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dumbgoondog · 11 days ago

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Heian!Uraume X Reader

I’m not good with titles. Have some good heian!Uraume Face fuckin ya. There is some plot, reader is gender neutral/undisclosed. Uraume uses they/them here. NSFW MDNI +18 ya hear? Scram.

Summary —

After being captured you were going to become Ryomen Sukuna’s next meal, but his personal attendant had other plans for you. After months, you are ready to escape only stumble into something you weren’t expecting.

“My Lord Sukuna-sama,” Uraume’s hands folded together as they bowed eyes shut waiting for their lord’s answer. The lord in question, the massive monsterous man, Ryomen Sukuna. One of his eyes lazily rolls to look towards them, sharp and bored, he’s hungry waiting for a meal.

“What is it?” His voice gravels in his chest and filled them room even when not trying to speak loud. Uraume kept their head lowered, as they answered, “One of the sorcerers brought in, I wish to have them for myself.”

Sukuna sits up quickly a massive toothy grin pulling onto his face, “Uraume!” He barks and begins to laugh extending one of his four hands to smack their shoulder playfully, “finally found your appetite eh? Finally got through to you! Good! That’s it Uraume, go ahead, pick any you want and it’s yours. The whole thing. Go on, bwahahaha!”

Uraume’s smiles to themself, it’s small, and hidden but they dip a lower bow to Sukuna before turning away to go collect the gift. Sukuna’s laughter echoes as they walk away, they can almost hear him talking to the other servants probably startling them as usual. As they walked they didn’t pay enough mind to what he was saying to the others, a goal on their mind.

You on the other hand, sat bound up in ice, just your head above it. Some of your squad members had already succumb to the cold, the light leaving their eyes. The only reason you were alive was thanks to your cursed technique, temperature manipulation.

By touching something you could raise or lower the temperature of something by 10°F degrees. Including your own body, while the amount wasn’t much, you were clever and adept with it. By raising your body’s external temperature you’ve been slowly melting the ice and staving off the cold that threatened you.

The small building was full of ice, from that ice manipulator. A fabled being, not to well known about, Ryomen Sukuna’s personal attendant and chef. Some say he kidnapped them and forces them to work others say that’s his kid.

But speak of the devil and here they come, pulling back the pelts insulating the shack. Their eyes almost glow in the dark, that deep plum color would be so pretty if it were anyone else. You lock eyes, and for a moment you think they’re going to go for one of the others who are dead, but they move for you instead.

Panic sets in, being immobilized you couldn’t do much, was this really the end? They move forward and stop in front of you, that stoic and cold look on their face matching their technique, it was a cruel joke. “You,” they speak, voice a lot softer than you were imagining and lighter, “you’ll be spared on one condition. That is, you belong to me.”

…?

“Huh?” You breathe, incredulous. “Is the alternative death?”

“Yes.”

You stare, trying to not show any of your fright or anger, what the hell. Becoming their slave leaves the chance of escape… and spying. Swallowing and as flat as you can you answer, “fine then.”

That was 6 months ago. In those 6 months, you’ve been housed, clothed, fed, bathed, every need was met, Uraume took you in and began to teach you to cook as well. You even have seen Sukuna up close now, but you’ve yet to talk to him, however he does seem… amused by you in particular?

You’ve been planning the escape route and are pretty sure you’ve got it down now, all that’s left is to execute it! … there is one issue. Uraume has you glued to their hip. Constantly. The only private moments you’ve had is when you need to sleep, but that’s the shared servants room so you’re surrounded by people, and when you’re using the chamber pot. Not a single good window.

Tonight however, Sukuna had gone off to go hunting, and he usually takes Uraume, who takes you with. However this time, you seemed to have been left behind! You’ve finally gained enough trust!

Grabbing the secret emergency bag you begin to sneak, readying to leave. In the west wing of the shrine, there’s a room you never see being used, it’s basically empty of everything, and only has a single closet. It’s just an extra room, but it does have a screen that lead into the garden, where there are trees you can climb to scale the wall.

Swift meet carry you as quietly as possible as you hurry through the halls rounding to the door of the room. You reach out and start pulling it open but freeze once you spot them. There in the center, with a bed roll laid out, is Uraume.

That isn’t what startled you the most however. If they were sleeping you were confident enough that you could sneak past. No, what startles you is what Uraume is doing.

A small ice formation supports them as they are hunched over it, naked, hand reached down and stroking along their cock. They’re squeezing and milking out thick sticky ropes of pre that dangles in the bare illumination of the room. You watch them give long, firm strokes their hips giving small jerks each time they reach their tip.

“Ngh- haaahhh, just-just like that,” they hum, and you can see the hot breaths of air, the clouds fading away and you feel yourself give a small sharp intake. Which was loud enough that Uraume’s sensitive ears could hear, to your demise. In a blink, they’re in your face with ice capturing you and holding a sharpened ice blade to your throat.

Both of your eyes widen when you see each other and realization settles in. You’re pulled in to their room, the door sealing behind you with ice, and you’re thrown to the bamboo mats the ice cracking off of you. You scramble to flip around not sure if you’re about to be killed and need to fight-

Uraume has just a blanket loosely pulled around themself and look… embarrassed but there’s something else. You stare eyes betraying and slowly moving to look them over, or what you can see of them. Despite the deceptively thin looking frame they’re strong, like the dancers you’ve seen, they look slim but are so strong. Uraume, unlike many others, was also quite pale, with their stark white hair that only some sorcerers had but theirs seemed different. Then the tent being pitched it the blanket, that was far bigger than you thought it’d be.

Heat builds in your cheeks when you look back up and see the slight smug smile on their face, “ you’ve finally come to see me, or… am I misreading things?”

‘Finally’ come to see them? Were they… thinking of you?! Their feet are quiet moving to stand in front of you as you swallow looking up not sure what to do but gods they did look good. Uraume looks down calculating and stepping to the side offering a path to the door, “if you, do not wish to bed with me, please take your leave and we can pretend this never happened. Just forget of my feelings and of this.”

Your face burns more glancing between the door and them, you bite your lip and say fuck it to everything. You shift more to be on your knees facing them and they give a small smile. Uraume moves letting the blanket slip away from their body as they move to stand in front of you, their tip tapping against your lips, a string of gooey pre slick between your lips.

Tentatively you lick it from your lips almost expecting it to be cold or frosting but no, it was warm but lacked any flavor. A hand finds its way to resting on your head to guide and urge you to do more, take more. Pushing past your lips their smooth length glides along your tongue till it bumps the back of your throat making you gag a bit.

“Almost to the base, impressive,” Uraume praises but it feels like taunting more than anything. You’re about to move but they surprise you again, taking initiative Uraume starts pumping their cock into your mouth.

They’re holding your head still with one hand and the other has reached down to stroke themself halfway while the other half pushes in and out of your mouth. They pull out to make you kiss their tip before pushing back in with an excited little jerk of their hips, greedy for pleasure. With each kiss to their leaking cock you swallow the cream they were leaving in your mouth.

“Filthy, you’re just letting me use your mouth,” Uraume hisses, panting with each thrust. Your warm, wet mouth squeezing around their cock and watching you swallow while kissing their tip. A fire lit under their feet moving both hands to your head to fuck into your face, loving your look of surprise.

“You-you, look good sucking me off, with- mmmh- my juices all over your pretty lips, “ they praise their voice starting to shake much like their rhyth. You could tell they were getting close so you eagerly start squeezing and squishing your tongue against their cock milking every drop you can as they gasp before smirking and starting to fuck into you mouth harder not caring if they were hurting your throat, just lost in pleasure.

Tears pricked in your eyes as you grabbed their hips trying to urge them to slow but they barely relented watching you squirm. You hear their breathing hitch and their hips stutter more frequently in your grasp their cock twitching in your mouth. In a swift motion they pull out reaching down to jerk themself as ropes of hot sticky cum spurt onto your face and lips, dripping onto your chest and hands that move to catch what falls.

Uraume pants milking and squeezing, their balls tightening and pulsing, while their tip oozes strings of cum. You’re a mess, covered in thick ropes of cum, sweaty, face burning and the heat between your own legs very much there. Finally those beautiful plum eyes open to look to you, “get yourself cleaned, you were… wonderful. Good job.”

You get up readying to leave to wash off licking at some of the cum on your face when they call for you, “once finished, return here.”

You blink before nodding, “yes, Master Uraume-“

“Just, just Uraume is fine. When we’re alone together.”

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #uraume #uraume x reader #heian era #jujutsu kaisen #smut #x Reader #gn reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #heian au #heian sukuna #ryomen sukuna #heian uraume #nonbinary #non-binary Uraume

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octosan · 2 months ago

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I've been wanting to find a way to articulate more of my thoughts about what Veilguard ultimately did with Solas and why it feels like they did and did not take him out of character to me, because said thoughts are a mess.

And fair warning that this is going to be critical of Veilguard (and Inquisition a little bit) because essentially I feel like what they did is soft-retconned key parts of the narrative to make Solas both more sympathetic and less sympathetic in ways that are (imo) a disservice to the character.

Let me explain,

Part 0: This is the page I am on

First off let me open by saying that I always thought of Solas as someone who, in regards to his main plans, knew exactly what he was doing. I think it makes the most sense that someone who has been waging a war against vastly more powerful opponents for literal millennia be intelligent, decisive, manipulative, and unwilling to leave things to chance. I think it makes the most sense for such a person to rarely be wrong in evaluating and executing his intended plans, because against someone with literal godlike power being wrong would presumably mean being dead.

I also think it makes the most sense that such a person, who was continually given extremely difficult choices during his years of leadership, to have gained a level of ruthlessness that few other characters in the setting can claim. I think it makes sense that such a character could become horrendously bigoted, as well as jaded, by their own (again, millennia of) negative life experience. I think it makes sense for such a character to become proud to a fault, convinced that they are correct in what they do, even at times when they don't want to be.

At the same time, Solas is also portrayed as being highly principled. At least, I think that was Weekes' intention with the character. You can see at multiple points in Inquisition, through banter and approval, what things he feels the most strongly about and how he does not like to compromise on them. Protecting and nurturing free will, doing your duty to your people, and never doing harm (without a good cause rlly important clause there lmao) are common points suggested with him. Slavery in all its forms is a particularly sore point with him.

