real family every night you thought about that day. It wasn’t until your father fueled the urge for you to kill that you would forget about the people you murdered, the more killings you did for your father the less you started to think about them your victims.

Worshippers at the temple praised you for your work even while you weren’t the main speaker for your father yet, so many people named you the prophet who would set the world on fire for Bhaal. You didn’t realize that your kin was envious of this, Orin thought all of your sacrifices to Bhaal was a disgrace. She deserved every bit of praises that the cultist would shower you in, she’s the only one who’s a pure blood of Bhaal not you.

Orin knew about the plan you had in mind, using the chosen of Bane and Myrkul to gain control of Baldur’s gate to sacrifice all the lives that the mind flyers would take control of. You were an embarrassment to father, no spawn of Bhaal ever needed an alliance with other gods. She desperately wanted to push her knife deep in your skull to show you a lesson, but she knew father wouldn’t allow it. Father only has his eyes on you, he’s favorite child, his prophet.

The first time Orin accompanied you to moonrise towers, she saw the way the tyrant’s eyes never left you, she saw the way his eyes would scan over your figure a smirk resting on his lips when your eyes would meet his. Afterwards when you were meant to go home with her back to Baldur’s gate you would tell her you had something to do, she already knew you were spending time with that little lordling.

She tried getting information out of Ketheric, but he would always deny it. Why did they favor you so much?! You tried hiding the affection you had for Gortash, the first night you spent with him you promised yourself you wouldn’t allow it to happen again. Yet when Gortash runs his thumb against your lower lip calling you his favorite assassin, you can’t help but melt into his touch.

Gortash wasn’t quiet about his admiration for you, even in front of Ketheric he would wrap his arm around your waist “what does my favorite assassin say hm?”

Ketheric either didn’t care about the relationship you two developed or personally wasn’t against it, he would just sigh rubbing his temple before explaining more about his plan.

After a month an unexpected event happened, you haven’t had your period for a full moon cycle. You thought it was the stress from having to commit fear among the streets of Baldur’s gate until later a cleric confirmed it for you, “our lord will be delighted at this news m’lady” no he wouldn’t, he would lash against you for letting it happen, for letting the tyrant seduce you so easily.

Orin overheard what happened and thought father would finally see the truth that you were not deserving of his blessing, but instead he allowed it “while I did not command you to procreate, any offspring you produce will have my blood running in their veins I will make them of use in the future to come” Orin was livid at this, she showed her frustration to her own butler cutting and slicing him every time he would come back.

You told Gortash about the pregnancy, for the first time you were actually worried what he was going to say to you. Instead he pulls you in his arms pressing his forehead against yours, “I’m surprised your father didn’t lash against you for this” he was worried for you, so every night he tried convincing you to stay with him. He knew Orin despised you, anytime he would get near you he would see the way her eyes glared daggers into you. It was only a matter of time before she would break away from her leash and kill you, and he was worried he wouldn’t be there to protect you or his child.

As the months passed by Gortash saw that you struggled to put on your armorer as your belly started to show more, he suggested you wear something more comfortable but you scoffed and denied him each time “what kind of chosen do I look like if I’m wearing something frail?” He rolled his eyes, hells if he thought you were stubborn before you’re even more stubborn now.

Yet nobody disrespected you even while you were carrying his babe, even Ketheric would assign guards to be with you “I’m not worried about you, this child could be a successor for all of us in the future” Gortash saw through his lies though it was obvious he was worried for you, he still remembers when Ketheric sent him a letter and a gift about a metal contraption he found at moonrise.

As your due date was approaching closer you kept traveling to moonrise towers without him, he would get angry telling you that it wasn’t safe to travel “my father demands me of seeing everything at moonrise towers Gortash I can’t just disobey him”

He knew you weren’t wrong, “and what about the babe? will you keep them safe?”

“With my life Gortash, if they’re meant to be a successor for my father then I will not let anyone harm them”

Gortash regretted that day not going with you, but his lord demanded he stay behind at Baldur’s gate to attend a few party gatherings.

“I’ll be safe Gortash Orin will be with me.”

He should’ve told you that he didn’t trust Orin with you, that he would see the hate in her eyes growing each day, each passing month.

A meeting was called for Ketheric and him, and when they arrived they expected to see you and not Orin grinning in pride. “From this fourth I will be the speaker for Bhaal’s temple” Gortash felt Ketheric’s eyes drift over to him almost to see what reaction he had of this, but Gortash couldn’t speak he felt his mouth go dry as he struggled to think about what to say.

“Orin-“

“What is it lordling” she grinned again, she knew she was getting under his skin.

“The babe-“

“At Bhaal’s temple lordling, he’s not yours to keep” with that Orin left leaving only a red dust behind.

Ketheric could see Gortash digging his nails into his palms, “we must continue our plan” was all Ketheric said before leaving Gortash to be alone in his thoughts.

You both had a baby boy, but you two would never get to see him now.

(Not sure if I want to make this into a mini series or not, but I hope you guys enjoyed!)

#bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 writing #gortash x durge #gortash x dark urge #enver gortash x dark urge #enver gortash x durge #bg3 angst #enver Gortash angst #tw: pregnancy #tw: murder #gortash x reader #enver gortash x reader #enver Gortash x you

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cocogum · 2 months

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Let’s TALK about episodes 9 and 10 people… (part 1)

PART 2 : HERE

(‼️SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4‼️)

If you thought episodes 7 and 8 had so much to talk about (cuz I sure did), then episodes 9 and 10 destroyed my mind.

….

I am so tired.

We begin with a small recap of what happened last episode and it’s honestly very nice and heartwarming of Ankama to remind us that Yugo will get his ass handed to him in a few minutes.

BRO LOOK AT HOW THEY’RE DRAGGING HIM ON THE DIRTY FLOOR LIKE THAT!!

The level of disrespect these thirsty hoes have for him is immeasurable. Even if Yugo’s not a kid, the fact that the necromes didn’t hesitate to tie him up like that and sacrifice him like a lamb is jaw-dropping. It really makes you understand that they don’t give a shit if you’re an actual kid, they will hang you up like a roast beef for dinner.

Bro’s asking as if he just got here.

Also, how do you think that fall must’ve felt like? Cuz when Toross yeets him, Yugo takes a massive fall only to get his body slammed into the pavement when he gets tied up.

He gets to fall even faster because of the stasis ropes pulling him down too.

You can even hear the loud slam when he hits it. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

Btw I love how even after all that, Adamaï and Amalia still don’t trust Qilby even when he saved them from the necrome world.

Adamaï thinks he was an idiot for not using the eliatrope Dofus and…he’s right? Cuz my guy…ur scared of ruining things if you use the dofus but what are you gonna ruin in a place WHERE THERE’S NO WAKFU????

Sometimes I can’t tell whether or not that guy’s okay in his head. Like is he blind or something? You can clearly tell that the necrome world is completely deserted and has no actual life, Amalia even CONFIRMS IT for you, Toross is literally using his dofus in his world of nothing, AND it’s also literally known as the gods’ garbage bin.

No wonder you get slapped around so much, you’re stupider than Yugo!!

I never in my life thought that I’d eventually get to see Qilby booping Amalia’s nose.

And I don’t know if I should like it or if I should fear it.

Man literally booped her as if she was a kid. But then again, he IS a millennial years old so it would explain why he’d treat her like a fetus.

In a way, he really CAN see her as a kid who doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.

But like-

I never imagined this happening???? Not even in a trillion chances 😀😀

BUT WHAT CONFUSES ME EVEN MORE IS THIS :

I get that Amalia annoyed him when she said he STILL couldn’t be trusted but what do you mean by “artificial”??? I’m still confused about that.

MY QUEEN NORA AND HER GAY ASS IS BACK WITH HER SHENANIGANS GURL WE SEE U !!

You can’t tell me this scene ain’t gay 😭😭

The way she grabbed her was so sudden, it made my heart jump!! And Amalia just goes with it like a damsel in distress being protected by her knight 🥰🥰 My noramalia senses detected that shit from a mile away, you ain’t getting away!!!

That torture scene tho should’ve taken longer ngl. But Okoo being the kid that they are decided “hell nah”. It’s still a shame really but at least we got what we needed.

Also, lemme just say something about this torture scene real quick.

Not only does Yugo get sucked the living out of him, but he just got BODY SLAMMED FROM AT LEAST 290 FEET on LITERAL PAVEMENT so now his back is completely obliterated, he keeps CONVULSING, TWITCHING, and GETS HIS BONES BREAKING TO GROW LONGER ONES-

He’s feeling all that WHILE getting sucked to death. My god. I wanted to see more of that.

The only reason why he didn’t turn out ballistic was cuz Oropo was keeping him busy in his head. He literally told him that he’ll make him fight just to not think about it.

And even though Oropo does hate him (but calmed down a bit once he reunited with Yugo), he told him that even he doesn’t deserve all of this. Can you imagine the one who caused so many calamities and was ready to kill the gods because he hates you telling you that even you don’t deserve this?? It just shows how kinky this Toross guy is.

#wakfu #ankama #krosmoz #wakfu season 4 #wakfu s4 #wakfu yugo #wakfu review #wakfu reviews #wakfu season 4 episodes 9 and 10

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dangermousie · 4 months

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This girl should have been a Mountie because she always gets her man. Honestly, the fact that she melts him not once but twice and that she honestly rescues him here post jail in a more tangible sense than in school where she just rescued him from being self-sufficiently alone - is so so good! And I love that she decides to help him get his company back not because she thinks she wants back with him (she, at least on a conscious level, holds no hope or interest) but because she wants to fix injustice - and what happened to him with regard L&P was unjust. (But also, if you think about it, while not one person or one event is responsible for the tragedy, the reason FZJ went after his sister is because LX went after FZJ. And LX had no interest in FZJ at all - he never would have bothered going after the man if she didn’t ask; he knew she hated FZJ and went to be her knight and and all those other horrible things followed as a cascade - Gao's resentment getting turbocharged, his being in position to take over, the sister thing and the aftermath. Of course she's not at fault, but being who she is, I bet she feels responsibility.)

But anyway, she finds out he's going to apply to this dinky company for a job (because it's the only one he has any chance with due to his record) and she ditches her fancy foreign job and applies to this barely paying anything hole. AAAA!

His vulnerable face when he hears her voice!!!!!

The contrast between how he was, how they were, before and now is just - and the thing is even with her, look how wary he is and how generally down when nobody is looking and he doesn't have to hide. He really does come across as beaten so badly by life - his arrogance to Gao isn't false but it's not the entire picture. It covers up the many many cracks and it all breaks my heart.