I've always thought that Solas' biggest flaws interacted with his guiding principles in interesting ways. That both combined to make him into an extremely dangerous, but understandable (if not sympathetic) antagonist.

I don't vibe with takes that all of Solas' principles are a smokescreen and he's just selfish or just nursing a bruised ego. Don't get me wrong, he says some thoughtlessly cruel things in Inquisition that I can see why the most critical fans feel the ways they do about him. But imo there's a lot of stuff he says and does that is narratively meaningless if caring about people (his people first and foremost, but other people as well) is not a core part of his character. For all his flaws, I personally never got the impression that this was the intention.

Though I also don't vibe with takes that Solas, in his goals and plans to achieve them, is objectively correct either. I think a lot of it comes down to what Solas' actual plan for the veil is and why he's tearing it down in the first place.

Part 1: Solas' Plan (and Lack Thereof)

Veilguard portrays (or at least casts judgement on) a version of Solas who is going at the Veil without much of an actual plan. He is demonstrated as having made a prison to keep the Evanuris from escaping when it comes down, yes, but that's clearly a side concern. He claims he will try to minimize the damage to Thedas, and this is explained to mean that he planned to have spirits intervene to protect people from demons, which is an extremely uncertain method of limiting casualties.

The game refuses to even address what he thinks is going to happen to the elves when the Veil comes down. To go by Epler's AMA response, he seems to just be blindly assuming that all elves will become immortal again when exposed to that much magic, and the game does not suggest one way or the other if that is actually true--the motive to give elves back their immortality is only even suggested in one missable sidequest cutscene.

It's very strange to me that now, with the story finished and the franchise never planning to come back to it, we still don't get an elaboration on what Solas planned. What he was expecting to happen. Unless I missed it, the only explanations we get of what will happen when the Veil comes down, and thus the only thing we can accept as being true, is that the world will be "flooded with demons" and the result of this will be that "thousands of people" will die, and ostensibly the elves will regain their immortality (and command of magic, but iirc even that isn't stated and is just an assumption.)

I absolutely did not think that was the entirety of Solas' plan to bring back the old world. You know why I didn't think that?

Because we heard Solas' original plans in Inquisition.

Low approval dialogue, if you argue with Solas that he should be helping the elves, has this gem of a line:

PC: The man who has lived half his life in the Fade has no ideas? Solas: Not unless we collapse the Veil and bring the Fade here so I can casually reshape reality, no.

At the time, this line is treated as sarcasm or an intentionally absurd suggestion he made because he's irritated with you. But in Trespasser, once you learn the truth about who he is, there is another line of dialogue that suggests that this was actually what Solas intended initially.

PC: What would have happened if Corypheus had died and you’d recovered the orb? Solas: I would have entered the Fade, using the mark you now bear. Then I would have torn down the Veil. As this world burned in the raw chaos, I would have restored the world of my time… the world of the elves.

Isn't this wild?

His plan was actually even worse than Veilguard suggested it to be. It's not that he's okay with some collateral damage to (somehow) restore the elves. He was okay with the entirety of Thedas as being collateral damage. To me it doesn't even sound like the demons themselves would have been the problem, moreso the primordial energy that would spill back in.

And we'll get into what else Trespasser suggested about his plan in Part 2 but the point is that the Veil coming down is portrayed as only being step 1, and step 2 is something that Solas has to guide himself. Even the ending of Veilguard suggests this a little bit? I don't know if intentionally, though. Solas, in the ending where you attack him, has a throwaway line about the "enchantments" needing a "delicate touch" as he goes to finish his ritual, which strikes me as an odd thing to say when the Veil was already falling down and that was the only part of his plan that the game dwelled on. It only makes sense in light of the Trespasser conversation, but I feel like the rest of the game ignores parts of the Trespasser conversation, so I don't know what to think.

Veilguard just isn't interested in exploring what this guidance on Solas' part looks like or what it would actually do to the world. It's content to be vague about it. I am not. I did not want it to stay vague at this last stage of the story.

What enchantments? What are the limits to this reality reshaping he mentioned in Inquisition? How did he intend to restore the Old World? How, specifically, did he think this would be helping the elves? Is there a way that the Veil can come down and not kill everyone in Thedas?

The intelligence of Solas' plan, and therefore his character, depends on the answers to these questions and I never got them! The game won't reward me for making assumptions on them either because the overriding narrative here is "the Veil can't come down, no matter what" so there's no reason to examine what he wants to do with it.

I also think it's weird that they changed it to a comparatively flimsier "thousands of people will die" anyway. I've seen multiple players point out that likely way more people died in the Double Blight that came from disrupting Solas' ritual than the amount of people the characters say would have died if we hadn't. Players who suggest that the resultant disruption to Thedas was so great and the Veil coming down so undersold as a threat that they actually blame Rook not helping Solas with his ritual in the beginning. Which is obviously not the narrative the devs wanted here. If they'd made it clear that Solas planned to destroy all/most of modern Thedas (even if reluctantly) then we wouldn't have this dissonance with players so much, I think.

But in regards to "getting him his goals", I think the intelligence of the plan also relies on figuring out what those goals even are. Veilguard was not terribly interested in those either.

Part 2: Solas' Motivations (and Lack Thereof)

Much like Veilguard evades telling the player what specifically Solas was planning to do with the Veil coming down, it also doesn't really touch on his motivations?

Harding suggests at the opening that he wants to bring back the old world because it is "beautiful". Solas himself claims he has to take down the Veil purely because it is "unnatural", a neutral fact that doesn't address anything, and because it is a "wound" on the world, a negative phrase which is nonetheless not defined. What does it mean that it's a wound? What is happening to Thedas because the Veil is in place? What are the ramifications of leaving it up? I saw little explanation of that in this game, despite previous entries leaving a lot of interesting details to draw on.

We know from the introduction that Solas bringing the Veil up made the elves mortal and destroyed their world, and one of the mural cutscenes suggests that taking it down might give elves their immortality back. So that's another one.

But his main motivation in Veilguard is presented to be simply the fact that Solas regrets having put it up in the first place. In the ending of the game, when he is trying to explain his reasons to (potentially) the literal love of his life who is begging him to stop what he's doing, the reason Solas gives is that if he doesn't take down the Veil then Mythal will have died for nothing. It's the Sunken Cost Fallacy. Yes, he also says that he will "destroy the world [Mythal] loved" but he doesn't elaborate on what this means, just like the "wound" comment, even when it would have been extremely relevant and helpful to his cause to lay his cards on the table here and be honest about what he wants if there is more to it.

So players who have never played prior games are forced to conclude that Solas has no good reason to take down the Veil.

Which might work well enough for Veilguard's narrative of Solas, but it certainly makes his "don't you think if I had another way I would have done it?" to Varric and his "I would treasure the chance to be proven wrong" to a friendly Inquisitor meaningless phrases in retrospect. I personally don't find it more compelling when a heretofore intelligent and principled character breaks their principles for no good reason. I prefer a principled antagonist who breaks their principles for an understandable reason, a reason that the protagonists will have to put in real work to challenge if their goal is to redeem said antagonist.

And I think prior to Veilguard, Solas' motivations were ones that were worth challenging.

Part 2A: Solas' People (and Lack Thereof)

For example, he wants to bring down the Veil to help spirits. There is dialogue between him and the Inquisitor early on that in the days of Elvhenan, spirits were everywhere in the waking world because the waking world was filled with magic. Cole in Trespasser can suggest this too, as a spirit Cole is ecstatic to realize that he "belongs" in the mortal world as much as he does the Fade once they learn that the two were once the same thing. There is an implication that spirits who wish to visit the mortal world become demons because they can't do so without possessing something (unless they are extremely powerful.) Similarly, in Inquisition many spirits were forcibly pulled into the mortal world and twisted into demons in places where the Veil was torn, because they couldn't handle the existential crisis that is a world without magic. The most spirits who show up in Thedas in this setting, do so in places where the Veil is thin, and the Veil is only ever thin in places of great suffering, meaning those spirits reflect that suffering themselves.

Not only does Veilguard never examine this concept as one of Solas' motivations, but they seem to have tried very hard to erase the validity of it from previous games. You would not know, playing Veilguard, that most spirits cannot enter the mortal world without a physical vessel, or that the Veil has been detrimental for spirits. Spirits are all over the Crossroads, and the implication is that they could always go there. You encounter plenty of them in Rivain, Nevarra, and Tevinter, and they are happy, healthy, free, uncontained to a vessel, and even largely capable of retaining their selves under pressure. This is entirely at odds with previous depictions of Thedas and its relationship with spirits. Yes, Nevarra and Rivain have more welcoming cultures and so it makes a little more sense (though not terribly so imo) for you to see more of them around and treated better, but it's not like anyone acknowledges this as outside the norm for the rest of Thedas. Inquisition in particular made a point about how much people hate and distrust them because they're such an unknown to mortals. In Tevinter, they are technically as much victims of magister slavery as elves, at least so Dorian and Solas' banter suggests.

Solas wanting to make the world better for spirits is a particularly important goal for him in retrospect because he was once a spirit, so it's a low blow to his character that it's never acknowledged in this game about stopping him.

But anyway, now we have the whole deal with the elves. This is where I see a lot of the discussion divide. I've seen people argue that Solas should have been allowed to enact his plan because it would end the very real oppression and cultural genocide that elves are facing, and I've seen people say that his plan would not have actually helped the elves at all and so it was a bad plan. I'm not sure how I feel about these takes.

Mostly because I personally did not think that Solas' plan, at least initially, was to end the oppression of elves. I think that if he'd been allowed to carry his plan out, the oppression of elves would end, but only because the entirety of Thedas' oppressive power structures would cease to exist along with its society. I did not think his true goal was to give modern elves their immortality back either, though I guess I can say I judged him wrong on that front in Veilguard. I thought, at best, that helping modern elves became a secondary goal for him later down the line, once he realized modern Thedosians are people--and for a low approval Solas may he rest in retconned peace it was a benefit to help him recruit. In The Dread Wolf Take You, for example, he does have a comment to Charter that the "elves that remain" like her might think his world is a better place when he's done. This could have been a lie to let her think better of his goal, or it could have been the truth and his intention was to somehow spare at least some of the elves what is coming.

The reason I believe that it is only secondary, however, is because Solas for most of Inquisition does not consider modern elves to be his people. He makes it clear he does not identify with the Dalish early on, but even when it comes to non-Dalish elves, which he ostensibly is, he has this line towards the Inquisitor after the Wicked Hearts quest:

PC: I hope Briala uses her position to help your people. Solas: How would helping Briala help… Oh, you mean elves! Solas: I’m sorry, I was confused. I do not consider myself to have much in common with the elves.

PC: Nor should you. You’re not defined by the shape of your ears. They’re not your people. Solas: No, they are not.

This whole exchange can be kind of dfgkdfkgksd ehhh but I think the salient point is that Solas does not identify with modern elves and slipped up when he made this clear.

And yet, he does have people, he isn't just a solitary misanthrope like he tries to shake that off with. He clearly does have people and moreover it is for them that he is doing what he's doing.

Trespasser has this line, for example:

PC: You’d murder countless people? Solas: Wouldn’t you, to save your own?

Consider also that there is an aspect to his motivations that he deliberately refused to tell the Inquisitor at the end of Trespasser.

PC: Why does this world have to die for the elves to return? Solas: A good question, but not one I will answer. Solas (high approval): You have always shown a thoughtfulness I respected. It would be too easy to tell you too much. Solas (low approval): You will survive this day, Inquisitor, and though I owed you an explanation, I will not give you tools to use against me.

I find this exchange so very interesting. There is a reason why the restoration of his world has to result in the end of ours, but he won't tell us because he believes it would give us the tools to stop him. Even on low approval he is comfortable with us knowing that he intends to destroy the world, but not the reason why he has to.

As far as I can tell Veilguard didn't do anything interesting with this. But originally I thought it had to do specifically with his people, the ancient immortal elves, and what he would do to get them back. To bring it back to a previous point, I did not think that it was just in giving the modern day elves their immortality back because I can't see how telling the Inquisitor this would give them the tools to use against him, especially if you yourself are an elf.

I know I saw some people speculate that Solas was trying to bring them back with time travel, as a reference to the Hushed Whispers quest, but even though I could see the Dragon Age devs doing that because the time travel stuff was silly in the first place and yet they decided it was a good plot point anyway I didn't think that was it either? It didn't feel thematically punchy enough.

And as a warning the next section will be getting into more speculative territory, but

Part 2B: The Ancient Elvhen (and Lack Thereof)

So, I don't think it's a huge secret that Inquisition presented the idea that the immortal elves of Arlathan never entirely went away.

We see this in the fact that there are immortal elves, obviously. Solas, Felassan, Abelas, and the rest of the sentinels at the Temple of Mythal are all elves who lived in the days of Arlathan, and yet are still alive thousands of years later, walking about in modern day Thedas. Furthermore, Solas in particular hints to Abelas that there are even more immortal elves than him. Consider the fact that if you're a Lavellan in the temple, Abelas distinctly denies that you number among his people, and in fact if I'm remembering rightly, calls you a shemlen regardless of your race.

And yet when speaking with Solas, he has this to say:

Solas: There are other places, friend. Other duties. Your people yet linger. Abelas: Elvhen such as you? Solas: Yes. Such as I.

Solas who is, of course, an immortal elf. It's even possible that he is one Abelas knows personally, given the importance Solas once had to Mythal. My Lavellan listening to that like wtf :(

Consider also the banter that Solas can have with Cole, if you romanced him and got to the breakup scene after this quest:

Cole: He hurts, an old pain from before, when everything sang the same. Cole: You're real, and it means everyone could be real. It changes everything, but it can't. Cole: They sleep, masked in a mirror, hiding, hurting, and to wake them... (Gasps.) Where did it go? Solas: I apologize, Cole. That is not a pain you can heal.

This banter is never examined in Veilguard! Who is hiding? Who is hurting? The fact that "waking" them is on the table suggests to me that it is sleeping elves, perhaps like the sentinels who only woke to defend Mythal's temple and slept the rest of the time. In the context of Cole trying to explain to Lavellan why Solas broke up with her (and more important, Solas wanting to make sure she does not know this information,) I thought this line referred specifically to Solas' true people, the reason he was doing all of this.

The idea that there are other ancient elves out there, sleeping somewhere, suffering for some reason, as they wait for the Dread Wolf to bring the Veil down and wake them. The "masked in a mirror" part felt especially interesting to me because there's a part in the Masked Empire novel where Briala and Felassan (among other people) come across a couple elves that were allegedly sleeping in Uthenara, in a location they were only able to get to by traveling the Crossroads, which are located through eluvians. In that scene, Felassan gets very upset to see that these particular elves have apparently been killed in their sleep.

It makes me wonder if this is why Solas had to hide this possibility from the Inquisitor at all costs, especially from a low-approval Inquisitor. His motivations for doing all of this are the countless elves, his version of elves, who are scattered all over and currently helpless as they sleep. I can't help but imagine that a particularly desperate modern Thedosian might consider if removing the Dread Wolf's reason to bring down the Veil might not be the only way of stopping him from doing it.

Veilguard doesn't follow up on any of these plot threads. In fact, someone who has never read the novel might even come away from the game with the impression that Solas and the Evanuris are the only immortal elves that survived to Modern Thedas, as even Felassan's role in The Masked Empire is obscured from the player.

It's a shame because if they'd kept this plot point relevant it would have been a major challenge to overcome in persuading Solas not to bring down the Veil. Presuming he is talking about the ancient elves, Cole's dialogue suggests to me that it is the process of waking them, or some element of it, which necessitates that Solas destroy the rest of Thedas.

This brings up an important question, potentially even a difficult choice. Which society do you think is worth saving? Would you be willing to let an entire people sleep and suffer for eternity just to preserve your way of life? Could you convince Solas to allow that? Solas, who sees Thedas as so corrupt and terrible to elves and spirits, who fought so hard to give his fellow elves a more ideal world which never came to fruition?

Also yes the sleeping and suffering to preserve your way of life thing IS ironic because that is exactly what he did to the titans but the game was so uninterested in exploring that too.

And like, to be clear, I never thought that Dragon Age would actually have the player make that kind of terrible choice. Even in Origins you were sometimes given the chance to take a third option that benefited everyone if you did a bit of digging. And both Inquisition and the opening of this game teased the idea of you convincing Solas there was another way. I guess what that third option actually looked like would have depended on more specifics. Mainly, why waking them requires that modern Thedas be destroyed.

Ehh I wonder if any of this was even on the table when Trespasser was written. Maybe I read it all wrong.

Edit: crying and screaming because I apparently DID NOT read it wrong and Veilguard did intentionally retcon that plot point.

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All in all, I personally did not really have a problem with what Solas was willing to do in this game. But when it came to the "why", I found myself really struggling with it after thinking about it for a while.

At the very least, I feel as though what I speculated above would have made Solas' motivations more understandable, even if, again, it did not ultimately make them sympathetic. Going just by what is shown in the game, Solas' actual motivations in Veilguard are not nearly as understandable to me, especially because not even a single elf or spirit is shown as wanting him to do it dfkgksdfk.

And clearly that is what they wanted for this narrative, but I can't believe it makes him more compelling as an antagonist in the franchise as a whole. I like him as a classic trolley problem dude.

Also he literally ignored Mythal when she told him not to do it in the regret mural and yet it's Mythal telling him he doesn't have to do it later that finally makes him stop? I guess Flemythal didn't realize the code word was "I release you from my service" or smth

Also,

Idk man. Thinking about it and I'm still so sad the ancient elves were a dropped plot point. I guess it's possible, with all the racism already shoved offscreen in this game, that onscreen racial tension between even these two different factions of elves was too tall an order.

#veilguard critical #inquisition critical #solas critical #(I mean I don't see it as solas critical but it is kind of)#this was supposed to be an Essay but it is a Rant #long post

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

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The ending was adorable 🥹 Everyone is going to ask for the proposal and the wedding and all that amazing stuff… but I really want to see the Disney trip and Wayne on Its a Small World 😂

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: The whole Munson clan embarks on their first trip to Disney World; as expected, it's filled with both magic and mayhem.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Also requested by @tvserie-s-world!

June 2002

The Munson chaos, as it turns out, is not limited to Hawkins. It tags along everywhere, including family vacations.

Especially family vacations.

“Babe, where’s the sunscreen?” “I wanna see Mickey!” “Ed, have you seen my hat?” “I’m hungry!”

Taking a deep breath, you toss Eddie the bottle of Coppertone, remind Harris that you actually had to get to the Magic Kingdom before seeing any of the characters, find Wayne’s ball cap in the bottom of his suitcase, and scrounge up a baggy of Cheerios for Hendrix.

“Okay, are we ready to go?”

Your question is met with an emphatic chorus of yeses as the five of you leave the hotel room and make a beeline for the shuttle bus.

Eddie tries to scoop Hendrix into his arms; try as he might, your two-year-old’s chubby legs just can’t carry him very far, very fast. He scrunches up his face and squirms out of Eddie’s grasp.

“Wan’ walk!” Hendrix pouts, lower lip jutting out in sheer defiance.

An exasperated sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “There’s gonna be a lot of walking later, buddy.” But he knows there’s no sense in arguing, and he settles for holding the boy’s hand. He’s heard tales of Disney meltdowns, but he was hoping to avoid one before the day even started.

The Florida heat is no joke. It envelops you like a casing, and you’re grateful for the air conditioned bus. Everyone sits down, Hendrix on your lap, and you lean in to discuss the day’s plans.

“So,” you begin, “I really want to get a picture of all of us in front of the castle. After that, we can split up. I know Harris wants to ride Space Mountain—”

“And Splash Mountain and Big Thunder,” he interjects, a seriousness in his eyes. As though you could have forgotten—all he’s talked about for weeks are those three rides.

You nod in acknowledgment. “One thing at a time.” The reminder is gentle, a nudge to keep him focused on a single goal so he didn’t overwhelm himself. Turning back to the group, you continue the rundown. “Wayne, you��re fine taking Hendrix on a few rides by yourself?”

The older man grins. “Can’t wait to have that damn doll song stuck in my head.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie raise his hand.

“Yes?”

“I’m actually gonna sit Space Mountain out,” he says, sheepishness seeping into his cheeks. “So I can go with Wayne and Hendrix, and then we can all meet up after.”

Harris looks at his father in bewilderment. “Dad, are you afraid?”

“N-No!” Eddie sputters, sighing when you shoot him a glare that tells him to be honest. “I mean, yeah, a little. But you and Mom should still go on it.”