He may supposedly not care (good luck) but look at him shoulder ahead to clear a path so as to make sure she can walk without the box dudes getting in the way.

The interview is genuinely hilarious.

Have you noticed that even this early on, even as fucked up and locked down as he is, he's still ten times more alive around her than at any other time.

That would be a great name for a show!

The way he enjoys watching (not longer) his girl run circles in her typical fashion...

Oh my God ahahahaha

This is everything! I am dying!

I do love how this drama can turn from hilarious to heartbreaking on a dime. Because we go from there to that guy reading her resume, so insanely impressed and we see Li Xun's face as he confirms that his sacrifice was worth it but also how utterly far she is from him now, miles bigger difference than before.

Look at that last cap, he still loves her so utterly! (Unlike Gao, he is happy for someone who did better than him...)

#cdrama #chen feiyu #zhang jingyi #lighter and princess

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notori · 6 months

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On a more genuine note from my previous post though: I do not think Imodna will go the same way as Vaxleth for a few reasons.

Vax's story was very personal to Liam. It always frustrates me when people act like the Raven Queen 'took Vax away' (and thus she is a bad goddess) when in fact she answered his prayer and granted his wish. Vax's story is about "Take me instead!" - not some kind of "Don't let Vex die!", and certainly not someone who was raised from the dead without their consent and bound like a puppet. Unless such an ending is expressly what Marisha wants for her character, I don't see it being narratively satisfying. Even if Laudna dies in sacrifice to save the others, because of the breadth of Delilah's power, it would be more of a general "I'm dying to save everyone" and less personal (and impactful) than Vax's trading his life for Vex's.

I joked about how this is Delilah Briarwood vs Laura Bailey again, so don't sweat it, but it's true! The players play their characters differently. Liam loves tragedy and plays it well; Laura loves romance and plays it well. Percy also had a dark streak with a hunger for power, and Vex would not let him go. I see more parallels with themes like: "I feel cruel, but in control." and "Take the mask off." Meanwhile, Imogen and Keyleth are different characters and their love interests have different relationships with death. In the end, the reason Keyleth could not do anything against the Raven Queen isn't because she's a god and Keyleth is not, but because Vax - as a paladin - chose to honour his faith and uphold his end of the deal. Imogen is not in that position because Laudna is not in that position. Laudna may see herself as just a puppet, or a risk, or a dead end - but we the audience, and Imogen, know that she is not (maybe a bit of a calculated risk). If anything, I see us on the precipice of an arc of Imogen inspiring Laudna to fight for her independence again and figuring out a way to do that (this is a world of magic after all).

And that theme of fighting for independence is something that has been there since the beginning. We have seen it both in analysis and confirmed on 4SD that Laudna's relationship with Delilah is in many ways similar to struggling with addiction. And now, into year three of C3, we are really seeing that take form when things get rough. When things get out of control, when you get desperate, that's when you grasp at anything to make it easier. It would be a real kick in the teeth to have her not overcome that struggle. Of course, there's the possibility that she does overcome that struggle by getting rid of Delilah and dying as a result. But out of game it has been referred to more in line with addiction that is constantly managed rather than addiction that is ended cold turkey - which for some people is the only way. I'll admit this one is more a personal preference but I do see it overall leaving a bad taste if Laudna were to die from Delilah in some way (again). Presuming they resolve issues with the solstice and resurrection spells, True Resurrection does exist and I'm certain the Hells would work off a 25k GP debt to bring Laudna back for good (which I see as more of a final episode/epilogue/post-game situation).

Regardless, it's a beautiful story and I'm sure that whatever happens will be what the players want. However, in this case I genuinely don't see them repeating something they have done before. Although we saw many parallels last night, there is still much which sets Imodna and Vaxleth apart narratively.

#imodna #critical role spoilers #critical role

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arcane-trail · 2 years

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Samhain: The Ancient Celtic Origins of Halloween

Halloween is one of the most important days of the year among many Wiccan and goth communities. It is also a fun mainstream holiday that kids with a sweet tooth look forward to all year!

Halloween is based on an ancient Celtic festival known as Samhain, which marked the end of the harvest season and the start of the cold and dark winter months. The supernatural was thought to be more potent during this darker half of the year, and rituals conducted at Samhain would protect the community over the coming months.

Many modern Halloween practices draw on the traditional rituals conducted around Samhain, brought to the United States by Irish and Scottish immigrants. But let’s take a closer look at the traditional Samhain festival.

Gaelic Festival of the Harvest

Samhain belongs principally to the Gaelic world. It was an important festival day in Ireland, Scotland, and the Isle of Man. It was held annually on 1 November, which meant celebrations started during the evening on 31 October since the Celtic day began at sunset.

While Samhain was best associated with the Irish world, similar festivals were conducted around the same time of year by other Celtic communities. In Wales, it was known as Calan Gaeal, in Cornwall as Kalan Gwav, and in Brittany as Kalan Goanv.

It is no surprise that this date was considered important by many different communities. It is halfway between the Autumn equinox and the Winter solstice, which, in the northern hemisphere, is when the days start to get shorter and colder. This was extremely significant in many parts of the world, such as northern Europe, where the sun barely rises in the height of winter. The Norse people living in Scandinavia also marked this important moment in the Wheel of the Year with a different festival known as Alfablot.

Ancient Festival

There is good evidence that Samhain was an ancient festival. Several Neolithic passage tombs found in Ireland are aligned with the rising sun on Samhain, suggesting that the date was already marked out as important. A first-century BCE calendar, known as the Gaulish Coligny Calendar, calls this time of year Samoni.

The earliest clear evidence for Samhain as we know it today comes from the earliest examples of Irish literature, which date to the 9th century. Ireland was already Christianized by this time, so the traditions and practices described are a mix of old Pagan customs and Christian overlays and influences.

There is some evidence to suggest that the Pagan festival of Samhain was associated with the god Chrom Cruach, who seems to have been both a solar and a fertility deity. He is a wizened god hidden by mists who accepts “firstborn” sacrifices in exchange for good harvests.

While firstborn sacrifices were probably, in many cases, first harvests, there is also evidence that Chrom Cruach received human sacrifice. But rather than babies, he seems to have received kings. It is suspected that several Irish bog burials represent the ritual sacrifice of kings or other important persons. There is good evidence that many of them were interred around the time of Samhain.

Samhain Gatherings

By the 9th century, Samhain was a time of festival and celebration. Communities would gather in large groups to eat, drink, and be merry for about a week around the specific dates of Samhain. This meant that Samhain also had political importance as it was a time to reaffirm bonds with neighbors and allies, and leaders could confirm and pass rules and laws.

Many of the stories of Irish literature are set during Samhain as this is a time when people came together for festivities, marriages, and also conflict.

With the community gathered, the practice of mumming or guising, the root of trick-or-treating, was practiced. People would dress up in masked costumes to hide their identities and go from place to place dancing and reciting verses in exchange for food. Traditions around hospitality and welcoming guests meant that denying these passersby food could bring bad luck and perhaps also a trick from the disappointed players.

Day of the Dead

Samhain and also Beltane, which falls on May 1 when the days start to get longer, are considered liminal moments. At these times, the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest, and there is more interaction between the mortal and the supernatural. Ghosts, fairies, and demons are considered to be more powerful when the sun is weak, so Samhain marks the beginning of a dangerous period in general. The festival is a portal moment when forces can easily move between worlds.

In Irish literature, there are many stories of deceased ancestors returning to see their homes at Samhain (and they aren’t always happy with what they see!). More dangerous entities can also pass between the worlds, killing livestock and burning down homes if they so choose.

For this reason, Samhain rituals were often conducted at burial mounds, which were considered portals to the other world. Protective bonfires were built, and sacrifices were made to appease the spirits, called collectively the Aos Si. When people returned home, they would take a spark from the ritual bonfire to light their own hearth and lay out an extra plate for the honored ancestors.

Divination

The thin veil between the world meant that this was also the perfect time for divination practices. For example, stones were often cast into the bonfire during the festivities, and then an experienced diviner could read the future based on their positioning and burning.

Back at home, families would also engage in fun divination practices, often using apples and hazelnuts, both associated with the practice.

Games such as bobbing for apples could reveal whether a person would marry or have children in the coming months. People would also peel an apple in a single long strand while asking a question. They would then throw the peel over a shoulder, and the shape of the peel could provide an answer.

Two hazelnuts were named for an individual and their heart’s desire and then placed on the fire to roast. If the hazelnuts jumped away from the fire, this was not a good sign for the match. But if the two roasted quietly side by side, this was a good omen.

Interested in divination? You will find Tarot Cards and Runestones in the store. Read our guide to how to use Tarot Cards here.

Witches of Samhain

In modern Paganism and Wicca, Samhain has been adopted as one of the principal Sabbats of the Wheel of the Year. While practices vary, these modern festivals are also based on the belief that this is a moment when the veil between the worlds is thin, so this is the ideal time to engage with our ancestors and the supernatural.

It also seems that Samhain has long been the domain of witches. One of the principal sites in Ireland where Samhain bonfires were built and rituals conducted is known as the Hill of Ward, which is the burial mound for Tlachtga.

Tlachtga was the daughter of the Arch Druid Mug Ruith, and she traveled with her father, learning his secrets and becoming an accomplished witch. She was reportedly raped by the sorcerer Simon Magus and, as a result, gave birth to three sons on this very mound, where she also died.

The resting place of the powerful witch was clearly considered a potent portal during the time of Samhain.

Some believe that Tlachtga only became a witch in Christian sources and, before this, was a Pagan sun goddess. This would also make her an appropriate goddess for Samhain, alongside the sun dog Crom Cruach.

How will you be celebrating Halloween?

It is not hard to see the roots of modern Halloween practices in many of the rituals and activities associated with the ancient Gaelic festival of Samhain. But for most people, Halloween has lost its spiritual meaning and is just some good fun.

But there is a growing group of Neopagans and individuals who just want to connect more with the natural cycles of the year that are reviving traditional Samhain practices.

So, the question is, how will you be celebrating this important date in the calendar? Let us know in the comments section below.

[Read full blog post here]

#grimoire #samhain #witchy #witchcraft #wicca #occult #pagan #paganism #celtic #halloween #babywitch #witches of tumblr #witchblr #magick #pagan witch #beginner witch #witch community #book of shadows #witch tips

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x-doing-ur-mum-x · 5 months

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hii I have a request!! Could u do a fluff Abt ghost being a girl dad?? The daughter being like maybe 4-6? Just him being a good dad plsss??

Oh my god!! He really does give girl dad energy a lot of them do!! Also requests are open I'm running low on them!!

Simon "Ghost" Riley as a girl dad!!