“It’s just you and me, kiddo.” You smile at Harris and return to the task at hand. “And then we’ll all go on the Peter Pan ride together before we grab lunch.”

Everyone nods in agreement, though you know that actually executing the idea will be much more of a challenge. You take the win for now, climbing off of the bus with Hendrix in your arms with the rest of the family behind you.

A jovial melody surrounds you as you enter the Magic Kingdom, putting some extra pep in your step. You feel the excitement building; not just from the boys, but from the adults, too. Neither Eddie nor Wayne have been here before, and they’re just as eager to start the vacation.

Your breath hitches as you make your way down Main Street, U.S.A. and Cinderella Castle finally comes into view.

“I’ll be damned,” Wayne mutters under his breath, his voice breaking slightly. “Looks just like the movie.”

You reach out and take Eddie’s hand, squeezing it gently as the five of you take in the sight. Tears blur your vision, and you can only imagine that Eddie’s experiencing the same.

We did it. We’re at Disney World with our family.

You manage to stave off the tears long enough to ask a Cast Member to snap a photo with your disposable Kodak camera.

“Say cheese!” The woman chirps with a smile of her own, and you all comply–even Wayne.

As soon as the shutter clicks, the usual pandemonium resumes. Harris is tugging on your hand and dragging you towards Tomorrowland.

“Remember, Har,” you say, “we might have to wait in line for a while.” It’s a concept you thoroughly went over prior to the trip, but it never hurts to remind him.

Since you’d started out early, the queue isn’t terribly long; nothing that can’t be handled with a few rounds of I Spy. Before you know it, you’re boarding your tiny rocketship right behind Harris. The ten-year-old is practically bouncing out of his seat, and you’re more than grateful for the lap bar holding him in place.

Harris squeals with delight at each banked turn, even putting his hands in the air as he gets braver towards the end of the ride. Adrenaline buzzes through him when the ride comes to a stop, and he darts for the exit.

“Wait for me!” You call out, and he pauses until you get your very not ten-year-old body out of the cramped vehicle. It used to be a lot easier to stand up when you were his age, but you eventually catch up with Harris to head to Fantasyland.

What you find there is the last thing you would have imagined.

Eddie walks out of one of the myriad gift shops, with Hendrix in his arms and Wayne beside both of them. Your younger son has a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head, and one in his hands–for Harris, you assume–but what’s out of the ordinary is what the men are wearing.

“Oh…my…god!” You cackle, and Harris joins you when he sees his dad and grandpa wearing matching tall Goofy hats, the floppy ears swaying against their cheeks.

Eddie grins, doing a small spin that proves more difficult when carrying a two-year-old. “How do we look?” He asks.

Stifling further laughter, you shake your head. “Incredible.” When you reach him, you give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

“I think that says more about you than it does me, Sweetheart.”

Harris takes his souvenir from his little brother and slides the string under his chin. Both of them look absolutely precious, and you snap another picture before either can protest.

“Oh, one last thing.” Eddie reaches into a mouse-printed bag and pulls out a gold plastic tiara, covered in glitter with a photo of Belle in the center. He carefully places it atop your head and you secure it against your scalp. “There,” he murmurs, “pretty like a princess.”

A warmth settles into you that is unrelated to the humidity. You swear you could gaze into his eyes for an eternity, losing yourself in the hazel flecks that accentuated the chocolate irises—

“It’s Mickey!”

You follow where Hendrix is pointing; sure enough, the world’s most famous mouse was walking to a designated spot, flanked by an entourage of handlers. It’s the opposite direction of Peter Pan’s Flight, but you’re not about to compete with Mickey Mouse himself.

Hendrix’s jubilation wanes as he gets closer to the character, chubby fingers digging into Eddie’s biceps. When he reaches the front of the line, he begins outright wailing, face buried in his dad’s shirt.

Frowning, you try to peel him away. “Hendrix, it’s our turn!” You tell him, trying to rebuild the excitement with no success. “Don’t you wanna meet Mickey?”

“Too scary!” He sobs, his little body shaking with fear.

You look at your husband, pushing away the urge to freeze up and throw a tantrum of your own. “Okay, I’ll take Hendrix; you and Wayne stay with Har—”

But Harris is faster, nudging between you and Eddie to place a hand on his brother’s back. “Hen, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna be right there with you.” He glances at Mickey, then back at Hendrix. “I know he’s a lot bigger than on TV, but he’s not going to hurt you.”

The crying subsides, save for a few hiccups. Hendrix sloppily wipes at his damp cheeks and holds his arms out so Harris can take him. They walk hand-in-hand, the youngest Munson glued to his big brother’s side.

Harris waves at Mickey, imploring Hendrix to do the same. He obliges, albeit timidly, but there’s no mistaking the joyful giggle that escapes him when Mickey returns the gesture.

Eddie laces his fingers with yours, metal rings warm from the summer sun. “Can you get a picture of this?” You nod and reluctantly let go of him, forever capturing the moment with the click of a button.

The rest of the day is spent waiting in line, riding attractions with colorful scenery, scarfing down Mickey-shaped food items, and taking a much-needed midday nap at the hotel. The sleep recharges you enough to head back out to the park after dinner.

The sun begins to set, though the temperature barely drops a single degree. Your group finds a bench right outside Liberty Square. Wayne sits with Hendrix on his lap, Eddie next to him, and you take a seat at the end. Harris stays standing, leaning against the wooden back only to help him get his jumps out.

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” A cheerful disembodied voice comes over the park’s sound system. “Our fireworks presentation, Fantasy in the Sky, is about to begin. Thank you!”

You dig in your bag and pull out some wax earplugs for Harris. Hendrix extends his hand for his own pair, always wanting to be just like his big brother.

Fireworks light up the sky, bright pink and blue and green hues that leave wispy trails of smoke in their wake. Harris keeps his fingers pressed to his ears to block out any additional noise, but it doesn’t detract from the smile on his face.

Perhaps the only person more enamored with the show is Wayne. The lights illuminate his awe-struck face, mouth agape, as though he’s in disbelief of the magic surrounding him.

Eddie leans down to kiss your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Havin’ a good time, Sweetheart?” he mumbles against your skin.

You nod, looking up and pressing your lips to his cheek. “Are you?”

He takes in the sight of his sons and his uncle, together in a place he’s only ever dreamed of visiting. And he has you by his side; more than that, you are the reason he’s here at all.

“I’ve never been happier.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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polo-drone-069 · 9 days ago

Text

The holographic banners rippled and danced above the Galactic Gridiron, their vibrant colors reflecting off the polished metallic field. The roar of the hundred thousand strong crowd was a physical force, pressing down on the players below. Announcer Bot’s voice, usually a smooth baritone, was laced with an edge of barely contained excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to the Super Bowl! The pinnacle of the Galactic Gridiron! The energy here is off the charts! The Golden Knights and the Emerald Titans are locked in a battle for the ages! The score is tied 49 to 49! Just seconds remain! Who will claim the coveted Galactic Gridiron trophy?”

The camera swept across the field, showcasing the Emerald Titans. They stood as a unified force, their emerald and shadow uniforms gleaming under the stadium lights. Their faces, etched with grim determination, reflected the fire in their eyes.

“They haven’t forgotten our last encounter,” Announcer Bot growled, his voice echoing through the stadium. “They’ve trained, they’ve studied us, they want their revenge. They’re coming at us with everything they’ve got, ready to prove they belong on top.”

The camera then shifted to the Golden Knights’ sideline. The Knights, clad in their gleaming metallic gold and black armor, exuded an aura of confidence. They were ready.

“But this is our game,” Announcer Bot declared. “This is our house. This is our moment. The stakes have never been higher! This isn’t just another win. This is the Super Bowl! This is for the title! This is for supremacy! This is for GOLD!”

The crowd erupted, a deafening wave of sound washing over the field.

On the field, the Knights felt the energy surge through them.

Number 01 (@polo-drone-001), a compact dynamo of muscle and speed, his movements a blur of gold, bounced on the balls of his feet, his eyes burning with intensity. He remembered his earlier touchdowns. He’d sliced through the Titans’ defense like a laser beam, leaving them grasping at air. His chiseled jaw was set, determination etched in every line of his face. He glanced at the sidelines, seeing the intense focus of his teammates, the fire in their eyes mirroring his own.

Number 09(@goldenherc9), the quarterback, a mountain of a man with broad shoulders and a steely gaze, surveyed the field. Sweat glistened on his skin, highlighting the powerful muscles coiled beneath. He barked out the play call, his voice resonating with authority. The holographic display above him flickered, showing the complex ballet of movement he’d orchestrated. He knew the Titans were formidable, but he also knew his team was ready.

Number 68(@roman-golden-68), tall and lean with arms like steel cables, recalled his incredible catch. He’d leaped over two defenders, his body twisting in mid-air, snatching the ball from seemingly nowhere. His eyes, focused and intense, were locked on the quarterback. He felt the weight of expectation, the pressure to perform, but he also knew he could deliver.

With ten seconds on the clock, the score tied at 49-49, 09 took the snap. The crowd held its breath. He fired a quick pass to 68, who, as planned, drew the attention of two Titans. But instead of holding onto the ball, 68 executed a perfect lateral pass.

“It’s a lateral! A risky play! The Knights are gambling everything!”

The ball spiraled through the air, landing perfectly in the hands of Number 69. He was a relatively new player, smaller than the others, but with an almost uncanny ability to anticipate the flow of the game. He took off, his movements fluid and precise. He dodged a tackle, his body twisting and turning, his gold uniform flashing under the stadium lights. Another Titan lunged, but 69 sidestepped him with an almost balletic grace.

“69! He’s got the ball! He’s at the 20, the 10, the 5…he’s going…going…GONG!”

The buzzer blared just as 69 crossed the goal line. He collapsed to his knees, chest heaving, a triumphant roar escaping his lips.

“Touchdown! Touchdown Golden Knights! 69 with the game-winning score! The Knights are the Super Bowl Champions!”

The stadium erupted in a cacophony of cheers. Gold and black confetti rained down, covering the field in a shimmering blanket. The Knights mobbed 69, their faces alight with joy and relief. They had faced a tough opponent, pushed themselves to their limits, and emerged victorious. It was a game that would be talked about for generations, a testament to the skill, athleticism, and sheer determination of the players. They had fought for gold, and they had earned it.