Warnings!!: None pure fluff!! 💗💗

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

When Simon first found out you were pregnant he was scared shitless obviously he knew there was a possibility you would've ended up pregnant cause y'all didn't use protection but the weight of reality didn't hit him until you had confirmed it.

Of course he wasn't going to leave you especially while pregnant with his kid no matter what happened he wouldn't be able to bring himself to do it. Overall during your pregnancy anything you needed he got, he wouldn't let you do anything on your own, not even cook dinner. He took on the responsibility of working, cleaning, shopping, cooking everything you used to do he did, you were carrying his kid for nine months it's the least he could do!!

As soon as his daughter was born he was the first one who made skin to skin contact with her, he absolutely loves her he even tried convincing the doctors to not take her to rub tests because he just wanted to hold his daughter forever.

Everyone it was her birthday he'd literally beg Price to let him have the day off to spend it with his little girl, spoiling her so much new dresses, toys, stuffies anything she wanted he got

Every time she comes running into your guys room a mess of tears and sobs from a nightmare Simon always lifts up the blanket for her to come cuddle with him, kissing her forehead reassuring her nothing is going to happen to her and that daddy's always here for her.

Deployments are a nightmare for him he just wants to stay with his daughter and wife he feels like he's missing out so much on their lives

After deployment he always comes back with a gift for his daughter that reminds him of her and he thinks she'll love one time it was a stuffed giraffe and a stuffed bunny sometimes it's Legos.

If he ever finds out his daughter is getting bullied in school he's furious he calls a meeting with the bully's parents, the teachers, the principal he's absolutely pissed at they didn't do anything

At the end of the day, he just loves his daughter he's willing to sacrifice himself to keep his family safe and happy

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

#ghost riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you

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venusjeon · 1 year

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golden arrows

the god Apollo is dared to seduce the first mortal his eyes set upon without revealing his identity, so changing his appearance slightly and taking the name of Hoseok, he crosses paths with you. but as it happens, the only man you say you'd ever lie with is Apollo... also, you're on a quest to steal his golden arrows.

♔ PAIRING: apollo!hoseok x mortal!reader

♔ GENRE: greek mythology, historical & bet au, adventure, fluff, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 9.6k

♔ WARNINGS: religion themes, drinking, swearing, period-typical sexism, animal hunting&sacrifice, nudity, kissing, mentions of non-consensual sex, sex happens but no smut soz, murder

♔ BETA: @yoonoclock <3 thank you so much again !!

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: nvm the fic can we appreciate the banner bc i kinda served with it. no but this has been in my wips for almost as long as i've had this blog so i'm v excited for you guys to read it :D

Heroic Age

Sing to me, ‘o muse, the song of a priestess who was loved by a god willing to forgive her wicked crime.

It was a peaceful night on OLYMPUS, the home of the gods, where everyone had gone to sleep hours ago under a black sky dusted with stars.

Everyone save Apollo, Hermes, and Dionysus, who refused to be parted with their jug of wine that refilled on its own so the party should never end. So much of it had they consumed, though, that even the god of the drink had come to neglect his cup, slumping over the table while his half-brothers slouched on their chairs.

But what they were yet to lose was their sense of humour, as they teased each other about their tragic love lives. Now, it was Apollo’s turn to be taken the piss out of.

“At least the objects of my desire run towards me, not away,” laughed Hermes. “What was that nymph’s name, Daphne?”

Apollo gestured his discrepancy by waving his index finger side to side. “That was the doing of that winged fuck, Eros.” Famously, he had struck Apollo’s heart with an arrow that kindled love and Daphne’s with one that banished it. Pursuing her through the forest until she begged to be turned into a laurel tree to escape his advances, Apollo learned never to get on the wrong side of the god of desire again. “He’s always had it in for me, I tell you.”

“Sure, yes, blame him,” twice-born Dionysus said, cheek still glued to the table. “We can all play that game.”

Hermes nodded. “Admit it, brother, only the thrill of consorting with an immortal draws them to you. And it fades quickly once they realise you can’t pleasure them in bed.”

“Oh, you tell yourself that’s it.”

“I bet you my herald’s staff.”

“Bet what, exactly?” Apollo scoffed. “It’s not like I can stop being a god. Your joke of a point cannot be proved, you fool.”

“Except, it can,” Dionysus said as he sat upright, but Apollo didn’t understand, so he sighed, “Isn’t intelligence supposed to be one of your domains? We’re no strangers to changing our appearance so that mortals can’t recognise us, so seduce the first one you see without revealing your true identity. It will confirm they’re not pretending to love you just because you’re a god.”

“Another of my domains is prophecy, you seem to forget. I can’t lie. Otherwise, who would believe my oracles?” Apollo pointed out, then smirked. “It’s also why I can be trusted when I say you two are my least favourite Olympians.”

He was allowed to joke, right?

“More merit if you succeed. Which you won’t, of course,” Hermes said with a smile shared by Dionysus.

Apollo pursed his lips. He was aware the wine was to blame for his taking offence at the mocking tone of his brothers, but he couldn’t help his own pride.

“Very well. Kiss your staff goodbye.”

He would show them.

Past noon the next day, shining Apollo descended from the summits of Olympus having taken the likeness of a youth whose good looks equalled his—physical attraction was after all a part of love, as was Aphrodite’s other realm, beauty, a part of Apollo’s identity.

He would take the name of Hoseok. It meant ‘a name known throughout the entire country’, so it could perfectly be a new epithet of his, like Phoebus or Delius were. Yes, not a lie. All good. So, Hoseok chose a forest near the city of TEGEA to wander through, hoping to come across someone. That someone was you.

Bowstring drawn and arrow aimed at three sword-wielding men.

Without a second’s delay, Hoseok made appear his golden bow and arrows, known to never miss their archer’s target. Surely coming to your rescue would be a good start? Except... you might need none.

The men were close enough to trust their own weapon outdid yours, failed to consider you’d move fast enough to dodge the sharp edge of their bronze swords and that by grabbing your arrow by its shaft, you’d manage to graze their skin with its tip, forcing them to step back with a grunt.

Unwilling to wait and find out how they’d counterattack, Hoseok nocked and then released his own arrow, which as intended, landed right before their feet in the form of a normal wooden one.

You turned around with a frown. Who–?

“That can’t be fair, three against one?”

The sound of the men fleeing behind you at the sight of this stranger halted your thoughts. His face certainly did too, as well as his bright hair that shone under the sunlight like spun gold. With a satisfied smile, he stored his weapons in the quiver he carried on his back and approached you, chest slightly out as if he owned the forest. From each step he gave seemed to spring a harmony that filled the air, but you still gripped your bow, wary. He noticed. “I mean you no harm.”

Once he was in front of you, Hoseok was able to take a better look at your face, one he instantly liked. What a relief that bet or not, he’d pursue you. However, he also noticed your smile was forced, as though being saved was an inconvenience.

“Good to know. Thank you for the help. I’ve no time to lose but if our paths ever cross again, I promise to repay your favour.”

And just like that, you walked past him.

“Wait!” He turned around to catch up with you once he got over the unforeseeable blow. “Allow me to escort you out of the forest. There may be more bandits lurking about.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

Clearly... He chuckled, “But I might need yours.” Just not for the reason being discussed.

Now that he thought about it, was this the work of Hermes? After all, he was the one in charge of keeping roads and travellers safe, as well as thieves.

You looked him up and down while walking. A man with such a build, he certainly would not need help, and if he wanted something of yours, he could just take it—or try. So he really was just a kind stranger, huh. “As you wish.”

Hoseok smiled, held hands behind his back. “Tell me, what is your name and where do you come from?”

“I am Y/N, and I’m a priestess of Apollo in PYLOS.” Hoseok almost gasped in delight. Well, this was fate!

Although based on the fact you dressed a man’s knee-length chiton and wore your hair tight up in a subtle bun, he’d sooner have guessed you were a follower of his twin sister, the huntress Artemis. The reason for it was probably that it was safer to travel as a man, but either way Hoseok was fucked. His priestesses were sworn to chastity.

“We are a long way from Pylos.”

“And going further away north-east, I know. I’m… on a quest.” The stranger’s visible intrigue pressured you into providing some context, “My younger brother Jungkook is a servant at the royal palace, and two days ago he was charged with treason for trying to murder the prince, of which I believe he is innocent. We weren’t allowed to speak but he’s a sweet boy, such evil would never cross his mind. He’s being kept in a cell now, awaiting an execution only I can prevent, for the king said he’d be pardoned if in seven days I brought him Apollo’s golden arrows...”

Hoseok had to stop himself from making a dramatic halt. If Jungkook was indeed as innocent as you claimed, you could pray for him to aid your brother either by lending you the arrows or making the king see reason. You needn’t be on a quest. Unless, “You mean to steal them.”

“I’ve no choice,” you said bitterly with your eyes cast down, ashamed all the same. Priestesses were supposed to honour the gods, yet you were about to rob one of them, yours. It was a blasphemous defiance, hubris, but also the only way to save Jungkook. You glanced at the stranger, wondered whether he was contemplating stopping you. “I bet you regret scaring those three robbers away earlier. It is odd that I haven’t rightfully been struck down already with a golden arrow shot from the Heavens for what I’m about to do. I know I’d deserve it.”

Hoseok understood your hands were tied. It was not you whom his anger was directed at, but the king, for sending you off on such a mission. He’d deal with him.

First, though, came you. No matter your circumstances, you were the first mortal he’d seen, and he’d already decided where to display Hermes’ staff in his palace in Olympus.

“Maybe Apollo has looked into your heart and seen it is pure, and will punish that who is making you do this instead. If only you pray so to him.”

You scoffed. “I think he has more important things to do than listen to the prayers of a nobody.”

A nobody? But you were one of his priestesses! There were few mortals dearer to him.

“I assume, then, that you’re headed to CORINTH.”

“Correct. I’m to catch a ship there to cross the gulf. But enough about me. What do they call you, and why do you find yourself in this forest?”

A forest that, you’d failed to notice, was crowded. Nymphs of nearby trees, flowers, lakes, and springs, all gathered to stare at Hoseok in awe as he walked. Animals too. They could see his ethereal self under his disguise, yet dared not approach him, hiding instead from your sight. Were he not busy, he wouldn’t mind lying there to sing and play the lyre for them.

“I am Hoseok, and my brothers… want me to meet a girl. I was on my way to her.”

“A girl? Do you mean, to take as wife?”

Hoseok astutely answered the first question only, “Yes. I’m told she will likewise be in Corinth.”