Join the Golden Army and you will DOMINATE too. Message @brodygold@polo-drone-001@goldenherc9 now!

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hanakihan · 5 months ago

Text

oh my fucking god

my friend just texted me after finishing watching Monte Cristo adaptations and asked me why man went so hard on revenge shit because it’s not like his time in prison was that bad and he had treasure on him why not just move on or do it other way

head in hands

see that’s what I mean by adaptations missing the key point of his imprisonment time

without knowing what happened in château d’if, without understanding how much of his life was destroyed here along with his psyche and morals, without understanding that he was so destroyed that by the time he met abbe faria, even faria himself high key was regretting teaching/telling dantes who screwed him over because at this point he helped to finalize monster in dantes, because if faria didn’t tell him that, dantes would’ve never even decided to have revenge because he didn’t had need/target for it

i just keep noticing that people who watch adaptations without reading source material always get confused on ‘why’ of his revenge because the start and result don’t weight the same for them and such people more than right to ask the question what stopped him from starting new life with treasures faria left him

dantes with his wealth honestly could’ve simply hired assassins or mercenaries to kill people he deems responsible for his demise and call it a day. but no, he wastes even more of his years for a revenge and even went overboard with it because it’s extremely personal for him in his broken unhinged mind. his broken psyche concluded that death would be too easy for them, they need to go through equal amounts of hell he went through. because his revenge is more psychological torture focused than physical one, he is a broken man who doesn’t understand he overstepped boundaries of equal revenge and only snaps out of it when his plans backfire on people uninvolved.

his hyperfixation on such hard to execute and too complex revenge is pretty much what is keeping what remains of his broken mind and morals intact, since he in his head (as well as narrative) justifies his actions and goals based on what he went trough in prison. because if abbe faria didn’t unintentionally given him a goal, a target of revenge, even if he proceeded to escape and find a treasure, he simply would’ve started his life anew.

so yea adaptations missing on fatalism and mindfuckery of his time in château d’if is what ruins them all. book really gives you time to savor the shit he went through here, starting from time passage, changing of his cells and how ‘life’ around goes up to his mood and behavior changes through years, from hopeful hysterical boy to depressed apathetic half corpse who ironically considered his jailers as some sort of friends he can talk to even if they don’t talk back to him anymore

#count of monte cristo #le comte de monte cristo #edmond dantes #when people ask me what adaptation to check I just tell them to read the book #honestly story would’ve worked better as a series I think #more time/episodes to savor his time in prison tbh #like 3-4 episodes dedicated simply to years of his existence here #even if adaptations show time in prison everything is so romanticized it’s baffling #he was kept in one of the most guarded and hardcore prisons the fuck even #he shouldn’t sit and sigh melancholically dressed somewhat appropriate #he should be a mess of grit and dirt and overgrown hair and nails dressed in rugs and chains #and just behaving like half corpse with occasional mood swings

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elle-p · 3 months ago

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Persona 3 timeline before the events of the game.

The distant past

A star eater(later named Nyx) crashes into Earth. Her body becomes the moon and fragments of it fall as Plumes of Dusk. Her psyche gets sealed inside of rapidly evoving creatues, creating the Collective Unconciousness and putting a limit on their lifespans.

???

The leader of the Kirijo Group, Kouetsu Kirijo, finds a Plume of Dusk, sparking his interest in finding out about Shadows. He plans to use their power to create a time machine.

The Kirijo Groups excavates documents of the times in history the Fall almost happened.

1989-1990(1982?)

The Kirijo Group establishes Gekkoukan High School.

1991

5/8: Mitsuru Kirijo is born.

8/11: Shinjiro Aragaki is born.

9/22: Akihiko Sanada is born.

1992

10/19: Yukari Takeba is born.

12/23: Fuuka Yamagishi is born.

1993

1/16: Junpei Iori is born

3/5*: Hero is born

1991-1994

Akihiko Sanada's parents both die. He and his sister Miki are taken in to an orphanage.

Akihiko Sanada and Shinjiro Aragaki become good friends.

1992-1995(1 year after previous)

Both Akihiko Sanada and Miki are about to be adopted by a wealthy family.

The orphanage catches fire. Miki doesn't survive.

Akihiko Sanada gets adopted.

1995

The power supply in Iwatodai gets expanded.

The Kirijo Group establishes the Ergonomics research lab to study Shadows.

Eiichiro Takeba is appointed head researcher of the project.

The Maiyodo antiques shop owner joins the project, analysing the documents.

???

The Cathedral of Time is developed to dispose of uncontrollable Shadows.

Anti-Shadow weapons start development.

1997-1998

Kouetsu Kirijo's goal becomes to create Death to enact the Fall.

The antiques shop owner leaves the project.

1998

6/24: Ken Amada is born.

1999

4/20: 5th generation anti-Shadow weapon Labrys is first activated.

2000

2/?: Work is started on the 7th generation anti-Shadow weapon Aigis.

3/7: The Moonlight Bridge opening ceremony.

9/10: 7th generation anti-Shadow weapon Aigis is first activated.

12/11**: The project to create Death is interrupted by Eiichiro Takeba, splintering it into 13 pieces.

Tartarus and the Dark Hour are created.

Aigis and Death fight on the Moonlight Bridge, and Death is sealed inside of Hero.

???

Takeharu Kirijo becomes the head of the Kirijo Group.

Shuji Ikutsuki uses the chaos of the incident to rise up the ranks of the Kirijo Group.

Shuji Ikutsuki becomes the chairman of Gekkoukan.

2001-2002

Mitsuru Kirijo summons a Persona, becoming the first example of a human Persona user the Kirijo Group has.

???

Shuji Ikutsuki secretly conducts research on children(including Mitsuru) to try and get more Persona users. Some of the results of these experiments are the evoker, Persona surpressants, and Theurgy.

Three of the children manage to escape.

The experiments are deemed a failure, and the children that are still alive are sent to explore Tartarus.

???

Kurosawa attempts to investigate the incident, delving in too deep.

Kurosawa is assigned to Iwatodai, and investigates the orphanage fire.

???

A hotel is rennovated into a dorm for combating Shadows.

2007

4/?: Akihiko Sanada, Mitsuru Kirijo, and Shinjiro Aragaki enroll in Gekkoukan High School.

The Specialised Extracurricular Execution Squad is formed.

10/4: Shinjiro Aragaki's Persona kills Ken Amada's mother. It's covered up as a traffic accident.

Shinjiro Aragaki leaves SEES.

Sources:

Persona 3 Reload

Persona Club P3

Persona 3 FES Official Fanbook

Persona 3 Portable 100 Mysteries

* It can either be 10/5/92, 11/5/92, 12/5/91, 1/5/92, 2/5/93, or 3/5/93. The first 3 depend on the date of the accident.

** Assuming that it's a full moon, it can either be 9/14, 10/13, 11/12, or 12/11. The last 3 depend on the date of Hero's birthday.

#persona 3 #p3 #spoilers #i cant believe that we dont have an exact date for the incident 10 years avo #im going to have forgotton something super obvious arent i #i know i didnt include sho there are just no good places to put his info especially since there are no concrete dates attached #just assume hes included as part of ikutsukis experiments #since aigis the first mission takes place in may 1999 it cant be canon #the only thing i have as to when akihikos parents died is 'before he can remember' so #its probably on the later end since he remembers his time at the orphanage and he was only there for a year

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thesummerestsolstice · 9 months ago

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Faustian Bargain 👀

I don’t think I’ve seen many fics that fix things in a way that keeps both Gil Galad and Celebrimbor alive before and now I’m very curious.

Alright, this is a prompt from my Unwritten Fic ask game! If you'd like more details on this story, or any of the others there, my inbox is open. This also got pretty long, so I'll post this today and put up a part two for this ask in a couple days.

So the Faustian Bargain AU starts with slight canon divergence– Gil-Galad is in Eregion when it falls, and gets captured along with Celebrimbor. Elrond, who is in Lindon, is suddenly the de-facto High King of the Noldor, while dealing with the fact that two of the people he cares about most in the world are currently in Sauron's clutches.

(And Elrond grew up with Maedhros and the former thralls who followed him. He knows what Sauron is capable of.)

Now, Elrond knows it would be a fool's errand to try and rescue them. No one even knows where Sauron is keeping them. So, instead, he uses a captured orc general to send a message to Sauron. Elrond Peredhel wishes to make a deal.

The terms are simple: Sauron will let Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor free without further harm, and in return, Elrond will become his prisoner. Sauron is not allowed to torture Elrond. Any attempt to rescue Elrond or escape attempts will result in his execution– to prevent Elrond from backing down from his end of the deal. And– and this is the reason Sauron agrees to hand two high-ranking prisoners over for someone he can't even torture– Elrond will help Sauron with his real goal, breaking into the void to free Morgoth. Elrond, who's well acquainted with the scholarship of magic and (in this AU) has been to the void with Earendil before, is maybe the only person in Middle-Earth who can help Sauron do this. And Sauron is desperate enough to take that deal.

So, Elrond and Sauron forge their contract– it's not quite an oath, but an agreement between Maia is still very serious business– Gil and Brim are let go, and Elrond begins his stay as Sauron's prisoner/research partner. Gil-Galad and Celebrimbor, notably, are not told about the "no-torturing" clause of the deal. It is not a great time for them.

Sauron is delighted, but of course, Elrond has his own plans. He knows that Morgoth rising again will be the end of Middle-Earth, and he doesn't intend to let that happen.

#silmarillion #silm fic #silm au #elrond #elrond peredhel #eldritch peredhel #sauron #annatar #gil galad #celebrimbor #they're all having a terrible time (except Sauron)#Elrond as de-facto high king #remembering Maglor talking about how his biggest regret was leaving Maedhros on Thangorodrim #haven't decided if Maglor's around for this au but if he is he's absolutely horrified #so are Celebrimbor and Gil-Galad to be fair

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callmekenya · 6 months ago

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Pairing: Mal x m!Y/n

Warnings: None

_________________________________________

Partners in Crime - Y/n and Mal are known as the power couple on the Isle, causing trouble wherever they go. Whether it’s pulling off heists, pranks, or challenging authority figures, they’re always in sync, plotting and executing their schemes together.

Fierce Loyalty - Mal is fiercely protective of Y/n, and anyone who crosses him will face her wrath. The same goes for Y/n; he’s always ready to stand up for Mal, even against the likes of Uma or other Isle rivals.