“If you can keep up, I’d not mind a travel companion.” Hoseok was about to say keeping up was not a problem with him when he realised the animals were dispersing and the nymphs forming a crowd ahead. You followed his gaze and groaned. “Another obstacle? Who am I, Theseus?”

Hoseok laughed, “Every hero faces challenges.”

Thief, rather. Though being called hero did make a flush creep across your cheeks… until reaching the hubbub, where all colour drained from them. The nine Muses were there, a youth knelt and clasping the knees of one of them in the manner of a supplicant.

“Please,” he begged, “I didn’t mean it, it was just a jest!”

They weren’t moved by his tears. “All here heard you set yourself above shining Apollo, speak ill of him. It is only fitting your mouth be sewn shut with a lyre’s string as punishment.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows, amused. Nice one. He wished he could be there in his real form to do the job himself. But seeing you attempt to gulp the lump in your throat beside him, he could tell you were horrified. Did you fear to share the same fate? You would, in truth, had Hoseok caught you trying to steal his arrows, but now that he knew your justification and was set on seducing you, a different future was to be woven by the Moirai.

He whispered in your ear, “I think I dropped my bag of coins back where we met. I promise I won’t be long.”

You sighed, “I’ll watch the spectacle in the meantime.” To know what to expect when your time came…

The fair-voiced Muses recognised Hoseok as he left, pretended not to. If he was undercover, he must have a reason, and they wouldn’t out him. They weren’t surprised when he returned as Apollo.

He appeared out of nowhere, the god you planned to slight, so beautiful your eyes almost hurt as when one looks at the sun—radiance shone from his head, his curly hair so bright that a golden crown must camouflage in it under the sunlight, much like Hoseok’s. Guilt stung your heart when his gaze found yours and he smiled warmly.

Apollo then turned his attention to the kneeling youth, who’d begun to sweat. “What do we have here?”

“This boy boasted he was a better musician than you.” The Muses laughed, and you almost did too. It was a ridiculous claim.

“Did he?” Apollo’s good mood seemed untempered. “Well, I’ve no time for a music competition, so shall we just agree you’re in the wrong?”

The youth was quick to nod, yet dared not look away from the ground. “Y-Yes, Phoebus!”

“Do you regret your crime?”

“Awfully, lord, I do!”

“Well, tempted as I may be to make an example of you, today I’m feeling merciful. You’re forgiven.”

There was a pause in which the whole forest fell silent, asking themselves if they’d heard right. A god letting pass an act of hubris was unprecedented. You held the air in your lungs, unsure whether to release it in relief, as this might just mean your venture wasn’t doomed.

“Forgiven?” Even the Muses were dumbfounded.

“It’s not often mortals show remorse, so as long as they do, there’s no need for harsh punishment. Especially if they’re pretty.” Apollo glanced at you, making your lips part, before turning around to face the youth again. “Pour a libation for me and we’ll call it a day, eh?”

Later, long-winged Selene was pulling the moon behind her from the chariot she drove in the sky to bring the night when thanks to Zeus’ sacred laws of hospitality, xenia, an old couple near ARGOS was happy to feed you dinner and provide a bed for you to sleep in—one you’d have to share, which was absolutely fine and not the cause of your arisen nerves.

But once lying on it, the tension in your muscles weakened as you listened to Hoseok play a soothing melody on a lyre he’d found in a chest, and a faint smile settled on your lips.

“This song… I once heard Apollo play it,” you confessed. Given Hoseok was the author of it and had taught it to no one yet, he frowned. He was certain he’d never met you before that day, so how could you have heard him play it?

“When?”

“I was a child. Jungkook and I were playing in the forest outside of Pylos when we heard it. We followed the sound and found Apollo sat against a rock with all sorts of animals surrounding him, listening to him play and hum. It was lovely.”

Even though the gods were known to harshly punish mortals who spied on them, Hoseok smiled too. He played often for the animals, so he didn’t know which specific day you were talking about, but he was glad it served as a happy memory that eased your journey into the embrace of sleep. Although it probably had to do more with your brother.

Hoseok couldn’t blame you, as he also loved his sister deeply, had even slain a divine creature for his mother once. Family was as important to you as it was to him and for that very reason, he realised then that Hermes’ staff was already lost to him. There was nothing else you could afford to care about.

Little did you know, there was nothing else Hoseok chose to care about but you.

Early the next morning, you reached Argos, only that you went around instead of through it.

The great city wasn’t closed, but the old couple had warned you Apollo had stung its citizens with his arrows of pestilence because their queen had neglected him in her devotion, sacrificing to all the gods but him. She should’ve accounted for the detail that while one of his sides was healing and medicine, the other was plague and disease.

Hoseok didn’t regret it. It was her fault her people were suffering. But the grim look on your face when you’d been told… He knew the news had cancelled out the hope born inside you yesterday and that you’d immediately asked yourself that if he’d done that over some sacrifices, what would he do to you for stealing from him?

Midway through the day, while hunting for lunch, he decided to lighten the mood.

“But why not? Most priestesses don’t serve for life!”

A part of you hoped Hoseok was exaggerating his dismay at your refusal to marry not to make you laugh, but so you wouldn’t suspect it was in fact real– No. There was no sense to that thought. Where did it even come from? You were a priestess, he was to be married, and you didn’t know each other.

“My family would have to come up with a dowry and they can’t afford it.”

“I think any is a small price to pay for a man to keep your bed warm.”

Oh… so that was it? He was indignant you wouldn’t know such pleasures? You’d never craved them, honestly, rather thought they were only possible for men. Interesting. But not important right now, as opposed to the rabbit moving about in that bush. Nocking an arrow on your bow, you whispered, “The only man I’d ever care to sleep with anyway is Apollo."

Hoseok felt smug for a second, as he followed your step, then reminded himself this was bad. You were supposed to fall for him, not Apollo. “I’m sure every man back in Pylos prays daily that you quit priesthood.”

A snort betrayed you and the rabbit darted away from the bush, so seizing the chance, you released the arrow and assured lunch. “Thanks Apollo!”

“Don’t mention it–” During the short duration of a missed beat, Hoseok’s heart had forgotten that it was common for mortal archers to thank him, the god of archery, when they hit their targets. Sweet merciful Zeus! Why was he on edge? “Uh… D-Don’t mention his name. We don’t want to summon him, do we?”

Before heading to the lifeless rabbit, you nodded, figuring he was right. “I reckon you can’t wait to meet the girl your brothers want you to marry.”

Hoseok didn’t follow after you, instead watched as you picked up the rabbit and struggled to remove the arrow from its body on your way back to his side. By your tone, he could swear you’d spoken from a place of jealousy, distant as though it may be.

“I find I wouldn’t mind if the trip to Corinth lengthened.”

You looked up once near enough to tell him you would, but the words flew away from your mind the moment your eyes landed on him.

Hoseok was pleased he’d taken this appearance. You were mesmerised, eyes narrowing, likely wondering how you hadn’t noticed until now how attracted you were to him!

Or not. “You’ve a spider crawling up a curl.”

Hoseok was starting to think Hermes and Dionysus were right… The warmth of his divine presence tended to do the job for him, his wit and charm really played a secondary role. Now, he was forced to give up the former, but you, Hoseok feared, were proving to be either immune to the latter or remarkably good at pretending so.

Or maybe it was his fault fully… Just, why the hell did he get so nervous around you?! It was like he couldn't muster a grain of confidence. He’d have to make an effort for the first time not just to flirt, but finish a conversation feeling like he had things under control. That he was in charge.

It wouldn’t help that he wasn’t used to being treated as an equal by a mortal. Much less given commands. ‘Skin the rabbits while I gather some wood’, ‘Burn the fat and bones as a sacrifice to Artemis, will you?’... Even when he’d offered you his share because he, as an immortal, didn’t need food to survive, you’d responded with an assertive ‘Eat’. Not to say he didn’t like it. It was amusing, in a way.

But passing by a small lake fed by a waterfall, Hoseok decided it was his turn.

“Fancy a swim?”

“Sure. And to be fed grapes, while I’m at it,” you chuckled, under the impression Hoseok was joking until you turned around and saw him getting rid of his chiton. Your eyes widened like those of Athena’s owl at the sight of his bare body, looked away only once you’d fought through your shock. “My brother’s life is at stake. If you wish to stay, then this is goodb–”

“Oh, come on, just a quick dive. When was the last time you bathed?”

“Back in Pylos.”

“Thought as much.” You discreetly smelled yourself and at once agreed hygiene shouldn’t be neglected. There was just one thing… and by the way you kept quiet, Hoseok noticed. “What, you’re afraid of water?”

“Not water itself, but drowning.” You played with your fingers, embarrassed to say, “I can’t swim…”

A loud laugh made you snap your head towards its source to see Hoseok approach you naked without any shame. To your own surprise, your feet rooted to the ground instead of stepping back as he promised, “I’ll hold you.”

Never would you have imagined you’d strip naked before a stranger and get in a lake with him, but there was something about him that inspired trust. You knew he wouldn’t take advantage, his gaze keeping away from your private parts proved it so. When the two of you slipped into the water, Hoseok kept a firm grip on your waist, even though you managed to touch the bottom if you stood on your tiptoes. For a second you wished you didn’t, so he could hold you even closer…

“Loosen up, Y/N, you’re as taut as a bowstring,” he said in a low voice, as he was so close he needn’t be loud, and you swallowed hard while nodding.

He next told you to move your limbs about and before you knew it, you were swimming and splashing him and giggling.

The dark began to skew the sky with stars sooner than expected, though, and you blamed the pleasant time spent at the lake for it. You were supposed to sleep in Corinth, where the festival of Aphrodisia was being celebrated, but the city was so far that you were going to miss your ship at dawn!

Luckily, Hoseok had a plan.

While you were picking up some flowers to present to foam-born Aphrodite for lack of a proper offering, he snuck away into the forest, somewhere you wouldn’t hear him summon his kin. A mention of Selene’s name was enough for the goddess to have her white horses land before Hoseok.

Elbow resting on the edge of her chariot and palm holding her jaw, Selene sighed, “I’m busy, Apollo, in case you haven’t noticed. Night doesn’t just come on its own.”

“Speaking of which, I need you to hold back the moon until we get to Corinth, me and–”

“Your priestess, yes.” Selene smirked when Hoseok frowned. “It gets boring up there. One resorts to gazing down, and your lame attempts at seducing this girl provide the funniest distraction.”

“Will you help me, or not?”

Selene laughed, “Gladly.”

And so it was that you reached Corinth before midnight, hair however completely dry as the day had lengthened by many hours. You could piece together no explanation for it, so it had to be what Hoseok mused, that the gods must be making mischief.

Despite the late hour, the streets were crowded with pilgrims who sang hymns to the goddess of love and beauty, and every column of every building was entwined with flowers. The air was also perfumed with the scent of cinnamon but as a priestess, you knew that was to mask the spilled blood of the animals being sacrificed outside the great Temple of Aphrodite, that you entered to leave your modest offering.

Hoseok waited outside, and scoffed when he spotted a familiar face dancing in the crowd, a garland crowning his head. It was the mighty messenger Hermes—or Taehyung, as he liked to address himself when mingling among the mortals in such form.

“Didn’t take you for a faithful follower of Aphrodite’s, little brother,” Hoseok laughed when they stood face to face.

“Well, you know her. She’s likely to welcome me back into her bed if I sing her praises. Literally.” Taehyung looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, made appear his herald’s staff out of thin air. “I hope you haven’t forgotten about our bet? Your priestess will die of old age before you make a move on her.”

“Love isn’t born in a day,” Hoseok retorted in his defence, ignoring Taehyung counting to two with his fingers. “Besides, she’s on a mission of her own, it isn’t currently a prime concern of hers. Be patient, I have no deadline.”

"Even all the time in the world won’t be of help to you, Hoseok.” Taehyung patted his shoulder before joining the dancing crowd again.

Soon, you walked out of the temple and came to a stop in front of Hoseok, too quiet. He frowned.

“What is it?”

You looked everywhere but at him. “She must be waiting for you, the girl you seek to wife.”

Ah, jealous? “I think she’ll be pleased if I keep you company until your ship sets sail tomorrow. Make sure no harm comes to you.”

Since you did want to be with Hoseok for a bit longer, the corners of your mouth quirked into a smile.

The night was spent in a cloud of food, drink, dance, song, and laughter. You loved Jungkook dearly, but it was alleviating to set aside the anxiety suffered for his fate, as well as yours. Wine was good at that, casting away all the bad from one’s mind.

At some point, Hoseok decided it was bedtime. Relying on xenia and the generosity of strangers, he knocked on the first door he saw and a family surely opened it to welcome you in. They showed you to a spare room after some chatting and the second you were alone, you wrapped your arms around Hoseok’s neck and made your lips join.

He was taken aback, but readily licked both your lips before kissing you back ardently, like you were the goddess and he your worshipper. You closed the distance between your bodies to melt into his warm embrace. Hoseok knew you craved him inside, so as a tease, he slipped his tongue in your mouth when you relaxed your jaw and slid it across yours as his cock would. That caused you to moan, and your core pulsate with lust. This might be one of your last nights alive, so why not treat it as such and give in to your desires? To the sweet passion Hoseok stirred inside you?

You would’ve, had he not suddenly pulled back.

Your mouth tried to seek his, even let out a few whines, but he wasn’t having it. Why? Why too did he look like he was suppressing annoyance?

Hoseok did want to savour every sweet bit of you, but what he’d tasted on your tongue was an abundance of Dionysus’ wine. In truth, he only needed take a look at you, so drunk you could barely stand, supporting your weight on him not to stumble. Hoseok sighed.

As a god, he wasn’t subjected to the laws of man. They didn’t apply to him, nor did their morality, so plundering you in that state wasn’t a crime. Mortals were created out of clay to serve the immortals and be playthings to them… and yet Hoseok wanted to earn your love. Not because of the bet, which meant less to him the more time he spent with you, but because he was catching feelings himself.

Besides, none of this was real to begin with. You were just convinced you were going to die, hence why you were doing what you normally wouldn’t.

“Not like this, Y/N.” And carefully, he led you to the bed, where you fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

Your eyes fluttered open when Selene’s sister Eos cast open the gates of dawn.

An ache grounding into your temples, you sat up only to realise the other side of the bed was empty, thanked the gods for it when memories of the previous night resurfaced and embarrassment drowned you. What had you done?

And more urgently, what time was it?

You couldn’t risk missing that ship, so you slapped your own cheek—yes—and pulled yourself together, dismissing every thought that didn’t include Jungkook before joining the family for a quick yet lively breakfast.

The walk to the port was however a quiet one, where neither you or Hoseok seemed to know how to get rid of the awkwardness, and because of that, it was disconcerting when he held your hands once stood by the ship you were to embark, so tenderly like they were injured and he didn’t want to hurt you.

“I want to come with you.”

It took you a second to react. “No. We don’t both need to suffer the wrath of a god.”

“But I won’t let you die.”

You withdrew your hands, smiling wistfully. “My death is not for you to impede.”

Hoseok bit his tongue. “Have faith. We will meet again.”

Sailing away you pondered over how, if you ever did see Hoseok again, it would be as a married man. You’d rather rot in the depths of Hades’ dead kingdom.

For the moment, you prayed Poseidon was in a good mood and his waters remained peaceful as fortunately, your destination was another: the home of the Muses, as the cave in MOUNT PARNASSUS was known to be, and the place where Apollo’s golden bow and arrows were safeguarded when he had no need for them.

Merely crossing the gulf of Corinth would take you a full day, so in the meantime, Hoseok set off to Pylos. He wanted to get to the truth of the matter.

He found your brother guarded only by bronze bars, snuggled up on the cold floor of the palace’s underground cells. Apollo squatted next to him to tuck behind his ear the fluffy dark hair that covered his face, and a whisper of Jungkook’s name was enough to waken him.

Indeed, it was wide awake how he screamed and cowered at the corner of the cell.

“It’s been but four days, the king said I had seven! You can’t execute me yet, whatever the prince says!”

“I’m no executioner, Jungkook. I’m Apollo.”

“The new cook?”

“The Olympian!”

“Oh…” Yes, he should’ve guessed it was absurd for the palace’s new cook to come greet him in his cell. Wait– Did this man say he was Olympian Apollo? Jungkook rubbed the remaining sleep off his eyes and wondered how he could not have recognised those shiny blond curls! “Oh.”

The god barely stifled an eye-roll. “I’m here to hear what happened. Tell me, and know that I’ll see a shadow behind your words if you lie.”

Jungkook gulped. “I was wrongly accused, lord. It is the prince who should be sentenced to death.”

Apollo cocked his head to a side. “The prince?”

“I’m his serving boy. The other day, I overheard him plot against the king with his stepmother. Everybody knows they’re having an affair… Well, everybody but the king, of course. I was going to warn His Grace, but the prince caught me and claimed I was the one behind the plot. The king decided that I’d be executed in four days from now if my older sister Y/N failed to bring him–” Jungkook shut his lips at once.

“My golden arrows.”

Oh, no. He knew of your quest? “Y/N is a priestess of your temple here in Pylos! She’s devoted to you, of all the heavenly gods fears your wrath most!”

“I know.” Apollo stood up and gave him a reassuring smile. “As I know you are telling me the truth.”

At nightfall, you arrived in DELPHI, heart hammering its way through your chest, as on the morrow you’d reach Mount Parnassus and carry through your blasphemous theft.

The nerves were clearly not going to let you sleep, so there was no point in making use of Zeus’ xenia. Instead, you were waiting for the change of guards at the entrance of the great Temple of Apollo—where the high priestess Pythia served as an oracle uttering prophecies under divine possession—so you could sneak in. Once inside, you walked to the end of the naos only to kneel before a tall statue of Apollo that made no justice to his ethereal beauty, and raised your hands into the air with your eyes closed.

“Hear me, child of Leto, he who presides over this temple! If ever I’ve served you in the past, if ever you’ve loved your sister as I love my brother and would do anything for him, grant my prayer and… do take out your vengeance on me. But not tomorrow when I rob you of your arrows, only after I have saved my Jungkook from the sword. Please, heed me!”

“I’ve never known anyone so foolish as to announce to a god her plan to steal from him.”

Your eyes snapped open to see the Pythia lurking in the shadows behind the statue. Shit.

Coming to your feet, you wanted to reach for your quiver and cut her life short before she alerted the guards. You were in a sacred place, but what was one more unforgivable sin?

What stopped you were Apollo’s own lethal weapons, his golden arrows, magically appearing in her hands.

“Phoebus has cursed them. Any who isn’t him and uses them will perish,” the Pythia explained flatly, as if she was hearing his voice in her head and repeating them out loud. “He wants you to give them to your king.”

She handed you the arrows, at which you stared astounded. Apollo knew? Had heard your prayers?

“What of my fate?”

“No harm will come to you by his hand, or any other,” she promised. “You’re under his protection now.”

Tears quickly flooded your eyes and then streamed down your cheeks. Your shaky breath morphed into a laugh and your laugh into a sob, all out of relief. Hoseok randomly crossed your mind, and the next question you didn’t know whether was addressed to the Pythia or yourself. “But why?”

She approached and cupped your cheeks, using her thumbs to wipe your tears gently. Even if you neither knew nor trusted her, you didn’t step back. Her touch was warm, felt strangely familiar…

“Because he’s looked into your heart and seen his light.”

Apollo was done with Hoseok for the moment. Or so he’d thought.

He’d meant to watch you from the clouds save your brother and be done with the ‘tomorrow I may die, so I’ll behave like nothing matters because nothing does’ cast of mind. He wanted to matter to you, to be loved by you.

Alas, his hopes and dreams were crushed.

The fifth day of your quest you spent sailing back to Corinth, but your sixth one, you finished entering Argos. Now, why in Hades would you do that?! Death dwelled in that city, had you forgotten? Or mayhap… you feared not disease, after being told Apollo would protect you.

Alright. He’d make you invulnerable like Achilles, then. No problem. He was about to when he saw two guards suddenly arrest you for no apparent reason in the middle of the street and drag you to the palace. Immediately, Apollo took the appearance of Hoseok and stormed off from Olympus—though really not that bothered in view of the fact that it meant he got to meet you again.

You, however, weren’t sure you were glad to see him. Not there, at least.

“Y/N, what a coincidence!” he joked before the guard manhandling him into the throne room forced him on his knees next to you. “Do you buy your vegetables here too?”

“Who is this?” the queen asked annoyed.

She was standing in front of the two of you, a small crowd of courtiers gathered as an expectant audience that seemed to be about to watch some spectacle. If only you knew what it was about. You’d been shoved there with no explanation, were about to demand one right before Hoseok showed up.

“He says he’s her companion, Your Grace.”

The queen frowned. “But the prophecy spoke of one only…”

Hoseok quelled a frown. Prophecies passed through him, and there was none yet that involved Argos. No, the city was supposed to suffer until he saw fit.

You, on your part, had had enough. Had wasted enough time. “I command you let us go right now! You’ve no reason to detain us!”

The queen scoffed, looking down both at and on you. “You command me, brat? I’d order your death if you weren’t already destined to have your throat slit at the sacrificial altar.”