Secret Soft Moments - Despite their tough exteriors, Y/n and Mal share soft, vulnerable moments when they’re alone. Whether it’s holding hands while overlooking the Isle or whispering sweet nothings to each other after a long day, these moments are their safe haven.

Arguing with Passion - Both Y/n and Mal have strong personalities, which means their arguments can be intense. However, they always find a way to make up quickly, often through a sarcastic comment or a challenging dare that leads to a new adventure.

Shared Dream of Freedom - Both of them dream of leaving the Isle someday, but they know they can’t do it alone. Their shared goal of escaping and finding a better life strengthens their bond, with each of them promising to protect the other no matter what.

Teasing and Banter - Their relationship is filled with playful teasing and banter. Y/n loves to poke fun at Mal’s attempts to be the “baddest” on the Isle, while Mal teases Y/n about his hidden talents or moments of unexpected kindness.

Strategizing Together - Y/n and Mal are always scheming together, whether it’s to take over a rival gang’s territory or pull off a major heist. Their plans are a perfect blend of Y/n’s creativity and Mal’s cunning, making them unstoppable.

Hidden Affection - On the Isle, showing too much affection can be seen as a weakness. However, Y/n and Mal find subtle ways to express their feelings, like a quick brush of hands, a lingering glance, or a whispered “I’ve got your back.”

Dealing with Jealousy - Both Y/n and Mal can get jealous when others try to flirt or get too close to one of them. While they trust each other completely, they have no problem showing the world that their relationship is not to be messed with.

Bonding Over Past Pain - They both have had difficult upbringings on the Isle, and this shared experience brings them closer. They often talk about their pasts, finding solace in each other’s understanding, and making a silent pact to protect one another from future pain.

Facing Down Enemies Together - Whether it’s a confrontation with Uma, a run-in with guards, or a showdown with another gang, Y/n and Mal face their enemies together, back-to-back. They trust each other completely in battle, knowing that together, they’re unbeatable.

Stealing Moments of Joy - Life on the Isle is tough, but Y/n and Mal find ways to enjoy the little things. Whether it’s sneaking off to the beach for some quiet time, sharing stolen food, or dancing to the faint music from a nearby party, they know how to make each other smile.

Planning a Future - Despite the chaos of the Isle, Y/n and Mal often talk about what they’d do if they ever escaped. They dream of a life where they can be together without fear, where they can build something more than just a legacy of mischief and chaos.

Understanding Each Other’s Darkness - Both Y/n and Mal have a dark side, and they understand each other’s struggles with it. They don’t judge or try to change one another; instead, they accept and support each other, knowing that their darkness is part of what makes them strong.

Leaving Their Mark - As a couple, Y/n and Mal are determined to leave their mark on the Isle. Whether it’s through their schemes, their influence, or just the fear they instill in others, they’re known as a force to be reckoned with, and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Crafting Their Own World - Y/n and Mal create a world of their own within the chaos of the Isle. They find abandoned spots to retreat to, decorating them with stolen items or graffiti, turning these places into secret sanctuaries where they can escape the harsh reality of their environment.

Rivalry with the Gang - Y/n often gets caught in the rivalry between Mal’s gang and Uma’s crew. While Mal initially tries to keep him out of it, Y/n insists on being involved, leading to tense standoffs and daring missions that test their relationship but ultimately bring them closer.

Dangerous Adventures - The couple thrives on the thrill of danger, often embarking on risky adventures that other Isle kids wouldn’t dare to try. Whether it’s sneaking into forbidden zones or challenging authority, they share a mutual love for the adrenaline rush that comes with living on the edge.

Learning from Each Other - Mal teaches Y/n how to be more ruthless and cunning, while Y/n shows Mal the value of subtlety and creativity in their schemes. They’re constantly learning and adapting from each other’s strengths, making them a formidable team both in and out of conflict.

A Shared Sense of Humor - Amid the darkness of the Isle, Y/n and Mal find solace in their shared sense of humor. They often joke about their enemies, make light of their dire situations, and playfully mock each other, finding laughter to be their best weapon against the Isle's harshness.

#male reader #x y/n #y/n #masterlist #descendants masterlist #mal x y/n #queen mal #mal x reader #headcanons #headcanon #datingmalwouldinclude

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nethhiri · 11 months ago

Text

Marooned: Chapter 20

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Violence, murder

Fire-Roasted Revenge

You spent the next several days staking out the base, making a note of where and when guards were posted. You had a plan. The base was bigger than you anticipated. It would have been better to wait until Giemsa left on a ship. Though, you had never been patient and you had waited long enough for this moment. You waited until dark to execute your plan, and hopefully Giemsa.

You had picked off a few guards ands stolen the uniform of one of them, putting it on over your clothes, though keeping your coat on, of course. You put a torch in Mini's mouth and had her light up the perimeter, effectively trapping anyone inside, including yourself, but you would figure that out later. Then, you busted through the doors on boarback, whoever you didn't snipe in front of you was trampled by hooves. You were on a beeline to the captain's office, which was unfortunately in the center of the facility. As you went further, the marines started clearing out, either helping put out the fire or running from it. In the chaos, you were mostly ignored unless you were right in front of someone.

You dismounted as you got close to your destination, changing strategy to be a little more inconspicuous. You had Mini wait down a hallway next to a window. It was your escape plan. It wasn't the smartest idea or the best one, but it would do. Before you left her, you thought for a second, grabbing a sword you had picked up and putting the handle in her mouth. Her tusks were sharp and dangerous on their own, but a sword probably wouldn't hurt. Plus, the pig seemed pleased to be wielding it. "Wait here. If I'm not back in 15 minutes, leave without me and meet me on the docks. And if I'm not there... it's been a pleasure working with you, Lieutenant." You pressed a kiss to her forehead and took off running.

Your path was blocked by a few straggling marines, obviously scared out of their minds, but trying to carry out their duty until the end. Light smoke started to fill the hall. You could hear cries and screaming in the background, nearly drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears. You forgot how good the feeling of adrenaline was, and how good it would feel to be one step closer to your goal. "You can run and have a slow death or I can show you mercy. Choose." You leveled your gunblade at them. They fled. So much for duty. Melting wasn't a very pleasant feeling, you would know.

The double doors in front of you were locked, not an obstacle for your devil fruit. You pushed them open and saw a man sitting behind a desk. "Giemsa," you said in a phony greeting. You see confusion on his face until you threw your uniform hat to the side. Then the man looked like he wanted to evaporate into thin air. The blood drained from his face. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." You laughed. "Maybe I am a ghost." You shot at him.

He had just enough sense left in his head to dodge. There was a metallic clang as his sword was blocked with your blade. He was faster now than he was then. You managed to back him up with your blade work, pulling the trigger only for him to roll away, leaving a bullet hole in the wall. The man coughed as darker, thicker smoke filled the room. You didn't even feel the stinging in your eye as you cornered him.

"H-how are you alive?"

"I told you. I'm a ghost." You brought your blade down hard, hands shaking as you grunted against the force of his own blade blocking you. Again, you heard screaming. This time you really heard it, though. The voices stirred something in you. In your brief distraction, Giemsa pushed you back, unbalancing you. Your mind was racing. Why did that get my attention? A bad feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. You gritted your teeth and kicked him away from you, landing a shot as you did so. He fell to a knee with his side gushing blood.

The room started getting hotter and the screaming got louder. The smoke was starting to interfere with your vision. It hit you like a sea train. The screaming sounded eerily similar to... No. You looked from the direction of the screams to Giemsa on the floor. This was your chance to end him. "Fuck! Tell all your bastard friends that I'm coming for them." You ran in the direction of the screaming, dodging pieces of the ceiling that started to fall. You would be a hypocrite if you let something bad happen to your crewmates when the entire nidus for this revenge was because your former crew let something bad happen to you.

There wasn't a lot of time left. If you got out of this, you would have a massive target on your back now that they knew you were alive. Best case scenario is Giemsa burns alive here. There wasn't time to worry about that now. You were getting closer. These looked like interrogation rooms. You kicked the door down. Without wasting time you were removing shackles from wrists and ankles. "What the fuck are you doing here?! Who else is here?!" You had worry in your eyes as you looked into Quincy's.

"Em-Emma and Dive."

You grabbed her arm and hauled her over to the other doors. "Start checking all of them." You didn't want it to be true, that the screaming you heard was Quincy's. You could hear her voice crack screaming for her captain, but you still didn't want to believe. The amount of guilt you would have on your head if any of them died because of you... You kicked down doors until you came across Dive, releasing her in the same fashion as Quincy. You grabbed her and looked around to see Quincy pulling Emma out of a room, but she looked awfully limp. You ran to her and held Emma up from the side opposite Quincy. You pointed in the direction Mini was in. You hoped that boar still had a stubborn streak.

"You goddamn pig! I told you to get lost!" You slapped her on the back as the four of you made it to the window. "But I'm glad to see you," you said, already helping Quincy and Dive onto her back so they could pull Emma up. "When you get out, you have to get as much fresh air into her as possible. Do you understand?" They both nodded.

"You're saying that like-"

"There's not enough room. I'll be fine." You really hated lying to your friends. You shot out the window and knocked the sharp edges from the frame. "GO!" You shoved Minerva towards the opening.

You turned around to see fire blocking your path in every direction. The oxygen pouring in from the broken window fueled it to burn faster, hotter. Window it is. You climbed out the window, straddling the edge to see a clear exit path. There was another window that didn't have the orange glow of flames on the inside. Using your devil fruit, you made handholds in the brick of the outer wall. You looked down to see a brownish-red blob darting around the courtyard and breaking through a wall to get out. And they say I'm hard-headed. You climbed down towards the other window, but the brick under your hands was hot. Almost there. The skin on your hands started to burn as you swung yourself into the glass, landing in the broken shards. You got up, ignoring the pieces that were embedded in your flesh.