What? In dismay, you turned to a Hoseok who seemed to not fear the queen of Argos at all, rather looked at her suspiciously.

“Perhaps if you were as kind as to tell us why, Your Grace,” he asked, disdain hidden behind his faked respectful tone. The queen wasn’t blind to it, but let it pass, choosing to just glare at him.

“Over the smallest thing, Apollo has cursed the whole of Argos with a plague. My seer claims the only way to appease his anger is to sacrifice in holy ritual the one person who dares enter the city.”

Hoseok almost laughed. Her seer was a fraud.

“Your Grace!”

Before you could even whip your head around, a guard had snatched the golden arrows from your quiver and walked over to the queen. You tried to stand up to retrieve them, but another guard held you down.

“What have we here?” The queen realised whom the arrows belonged to the second she had a closer look, gasped in shock. “It cannot be! Are these–”

“Mine.”

Everyone, including you, stared at Hoseok in disbelief.

The queen faced him. “So, you’re the thief?” Oh, no, of course! He didn’t know what had happened in Delphi, believed you’d stolen the arrows and would be punished by anyone who found out… Fool. Why would he cover for you? “Well, well. Apollo’s stolen weapons returned and a double human sacrifice… My loyal subjects, tomorrow Argos is saved!”

A loud cheer erupted, one you could still hear from the dark cell you and Hoseok were taken to by guards who then left to celebrate, trusting the bars to do their job.

You joined your palms and forehead with the wall, mumbled, “What use is your protection now that I’m stuck?” Hoseok knew that question was addressed at Apollo. The next one, however, asked as you turned around and walked up to him, was loud and clear and meant for Hoseok. “And what are you doing here? Are you mad?”

He flinched back, confused. Weren’t you happy to see him? “I came for you.”

You wanted to ask ‘What about the plague?’, but what instead came out was, “What about the other girl?”

Other… So you already considered yourself his?

Hoseok gazed into your eyes as he confessed, “My brothers wanted me to meet a girl, and I have.”

Your lips parted slightly. He’d turned down a possible bride in favour of you? He was mad. Mad enough to return whatever feelings you were struggling to suppress. You turned away from him, arms crossed. “A girl who’ll lead you to your death.”

Neither of you was dying tomorrow, Hoseok would sooner kill the whole of Argos than let anyone lay a finger on you.

“A girl who’d love me.”

Frozen in your spot, you daren’t turn around. Love was a strong word, and you’d known this man for just a few days. Eros’ arrow can’t have pierced your skin! Although… you couldn’t deny it must have grazed or scratched it.

“I don’t, I’m a priestess. What happened the other night… was a mistake. I’m sorry, I regret it.”

Since you weren’t looking, Hoseok allowed his lips an ironic smile. He could tell you were lying, trying to convince yourself rather than him. “You can both love Apollo and be in love with me.”

Shocked, you turned around. “Are you asking me to risk my position in order to what, be your lover?”

“It’s the gods who’ve brought us together,” Hoseok explained, walking closer. You held your breath, “who’ve shut the gates of my mind so I can think only of you. I believe the gods wouldn’t put your position in peril.”

And true that was. Priestesses were supposed to be spouses of the deities they served, so once Hoseok revealed his identity, you’d be relieved to learn your vow of chastity hadn’t been broken, as he was the only one it didn’t apply to.

You glanced down at his lips, then shook your head as though resisting a spell. “In my mind, there is only Jungkook.” The cell wasn’t too spacious, but out of stress you still paced around it. “And now we’ll die apart because I trusted a god who may have tricked me.”

Hoseok chuckled in the middle of the deep breath you were taking to calm down.

“You didn’t think I came here without a plan?” He walked over to put his hands on your shoulders and give them a gentle squeeze, putting an end to your pacing. “I’ll do everything in my power to reunite you with your brother. Do you trust me?”

You remembered when he told you to have faith you’d meet again. And you had. Besides, what other choice was there? “I do.”

Hoseok let go of you and went to lie down on the small bed, hands behind his head and eyes closed. “Then we’ll have to wait a couple of hours.”

You stared at him. He really didn’t want to just bed you, was actually looking out for you in a way Apollo was failing to. Or maybe he had sent him… Either way, Hoseok meant not to demand your love but deserve it, making your problems his like you shared a soul and body—and his, you realised then, you no longer wanted to resist.

“A couple of hours?” Hoseok nodded. “Well… it’s cold.”

“It is?”

You sighed, not knowing how to say it. “You once told me any is a small price for a man to keep your bed warm.”

Hoseok opened his eyes before the sentence was over and propped himself up on one elbow. You sat on the edge of the bed, a trembling hand rising that shyly caressed his cheek until he placed his own over it, and pressed a bit harder so you could really feel him, how hot his divine silver blood—known as ichor—was turning. You did, flashes of the night you kissed him making it into your mind. How his lips felt around yours, his tongue inside your mouth, your bodies pushed together…

Both leaned in at the same time, melting in a kiss that led to a night of pleasure dedicated to Aphrodite.

Meanwhile, Dionysus was doing his part.

Having taken the form he liked to call Jimin, he’d pretended to be a cupbearer at the feast the queen of Argos had held to celebrate the end of her punishment. No one noticed he didn’t belong as he poured his special, unmixed wine into the cups of every person in attendance, masking its strong taste with his powers. In a matter of hours, the whole court had lost their senses and passed out where they were, as mortal parties tended to finish in the presence of the god of intoxication.

Satisfied, he skipped his way to the cells, where he found you and Hoseok all cuddled up, skins glowing with the vigour you had loved each other with.

Jimin waved his hand and the cell’s door opened slowly, as though by a draft, but you turned around at once to see no one. “The gods be praised!”

Only seen and heard by a Hoseok who kept gesturing him to leave behind your back, Jimin laughed, “Dionysus, specifically.”

He disappeared then, and you and Hoseok didn’t hesitate to get out of there. What you did hesitate to believe was what your eyes witnessed once, in search of Apollo’s confiscated golden arrows, you entered the banquet hall. A whole court in the arms of Morpheus…

“There they are,” Hoseok whispered not to wake anyone, pointing at the end of the table, where the queen sat and in front of whom the arrows lied.

He walked over to get them, staring at the woman responsible for so much offence. Shielding the action with his body so you wouldn’t see, Hoseok grazed her arm with the tip of one of his sharp arrows, drawing blood. That was enough for her breath to still, her life to end.

You made it safely outside the city, near the house of the elderly couple who’d hosted you days past, even, but at some point you looked up at the moon and halted your rushed pace a tad abruptly, forcing Hoseok to do so as well since you were holding hands.

He frowned. “I don’t think this is the time to sightsee, Y/N.”

“But what’s the point?” you cried. “Pylos is more than two days away. There’s no way we can get there before sunrise.”

Hoseok looked up at the sky behind you, smiled. “Indeed. Though we might get there at the same time.”

You turned around for a peach-coloured sunlight to filter through the clouds and blind you.

Hold on, how could this be? It had been night for only some hours! And yet, before the two of you landed her chariot Selene’s sister, the rosy-fingered Eos. You held Hoseok’s hand tightly. In the presence of a goddess, one could not help but feel tense.

“You, child. Are you Y/N of Pylos?”

“I am, l-lady.”

She smiled kindly. “I’ve been sent to give you a ride, Y/N. I believe your king expects you.”

Relief washing over, you grinned at Hoseok, who caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. “This must be Apollo’s doing!”

“Must be, yes.”

You turned back to Eos and nodded. “Off we go, then, lady.”

In about twenty minutes, people in front of the palace of Pylos were making space for the white horses to land their chariot.

Everyone stared in awe. Doubtless they’d thought you were going to fail, yet here you were escorted by a goddess, with Apollo’s golden arrows in your quiver, and… a foreign man holding your hand?

Once Eos had flown away to drag along the dawn to the West, you discerned on the judgemental faces of the Pylians the conclusions they had jumped to. Conclusions that were correct. You had given your virginity to a stranger, become a whore in the eyes of the world…

Hoseok was the one who let go of the hand he’d been holding ever since you lay together, and you missed his touch right away, like it was the air your lungs needed to breathe. He put some distance between you and with a respectful bow of his head—that was just for show—said, “After you, priestess.”

Eager to hold Jungkook in your arms again, you nodded, then led the way to the throne room.

The second you walked in, all heads turned to the king, who was sat on his throne on the top of some steps, looking at you in the same shocked manner everyone was. Nobody dared say a word. The only sounds in the room were first that of your feet taking you in front of the steps, Hoseok closely behind, and second that of you reaching into your quiver to get hold of the arrows.

The king leaned forward as though spellbound by the beauty of the deadly weapons, without taking his eyes off them ordered a guard, “Bring the boy.”

You turned to smile at Hoseok and he smiled back, but once you’d directed your attention to the door, he continued glaring at the greedy king. He obviously believed luck was on his side, given you’d come back from a suicide mission with a prize for him, but he’d soon learn the gods were not to be fucked with.

“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed as the guard dragged him into the throne room. Having eyes only for your brother, you didn’t notice the prince and his stepmother arrived next and took the king’s side while sharing worried looks. Hoseok did, sensed they feared Jungkook would reveal their plot now that he wasn’t going to be executed. You were about to go make sure he was alright, but the king’s voice stopped you.

“Uh-uh. The arrows first.”

Apollo’s curse in mind, you carefully presented them to him. Hoseok watched as he examined them while you ran to embrace Jungkook free of impediment, then passed them on to his son.

Who wasted no time in stabbing his neck with one of them.

Gasps and screams tore the silence apart, echoing as if they came from the stage of a theatre. In fairness, you might as well be in a tragedy play.

Shielding Jungkook with your body out of instinct, you kept still not to draw the gloating prince and his stepmother’s attention, eyes wandering to a Hoseok who otherwise walked over to you without a care for the blood crime just committed. The murder of one’s relatives was against the natural order, punished by the Erinyes themselves. Fortunately for the prince, he wouldn’t be tormented by the goddesses of vengeance, as the curse was already doing its work, causing him to choke in the midst of a speech in which he was declaring himself the new king of Pylos.

To everyone’s confusion but yours, he fell down the steps, lifeless before reaching the floor. His stepmother and lover shrieked, knelt beside him to try to shake him awake, but to no avail. It was then when she found you among the courtiers and through her tears and grief, glared at you.

“What have you done?!” she shouted, Hoseok alone noticed, surreptitiously curling her fingers around the shaft of one of the golden arrows scattered about. “I’ll have your head for this!”

What followed happened so quickly that you had little time to react.

Arrow raised in a fist, the queen lunged herself at you, but Hoseok stopped her right before she reached you by grabbing her wrist, and as she fought to free herself, he received a small cut on the hand. Eyes wide with horror, you gasped.

No.

No, no, no, no…

“Is his blood silver?” Jungkook whispered to himself, and after a second his words transformed from a distant, incoherent echo to a clear question. Upon realising he was right, you frowned.

Hoseok snatched the arrow from the queen and she stumbled backwards, glancing at the guards.

“Come to the aid of your queen, I command you!”

Despite their reluctance, they were going to, but froze when Hoseok nocked the arrow on his bow and this one turned from wooden to gold before their eyes… and not just that.

Something changed about his appearance. Was it the hair? The eyes? You couldn’t tell. It was subtle enough to miss it yet substantial enough to know that your Hoseok was actually a god in disguise.

No other than Apollo, in all his glory!

As you blinked a few times trying to make sense of it, he aimed his arrow at the queen, and playing deaf to her pleas, slew her. Of course, his curse wouldn’t apply to an immortal.

When he turned around, a sea of courtiers fell to their knees, but he cared only about you, standing there in shock. Suddenly taking pity, he didn’t look forward at all to telling you he’d tricked you because of a bet…

A man thankfully rose to his feet and approached him before he had the chance to open his mouth. “Heavenly lord! You’ve blessed Pylos with your presence to free us from a family unworthy of our throne. Tell us, what can we ever do to thank you?”

Hoseok– or Apollo? This was tough, since you could somehow see both at the same time... Well, whoever, replied, “For now, consign the bodies of these three to the UNDERWORLD with all proper rites and burn them.”

Had Hoseok’s voice always been honeyed? His words certainly were... Though looking back, he’d never lied to you, just tip-toed around the truth. Didn’t make you feel any better, but he was a god. What an insignificant mortal felt must be irrelevant to him.

The courtier nodded, followed along with everyone the guards who carried the dead royal family outside of the throne room. Only you and Jungkook remained. And him.

“Leave us, little brother,” you ordered softly.

“But–”

“Listen to your sister. Fear not, I won’t harm her.”

Jungkook trusted that, he just didn’t want to leave your side ever again. However, it became clear to him that defying a god was the stupidest idea when he met his eyes. There was a subtle threat reflected on them.

He didn’t need to be told twice to go then, and the silence he left behind was beyond tense.

You daren’t look at Apollo now that you were alone. The man you’d spoken so casually to, bossed around, shouted at, made love with. But when you did muster some courage, you realised he didn’t seem so different in appearance, it was just that you weren’t blind to his splendour anymore.

He beckoned you to come closer and you obeyed with your face cast down as, would he punish you for doing the king’s bidding and stealing from him, after all? To your relief, he only raised your chin gently to make you look at him, but your eyes instead landed on the small cut on his hand, and without thinking you held it to check whether it was deep, careful not to touch his blood as ichor was deadly to mortals.

“Y-You’re hurt…”

“This little thing?” Apollo smiled at your concern, as it was no more than a scratch. He blew his divine breath on the wound and in seconds, it healed completely. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

“You owe me nothing, lord.”

“Hoseok is fine. I rather like the sound of it when you say it.” He sighed when you just nodded. “We didn’t meet by chance, Y/N. Hermes and Dionysus dared me to seduce the first mortal my eyes set upon without revealing my identity.” Oh, so worse than you’d imagined. “It didn’t occur to me that you’d beat me to it.”

Your lips parted in confusion. “To seducing you? But I’ve done nothing but disrespect Apollo– I mean, Hoseok– Uh, you…”

He chuckled, “Believe me, I know. Without meaning to, you’ve bewitched a god well enough to make him overlook hubris. Do you know what that means?”

You shook your head.

“It means I am in love with you, and that I want you to be mine.” You avoided his gaze out of shyness, but he cupped your cheeks and kissed you like he had done back in that cell less than an hour ago, taking your breath away—only this time, you felt the heat of the sun itself on your lips. He pulled back only to whisper against them, “You know I do not lie.”

You did know that. But could you forgive so easily being deceived over a bet? Even the god of whom you were a priestess?

Truth was, it wasn’t just the fear of what then seemed to be a certain death by the hands of Apollo that drew you to his embrace the night before you left Corinth. Neither was it just lust in Argos. He’d earned your love, so much so that you’d agreed to become his lover, were likely going to quit being a priestess at some point to be wed to him. The bet was won long ago, he knew he needn’t claim your maidenhood for it, and yet he’d stuck around.

A different face mattered not.

He loved you, and you loved him.

“I am already yours.”

Hoseok hummed pleased before you kissed him, and you felt his smile grow under your lips. It made you smile too, and the two separated to laugh. Then, he headed to the steps to pick up his golden arrows and put them in his quiver.

“You’re leaving?”

“I must leave for Olympus. I have responsibilities I’ve set aside this past week, but I’ll come back whenever you utter a prayer to me. I promise.”

He saw the disappointment on your face and placed a hand over your belly, making you frown. “Intimacy with the gods always bears fruit. I can already feel twins growing inside you, and I cannot wait to raise them alongside you.”

At the thought of your children playing around the forest the same way you and Jungkook once did—or Apollo and Artemis, at that—you couldn’t help but smile again. Not to mention that you would not only preserve your position as a priestess, but also be revered for giving a god descendants.

Hoseok kissed you one last time, and when you opened your eyes, he was gone, but his warmth remained.

#bts au #btswritingcafe #jung hoseok #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x reader #hoseok fluff #hoseok imagine #bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts hoseok #apollo!hoseok #bangtan imagine #bts greek gods #jung hoseok scenarios #bangtan #bts fanfic #jhope

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antimisery-core · 3 months

Text

Thoughts about Spn’s ending (!spoilers!)

Every now and again, the fact dean dies in the end keeps me up at night. And, in thinking about it, I’ve only come up with more reasons why it was bitterly unfair.

He was always going to die the same filthy death he thought he deserved. The same death Cas, Sam and everyone that’s ever loved him had been trying to get him to stop chasing. Deans death confirms that what you are born as and made into due to circumstance is immutable. That you can never change enough to escape your fate. That no sacrifice is big enough to change your destiny and that every step you take to escape it is, in fact, a step toward it. His death is the writers taking every self loathing thought he’s ever had and saying, “You’re right, you were born doomed. You never had a chance.”

What cruelty it is to give dean hope that not only can he have a life outside of hunting but that maybe, just maybe, he might even deserve it, only to prove that he doesn’t by killing him.

This is what gives the “Chuck won” theories merit.

Because only God could be that cruel.

#supernatural #spoilers #dean winchester #deancas #dean x castiel #sam and dean #spn #sadbuttrue #sam winchester #castiel #jimmy novak #he deserved so much better #destiel fanart #i will never recover #i will never shut up about this #i will never get over this #deanisthemosttragiccharacterintheshow

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lu-is-not-ok · 9 months

Note

hello i have no idea if you have analyzed Impending Day Sinclair yet or not (or if u r even still doing analyses) but if you are.... perchance could you analyze Impending Day Sinclair??

Aaaalright, let's get right into it. This is... gonna be an interesting one.

So, as always, let's start off with the Abnormality - Doomsday Calendar. And, my god, what an Abnormality it is. Four whole phases in its fight, each one with unique passives and attacks and mid-battle events (which, mind you, the Fandom Wiki still doesn't list)... I've got my job cut out for me here.

Now, because of just how many phases this fight has, I'm going to go in a slightly different order than I usually would for Abno analysis. We're gonna go Phase by Phase, as I personally think that's a slightly better way of analyzing it than throwing all the Attacks on the table at once and trying to dig for a meaning there.

Got that? Alright, cool.

The fight against Doomsday Calendar starts with Phase 1, which for the sake of the Analysis I'll call the Prelude.

During the Prelude, we're met with a couple of Doomsday Clay Dolls, a sort of "minion" entity to the Abnormality proper.

Let's briefly talk about those Clay Dolls so as to not get distracted later. First of all, it's not really shown to us how these Dolls are made so to say, but we do get to see the Calendar revive these Dolls with every progressing Phase. This is confirmed by their passive, Idolatry, which says that they don't die when reaching 0 HP, simply staying there untargetable and immobile until the next phase, or until the Abnormality is fully surpressed.

Interestingly enough, the Abno Logs describing the Clay Dolls never explicitly say that they're made of clay, but there is that implication that that's the case as their bodies are describes as resembling muscle fibers, and with their name being corrected from "flesh dolls" to "clay dolls" in an Abno Log later on. I don't think it's too important to Doomsday Calendar itself, but I did notice that just now and have a feeling it connects to some wider themes that are slowly being presented throughout Limbus Company.

Beyond that, their passive name and Lust skills imply they only exist to admire, love, and serve the god-like figure that is Doomsday Calendar.

Looping back to the Prelude, during this phase Doomsday Calendar does not act and is completely unargetable. It has only one Passive during this stage - Let the Blood Festival Flow, describing what has to be done to progress to the next phase.

This gives us a very interesting image already. Each of the phases after the Prelude are "Festivals", or specifically religious celebrations. A very dark and ironic take on this idea, seeing as each of these Festivals requires a human sacrifice, though I may be getting a little ahead of myself.

Once the Clay Dolls are defeated, Phase 2, the Blood Festival begins. The Clay Dolls are revived, with an extra one joining in. Doomsday Calendar awakens, sprouting arms that it uses to attack the Sinners.

Here, Doomsday Calendar makes use of two different Sin Affinities. Sloth for the attacks Quake and Slam, the animations of which are the Calendar literally just slamming its fists against the ground as if having a tantrum; and Lust for Live Offering, in which the Calendar grabs a Sinner and puts them in its... uh... Mouth? Facehole? Basically, the Calendar is hungry and needs to be fed.

The first mid-fight event happens after one turn. Immediately, the text here paints a specific image. The sacrifice done to appease is called a gift, a tribute if a Clay Doll is offered. It's described to be the way to calm someone down that the Abnormality likes the most. The gift it specifically seeks here is fresh blood, and it becomes satiated once it recieves what it wants.

Perhaps the phases are Festivals to the Calendar as it's recieving gifts in the form of these offerings, but to the people around it they're really more like Rituals meant to stave off whatever calamity this god will bring.

Something else to note here is an interesting sense of inevitability. Doomsday Calendar becomes satiated by the blood, yes, but it only calms down "for a moment". It will inevitably grow hungry once more, and will need to be fed again to quiet down its tantrums.

Once again, the Calendar's Passive here gives us an idea of the next phase - Let the Fire Festival Ignite.

Upon being damaged enough, Doomsday Calendar's phase 3 begins, the Fire Festival.