Stumbling into the next hall, you were able to see through the smoke to a stairwell. Seeing that as your best route, you dropped to avoid the smoke that was building up, doing an army-crawl until you got to the stairs. The smoke was still thick, however crawling was not an option. Taking in a deep breath, you got up and ran down the stairs as fast as you could. Nearing the exit, you had to take in a breath. The heat and fumes scalded your throat. At this point you didn't feel very much. You knew you could heal it later. You had to get somewhere safe first. There was a great rumbling somewhere behind you. The ground started to shake harder as the rumbling got close. The building was coming down. You couldn't see well anymore. You ran in the direction of the exit, stumbling a few times as the smoke started to overtake you. At some point you looked down and you were on grass. You turned behind you to see a billowing cloud of rubble and flame. The second you found somewhere slightly hidden, you allowed your body to give out. Thank god. That would have been the lamest death ever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kid's head looked like it was about to explode when Pomp and Reck had told him earlier that day that some of the girls had gotten captured by marines. They hadn't even seen it happen. They only overheard some marines talking about it. Killer, Heat, Wire, and a few others were quick to volunteer to aid in Kid's cause to "kill all those marine bastards".

"Looks like someone got here first." Killer observed. Smoke and flame licked at the sky through broken windows.

A few marines were scattering like ants from the inferno. Kid dragged one over clutched in his metal grasp. "WHAT'S GOIN ON? WHERE ARE PRISONERS KEPT?"

The marine was too scared to form a coherent sentence.

"USELESS!" There was a squelching crunch before Kid tossed him to the ground. The flames were reflected in his eyes. "LET ME FIND OUT THAT BITCH SET THIS FIRE. IF A SINGLE HAIR IS BURNT ON ANY OF MY CREWS' HEADS I WILL RIP HER LIMB FROM LIMB!" Kid was about to barge into the burning mess when Killer held him back.

"I don't think that's wise, Captain."

"SO YER FINE WITH THEM BURNING ALIVE?" Kid looked like he wanted to deck Killer.

"It's too dangerous! You know that!" The first mate was torn. Of course he loved his crew, but Kid was his best friend, the man who was going to be King of the Pirates.

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN! WHAT KIND OF CAPTAIN WOULD I BE IF I DIDN'T TRY?"

Killer released him. He understood. He didn't like it, but he understood. "Okay. I'm right behind ya then." No way would he let his captain go alone. Killer saw something in the distance and grabbed Kid again. "Wait! Look!"

Kid looked in the direction Killer indicated. He saw the rotund shape of a boar. "I KNEW IT! WHEN I GET MY HANDS-"

"No! On top!" Killer gently smacked Kid on the head.

The closer Mini got, they could make out their missing crewmates. Emma was conscious now, but drowsy. They were all covered in soot, had some minor scrapes, but there were no singed hairs on any of their heads.

Killer helped them get down. He couldn't help but notice the obvious absence of the person he expected to see. "What happened?" He looked them over for any major injuries. Turning to the other pirates, he ordered them to take them all back to the ship and do their best first aid until he got back.

Quincy was on the verge of tears, "It was Y/N. She saved us but...b-but..."

Dive finished for her, "But she's still in..." Her voice faded off as the building in front of them started to collapse. From one end to the other, it folded in on itself, spewing hot ash and smoke in all directions.

They stared in silence. The only sound being the crackling of fire and the settling of twisted metal and crumbled stone.

"Well," Kid started. "That's that then. Rest in pieces, Sea Snake." He turned in the direction of the Victoria Punk, but stopped. He could feel the eyes of Quincy, Emma, and Dive burning into his skull. "WHAT?! I'm only kidding."

Even Killer gave him a disparaging look.

Kid threw his hands up. "FUCK OFF, ALL OF YA! I can tell her stupid fucking gun's somewhere over yonder. Relax!" He flung his hand in the direction of the forested area next to the pile of rubble. Growling and muttering to himself, he grabbed Minerva by the tusk and tugged her in that direction. "Help me find her, pig!" As much as he didn't want to, he owed you. You had saved four of his crew now. Granted, the fire was your fault to begin with, and he wouldn't let you forget it either.

The redhead thrashed through the forest, with Killer behind him, yelling about how stupid your gun looked and that you were lucky you didn't have a real weapon, since that would be indistinguishable from anyone else's. Kid stopped at the place he felt the presence of your gun and looked around. "I don't see anything. Time to go. We tried."

Minerva snorted, nudging at what Kid thought was a soot-covered log. A log that coughed. Kid threw his head back and groaned. "Damn it all to hell. Fucking found her." Killer made a displeased sound. "I mean, phew. Good thing we found the twat," Kid amended. He knelt down and brushed some soot off your face just to make sure.

You were too exhausted to move. You felt someone jostling you a little, no, carrying you, and groaned. Peeling an eye open, you saw a very blurry image of mostly red. Your voice was raspy and grating, yet still carried a tone of disappointment, "Ugh. You."

Kid hushed you, putting his hand over your mouth. "I'm not happy either but my girls would be very upset if I left ya." Kid yanked his hand back quickly and about dropped you right there. "DON'T FUCKEN BITE ME! Ya shouldn't be talkin!"

The great Captain Kid cares about your health? What next? Pigs flying? You frowned and tried to point. "Want Killer," it really did hurt to talk, you were realizing.

"TOO DAMN BAD! YA GOT ME!" Kid grit his teeth.

You could hear Killer laugh at Kid's discomfort. Have you ever heard him laugh out loud before? No. He only looked like he was laughing, never made a sound. You hummed, amused. "Your laugh," Killer tensed at your words. "It's nice."

Kid and Killer shared a glance. Unbeknownst to you, Killer was entirely pink under his mask.

You let your eye close and decided to save your voice, no energy left to wonder if you were safe with them or not. You thought so, though. The soft, rhythmic tamping of Mini's hooves against the dirt and grass lulled you to sleep.

#eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #one piece #kid x reader x killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader #marooned #I just love the ending to this chapter so much #🥰 blushing and kicking my feet #I hope you guys love it as much as I do

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tinietaehyun · 11 months ago

Text

Forsaken [XIV]

[Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader]

[Series] [Chapter Fourteen]

Pairing: Sorcerer!Taehyun x Royal!Reader [Ft. Sorcerer!Yeonjun]

Genres: royal!au, fantasy, romance, enemies to lovers, supernatural, action, fluff, angst.

Contains: Profanity, mentions of injury and death, implications of mature/suggestive themes, arson. Actions demonstrated by character are not by any means reflective of the idol in real life.

Links: Forsaken Masterlist || Masterlist

Summary: With the two of you nestled in, wrapped in each other’s arms contently, you both begin to make plans for the next steps. You were back in Fortuna but needed to focus on your main goal. Getting your throne back.

As Taehyun and your feelings reach their brim, alongside hope mounting, it was only a matter of time before the universe had enough and rips away your moment of happiness.

“There’s no way to just charge into the palace and confront Sehun,” Taehyun murmurs deep in thought. Your brows furrow, “But you said we directly need to confront him?”

“Yes, but I highly doubt asking to meet the prince is going to work for you. I’m going to get imprisoned for treason and most likely be executed after you. You’ll go straight to him get ruthlessly insulted, he’ll toy with you and off you go to your demise,” he drawls out outstretching his legs on the decrepit sofa.

An appalled expression crosses your face as he snorts, “It’s a realistic outcome, no?” Glaring, you reply, “Well, yes. I was hoping to hear an alternative. A better one.”

A smirk laces his lips making you roll your eyes, “Take this seriously, come on, how long are we going to lounge around here in your cabin?”

He pouts, “Come now, lounge around?” His eyes sparkle mischievously as a sly smile appears, “Is that all we’ve been doing these last two-three days?” Taehyun’s gaze drops to your neck and you huff as your fingers instinctively go to brush over the large bruised mark. “I told you not to bite so hard,” you huff.

“You weren’t complaining when I did, rather I heard you make a quite different soun-“ He retorts before you interrupt him abruptly.

“Stop speaking immediately,” you glare, eyes burning into his as embarrassment floods your features. He was right, but that was beside the point!

A low chuckle escapes his lips as he runs his fingers through his soft blonde locks, “Just a bit of kissing here and there, lips and neck, had you so riled up, princess? It even surprised me.”

You glare in deathly silence with folded arms. He raises his hands in surrender, “Goodness, with that glare you could take down a dragon.”

A scoff leaves your lips at his sarcastic remark. Taehyun sighs laughing at your exasperation, “Okay, okay. Back to the topic at hand, what I was thinking is, we get intentionally caught.”

You deadpan, “You are joking.” “I am very much not, sweetheart,” he muses. What was he thinking? Doesn’t it lead to the same outcome as just charging in?

“Hear me out, we both enter Fortuna, cloaked, hidden as if we’re trying to buy, I don’t know, food or goods something along those lines, then by oh so pure chance, one of the guards on their patrol spots a glimpse of you. A chase ensues, we intentionally get caught. And then, we’re presented as prisoners of treason and you, a wanted bounty in front of Prince Sehun,” Taehyun explains.

You process his words, your brain churning and whirring its gears. Indeed large scale crimes were personally handled by the royal court in front of the monarch. You both had committed what he saw as treason and well, you were a wanted bounty. You’d both be presented to Sehun in the throne room as you had seen with other criminals whilst growing up.

Knowing your pitiful excuse of a brother, he’d miss absolutely no chance of rubbing his victory in your face.

“Mm…indeed, you are correct. We would be presented in front of Sehun. He’s an absolute imbecile, so he no doubt would gloat like a buffoon in front of us,” you murmur. Taehyun smirks, “So? Giving me time to work my skills, no?” You raise a brow, “Such as?”

“We are going to be bound by chains. Those I can whisk off easy with a little enchantment. Next I need to scatter the surrounding guards and leave Sehun alone. Easy pickings after that. Can he fight?” Taehyun questions.

“Remarkably well, he’s a great swordsman. He spent most of his time training after all,” you utter sighing. Taehyun hums unfazed, “No weapon has anything on sorcery. Even if he is the most skilled swordsman to ever exist.”

Biting your lip, you run back through the haphazard plan. Having the both of you caught so suddenly, would definitely lower Sehun’s guard, knowing how arrogant he is. This roughly put together plan may just work.

“Once he’s cornered. You can talk to him. Expose his crimes to the court, no?” Taehyun hums. “The court supports him,” you huff.

“Of course they do, fucking idiots,” Taehyun groans. You snicker at his frustration. It was natural he felt that way, he had a bad experience with them after all.

“Noble pieces of fucking shit; nothing in their skulls just money in their pockets,” he mutters irritated. “Can’t you bribe them or something?” He mutters. You nod slowly, “I suppose I could do that. I doubt they’d want to go against me when their present figurehead is cornered.”