In this phase, all of the Clay Dolls begin Burning, creating fire within their masks and gaining the Wrath Affinity skill to belch out the fire, perhaps expelling it out as if trying to get rid of it.

Additionally, Doomsday Calendar takes on some interesting behavior here. It doesn't actually attack, only using a guard skill named Stalwart Altar, something that further exemplifies its role as something to give Ritualistic offerings, as well as adding to the idea of it being inevitable, indestructible. Something that will always come back, no matter how many times it's staved off.

Beyond the Phase-changing Passive, Doomsday Calendar also has a second Passive during the Fire Festival - Frenzy, which inflicts burn to all its enemies.

If the Blood Festival was about satiating the Calendar's hunger for blood, then the Fire Festival is about cooling down its simmering rage and raging fire.

The second mid-fight event takes place two turns into this phase. The text says that to weaken the Abnormality's flames, one would use cool water, before noting that the Sinners don't just carry buckets of water around. Does this imply that the 'proper' Ritual here would have been to offer up water as a gift? It would make sense, after all during the Blood Festival the Calendar only wants blood, not specifically human blood. Perhaps in that case, just animal sacrifice would have sufficed as well.

Tangent aside, if a Sinner is chosen to be offered up, the prompt for the skill check specifically asks for someone with a "cold heart", and even beforehand the text asks for someone "cool" to be offered up instead of water. Upon success, the Abnormality's fervor is cooled, and its flame shrinks to a flicker.

Note again the idea if only pushing back the inevitable. The Abnormality's flame isn't fully put out, it only shrinks to something much more manageable, something that will need time to build up again. These Festivals aren't really solutions to the problem, they're merely bandaids and duct tape meant to give people a little bit more time.

The last part of this phase is the Passive that tells us of the next one - Let the Star Festival Fall, which activates when Doomsday Calendar is hurt enough.

During Phase 4, the Star Festival, none of the Clay Dolls act, and the Calendar only uses one attack - Universe Aflame, which has Envy Affinity. First, it uses them on its allies, and if the last mid-fight event, it uses it on all the Sinners, which causes a unique death animation when it kills. And uh, it will Very Likely kill, because that shit is a 35-45.

As for the reason it's an Envy attack... I believe the event that happens after it kills its allies explains it well.

The Abnormality isn't the one being given an offering here, and it's not the one causing the calamity, rather it's only a gateway, a vessel for the actual cause of the Doomsday - the stars.

Stars are... an extremely important theme in Limbus, and it began as far back as Lobotomy Corporation. I don't want to go on too long of a tangent about that here, since it's only a small part of Doomsday Calendar, but let it be known that the stars in this series seem to be entities of unimaginable power in their own right.

Back to the event at hand, the text here describes the stars as "twinkling", saying that when they shine, they will rob the Sinners of their sight.

That specific idea makes me think of the sun specifically, as its (hopefully) common knowledge that staring directly at the sun could blind you. This is fitting for Doomsday Calendar, which includes a sun-like design as part of its stone plate. Doomsday Calendar being related to the sun also explains a lot of its other quirks, such as its connection to fire and even the whole thing with human sacrifices, as that connected with it being clearly inspired by Aztec stone calendars further relates it to the idea of a sun god.

Just like with the other sacrifices, this offering is also called a "gift", though here it is explicitly given to the stars rather than the Abnormality. This event also forces you to pick a Sinner rather than a Clay Doll, and the skill check prompt explains why - the person being offered up needs to have a voice that could "lull the stars to sleep". If this lullaby succeeds, the stars are put into a deep slumber, their light leaving people be "for a while".

For a while... again with that idea of inevitability. Putting the stars to sleep only puts off their awakening for later, it doesn't actually stop it. With time, they will inevitably twinkle once more, and their starlight will again threaten to "blind" everyone.

While this may not be enough to fully stop the stars, succeeding at this skill check is enough to suppress Doomsday Calendar.

That was... a lot. Let's take a look at the Abno Log before we try to come up with some themes for this thing.

The main details that we learn from these Logs are as such:

The pedestal the stone plate is on is actually made of wood, it only looks like it's woven from muscles.

The plate is confirmed to be a form of calendar, tying into the idea of foretelling some inevitable calamity.

The plate physically changes with each progressing Festival, being noted as becoming more ominous with each change.

Being killed via offering to the Calendar doesn't seem to kill in the traditional sense, rather it seems to disconnect the consciousness of the offered from their body and... it's unclear what exactly they see since Yi Sang's too traumatized to make sense in the Log, but it's clear it's some form of End of Everything.

Now then... What the hell kinda themes can we extract from all this?

The biggest one that I've probably spoiled in this write-up is the theme of some inevitable calamity. An End of the world, whether literal or metaphorical, that can never be truly stopped, only delayed indefinitely.

Another theme I can see here is this dissonance between two parties. Something that one sees as a horrible act being seen as something to celebrate by someone else. Sacrifices seen as gifts, Rituals seen as Festivals, the stars' light bringing forth darkness for others.

Last theme I want to bring up here is the concept of a harbinger. A calendar with a deadline on it isn't what's causing that deadline, it's only warning you of that deadline approaching. Likewise, the Star Festival shows us that the Doomsday Calendar isn't the one directly causing calamities, it's only a vessel through which other forces act, and through which they can also be calmed to delay the inevitable.

With all of that laid out... Impending Day Sinclair. Oh man, Impending Day Sinclair.

Let's start off with the Awakening attack, shall we? Here, the... staff? Mace? Hammer? The weapon that Sinclair uses takes on a form mimicking the shape Doomsday Calendar's plate has during the Blood Festival phase. This corresponds nicely with the effect this attack has, being healing and granting a buff on a kill, as if devouring the target similarly to how Doomsday Calendar needs blood to be satiated during the corresponding phase.

The dialogue line, "I’ll crush you…", doesn't really tell us much by itself. Sinclair's delivery here is sort of strained, not exactly scared but not angry either. Anticipating, perhaps? Readying himself? Trying to show restraint? It's a little bit hard for me to tell. What I do find interesting is how this line seems to roughly correspond with the type of attack Doomsday Calendar does during its Blood Festival phase - pounding and slamming the ground with its arms. Likewise, the type of attack Sinclair goes for here is slamming down onto the target, pushing them further down to the ground.

Considering how the Blood Festival phase shows us Doomsday Calendar seemingly having a tantrum out of impatience, is this meant to be a reflection of Sinclair in some way?

Of how he acted out, not exactly out of impatience but more so out of the anxious anticipation of his upcoming prosthetic procedure, leading to him breaking his family's trust and indirectly causing them to be "crushed" by Kromer?

Then, there's the Corrosion attack. Sinclair's weapon here takes on a form mimicking that of Doomsday Calendar's plate during the Fire Festival phase, showing the progression of intensity. The mechanics and animation aren't as close of a parallel to that fight's phase, considering Doomsday Calendar only guards during it, but I think there is still something to be noted here.

During the Fire Festival, Doomsday Calendar can be best described as "simmering" in my opinion. Letting its raging flame be known while also seemingly calmly waiting for an offering to be given. Likewise, Corroded Sinclair could also be described as simmering in this attack, gaining a buff but also being hurt if he fails to kill. His dialogue line's delivery also gives off that vibe of a controlled frenzy - sounding calm yet at moments being so intense it almost makes him sound ecstatic.

His line here, "You, too, will be a live offering.", is... interesting. It's as direct of a reference to the Abnormality as it can get, but there's just something about it that makes me wonder. The wording of 'You, too' brings to mind the image of someone having already been offered up beforehand. Who was this previous offering? Who is this current one?

In the Fire Festival phase, the offering given to the Abnormality is meant to weaken its flames, to cool its fervor. It patiently waits for it, like an Altar, while damage is caused all around it. Perhaps, just like in the Awakening the calamity being brought forth represents Kromer, the Corrosion represents how Kromer patiently waited for the second 'offering', Sinclair himself, to show up at her altar, while N Corp's Inquisitors burned down everything for her in the meantime.

Finally, we have the Sin Analysis portion of this post.

Impending Day's Sin Affinity is Wrath, the Sin of defiance and the audacity to try and change the world. I think that perfectly represents what sort of 'impending day' this E.G.O represents. By acting with Wrath, by trying to delay the inevitable procedure and trusting Kromer, Sinclair became the harbinger of the calamity she brought.

Just like how in Doomsday Calendar's fight delaying one calamity only brings forth another, Sinclair delaying the end of his world that losing his organic body meant to him only brought forth a different kind of end to his world.

When it comes to Sin Resource Cost, Impending Day requires two Sins - Wrath (3 of them) and Lust (2 of them).

Wrath requirement is already partially explained by the Affinity. Sinclair needs to wish to defy his reality, to delay the seemingly inevitable, to be willing to rebel against his family, for the Kromerity (that is, Kromer calamity) to take place.

Lust is an interesting Sin requirement here. I believe it's meant to represent Sinclair seeking fulfillment, specifically a fulfilling life and a form of social fulfillment. On one hand, he's seeking a way to continue living this his organic body, as it's the way of being he finds far more preferrable and comfortable to the cold prosthetics he sees his family using. On the other hand, there's the social fulfillment that comes from befriending Kromer and listening to her further justifying his own disgust. Both of those contribute to him being compelled to trust Kromer, thus bringing forth the Kromerity.

When it comes to Sin Resistances, interestingly enough the only one Impending Day Sinclair shares with Doomsday Calendar is being Fatal to Sloth. By resigning himself to his fate, to the initial calamity, Sinclair could have avoided this whole situation, which is something he's painfully aware of.

Impending Day Sinclair being fatal to Gloom is also a reflection of his regrets. If only he had listened to his doubts and worries in the moment, if only he had let his initial anxiety around Kromer lead him away from her, perhaps this all could have been avoided.

On the other hand, Wrath is ineffective against Impending Day Sinclair. After all, Wrath is what led him into this situation in the first place, but it's also what can get him out right now. By directing that Wrath against Kromer, by defying what she wants, he can delay her next inevitable calamity.

To properly summarize, since I really should summarize these posts more often, Impending Day represents Sinclair's role as a harbinger of the calamity Kromer would bring, and how his attempts at delaying his own prosthetic procedure led to him and his family becoming 'offerings' to her. It's a reflection of his guilt, of the role he believes he played in this tragedy.

So... yeah. Hope that was enjoyable to read, I don't know how long this post turned out to be and at this point I'm afraid to ask!

#ask #impending-day-sinclair #lu speaketh #limbus company #lcb analysis #sinclair #sinclair lcb #impending day sinclair #something something target audience

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