“You could always have me threaten them, I could turn them into stone, into toads, into whatever you or I please, teach them a real nice lesson,” Taehyun muses bitterly.

“That’s…certainly an idea. I suppose we’ll handle that obstacle when we get to it,” you smile, “At the end of the day, they’re all spineless cowards who are unloyal. I’ll be firing numerous of them. Furthermore, I’m sure a little wave of your wand will have them quivering.”

He chuckles, “Oh I do look forward to a sight such as that. Those bastards have what’s coming to them for what they did to me and my father. Exiling the both of us.”

His harsh gaze softens as he peers at you, “You…you do permit me to have a little fun with them don’t you?” You smirk, “I suppose a little lesson is in order. Just don’t…do anything violent.” Taehyun sighs, “How unfortunate but I suppose I can do that for you.”

You both remain in a comfortable silence as Taehyun suddenly puts his arms around you from behind and leans his chin on your shoulder. “What are you thinking about? Haven't I told you numerous times not to worry. You’ve got me. We’ve got each other. We can do this.”

Placing your hands atop his, you murmur, “Yeonjun is there. You’ll have to see him. He’s in a powerful position too; royal sorcerer and Sehun’s advisor, what are you going to do if he tries to stop us?”

A moment of silence passes. The mere mention of Yeonjun makes him stiffen. The air around the both of you becomes gloomy. “I’m sorry I-“ you begin.

He releases a breathy laugh, “No, no. You’re right, sweetheart. If we are destined to cross paths again…well, then I do not plan to back down so easily.” Taehyun clears his throat, “If we must fight whether that be verbally, physically or through our sorcery, so be it. He means nothing to me anymore.”

“He does, you’re lying,” you frown, twisting yourself to face him and notice his dull expression. “It will hurt to see him, won’t it? After all these years,” you frown.

He becomes quiet for a second before answering, “I suppose you can see through me, hm? It just…reminds me of that painful time. The feelings I felt when I saw my father getting dragged away. The…condescending smile he gave me when I called to him for help - like, like he enjoyed it. Twisted bastard.”

You cup his cheek, thumb caressing it lightly. His gaze meets yours. The mention of Yeonjun left a bitter taste in his mouth. You lean forward, “If he sets foot in front of you, show him. Show him who deserves to be the true Royal Sorcerer. Him or you?”

A bitter laugh escapes his lips. “Show him, despite your exile, you’ve only continued to improve. That you’ll always surpass him in every way possible. Not just sorcery. You are a better person. You know why?”

Curiosity gleams in his dull eyes as he watches you speak so determinedly. “Because, unlike him who’s hurt you, your father, to get where he is today. Through betrayal. You still surpass him. You have your father’s ability and affinity for magic. To manipulate mana with ease.”

You shakily breathe, “You could have rampaged, exacted vengeance, lunged at Yeonjun back then. All these years in the Woods of Mors, you could have meticulously planned revenge, yet you didn’t. You held yourself back. You’re more mature, you know your boundaries. You are wise, Taehyun. You are merciful.”

His voice cracks momentarily, “No, I was…I was a coward. I knew it would land me in more trouble.”

“You knew it would land your father in more trouble, possibly even execution,” you firmly state. “…yes. I-“ he murmurs lowly, “Yes, exactly. My father said not to. Even after he’d passed away, that I should never risk myself by going after the foolish notion of revenge, that we- we were better than that.”

A small smile forms on your lips. You notice his eyes glazing over. “Your father was a good man, you, you are a good man.”

“I’m not half the man he was, but thanks, sweetheart,” he solemnly smiles. Shaking your head, you grip his chin tilting it down to make him meet your gaze, “Where’s that arrogance and self-confidence I’m so used to, sorcerer?”

He remains quiet merely peering into your gorgeous eyes. You had a heart of gold; something he didn’t find himself deserving of. Why did you have to settle for less? When you could have any noble man you wanted? Yet you treated him so fondly. With such care, like a lover. You loved him right? Then why did he feel so terrified of reciprocating?

Was he afraid that as soon as you gain your throne back, that you’d toss him aside? Was he afraid that you, too, would betray him in the future? To place his cracked and beaten heart into your soft and sweet palms.

“Taehyun?” You call out; a flash of worry on your features. He gives you a subtle smile, “Sweetheart?”

“If you meet him, I want you to show him who you are. You’ve not once taken the step toward revenge. Well? If revenge presents itself to you, why not take the opportunity that the universe above has presented you with? If revenge walks to you with his wand pointed at you and an arrogant smile, will you let this opportunity slide too?” You ask with a stern expression.

“Being the better person. Yes, as good as it may be. Some people are not deserving of our kindness, of our mercy. That goes for Sehun. That also goes for Yeonjun.” You speak with a melancholy tone. Your gaze hardens, “So…”

Taking his hands and intertwining your fingers with yours, you squeeze them reassuringly, “So, let’s close all our unresolved regrets and close that chapter on our lives and move forward towards a future where no one can bring us down and we only experience prosperity and happiness.”

You hold yourself back from speaking further as you notice him staring at you wordlessly. Did you cross the line? Goodness, you must have talked his ears off. The last thing he probably wanted was an entire speech. Though you couldn’t help it, you despised seeing him hurt, so down.

“Sorry, I-“ you start before your eyes widen, feeling his arms suddenly wrap around you tightly; his head laying on your chest. Your heart palpitates rapidly. Your fingers run through his hair, caressing it tenderly. Taehyun parts from you, his gaze intense, almost restrained in a manner.

“Everytime, every fucking time,” he breathlessly laughs. Confusion appears on your face, how adorable he thinks.

“You continue to do it again and again, no matter how anxious I feel, how dreadful this feeling makes me feel. To think I shouldn’t, that I can’t get too attached, to not raise my hopes, to not think of a future together. To not kiss you again, not to lead you on, to not lead myself on, I can’t help it. I just can’t fucking help how I feel, you continue to make me feel worse,” he utters almost frustrated.

With an uneasy expression you murmur, “T-Taehyun?”

“You make me go insane, in the most addicting and best way possible. Whenever I have the slightest doubt you pull me right back in,” he laughs strained.

His gaze meets yours taking your hand and placing it on his chest; you feel his heart pounding like his life depended on it. Your eyes widen in surprise, realising your heart was doing the same.

“Do you feel it? Do you feel what you do to me? I hear yours too. I see the way you look at me. Do you see the way I look at you, sweetheart?” He speaks yearningly. You find yourself feeling breathless.

Running his hand through his hair once more, he inhales deeply, seemingly gathering courage. You await in anticipation at his next words.

“I love you.”

“I love you y/n. It’s driving me fucking insane at this point,” he utters with almost a light edge of desperation. Your lips part; you wish you could be surprised. But, you knew this was coming, it was only a matter of time of who would put their high walls down and crumble first.

You didn’t expect Taehyun to do it. That much more he made himself vulnerable, to think that he thought of you so highly. You regard him with the sweetest gaze and a subtle smile on your lips.

Suddenly, you lean forward pressing your lips against his, moving your lips against his with a ferocity that took Taehyun off-guard. His arm slides around your waist as his other hand takes your hand placing it on his shoulder. The intense kiss lasts a few seconds before you part breathless; an imbecilic smile on your face.

“Princess, you-?” His eyes glimmer unsurely.

“I love you too, Taehyun,” you murmur letting your fingers caress his cheek, “Let me repeat it once more, I love you too.”

“But-“ he begins in initial surprise, you shush him, “No, I reciprocate your feelings. I’ve felt this way for a while. Don’t doubt it. You have too, haven’t you?” He remains quiet before a chuckle escapes his lips, “It was a matter of time, wasn’t it?”

“Who was willing to become the most vulnerable, first,” you resume. “I suppose you’ve allowed me to be more comfortable with expressing myself,” he murmurs with a genuine smile. “I’m glad, Taehyun,” you hum, joy filling you.

“What does that make us then, hm?” He muses as his hand once again takes yours. “What do you think, Taehyun?” You hum back.

“Lovers? A princess falling for a sorcerer rather than a prince or her knight?” He murmurs smirking. You muse, “Why must the story always be the same? Who said the princess must always go for those two?”

“The court won’t approve,” he states. “They won’t,” you nod, “But that doesn’t stop me from loving you. Perhaps, perhaps if my parents were around, this wouldn’t occur. But,” you shakily sigh, “They’re not. My word, as the heir to the throne, is final. If they disapprove, so be it, it is a hardship I am willing to handle.”

Taehyun gazes at you so longingly that it leaves you quiet. “As you wish, your highness,” he coyly hums. Rolling your eyes, “Oh hush with that nonsense.”

“Do not think for a second, I’ll ever leave your side, sweetheart,” he murmurs seriously. With a smile, you murmur, “I never thought that for a single moment, Taehyun.”

He gives you a smile, a rather endearing one, in fact making you release a laugh. “What?” Taehyun questions. Shaking your head, you wrap your arms around him and hug him, “Nothing.”

You feel rather content for the first time in a long time. A sense of safety, security and being cherished. You felt unstoppable with him by your side, perhaps it was naive, no, foolish to think that way but he truly did give you a newfound confidence.

After lounging around more and discussing a few more things related to confronting Sehun, Taehyun gets up, beginning to slide his cloak over his shoulders and hoisting his boots on.

“Mm, I need to restock on some herbs otherwise the food we make will taste shit. Perhaps, I can also hunt while I’m out there. Pick some berries too, I’m overdue.”

He slings his satchel over his shoulder and grabs two wicker baskets. “I’ll be out for a few hours, don’t panic if I run late after the sunset.” You nod with a frown, “Try to come back quickly.”

Taehyun grins, “Why? Scared the Bloodmoths are going to get you?” You scoff, “No, I’m just worried that you have only just healed and you’re already putting yourself in danger.”

“I do not plan to eat different variations of soup for another day longer, sweetheart. So, off I go,” he hums.

“Don’t open the door if you hear anything. Creatures here are rather different due to the magic phenomena here. Keep all the window curtains closed and always keep the candles lit alright. I’ll be back quick,” he smiles.

You nod, slightly at unease. He had done this several times even before you knew each other. It was his way of life here, why were you so paranoid? Perhaps, because you were both so happy for once. Afraid that he wouldn’t come back.

He bids you adieu and you’re left to your own company in the dimly lit cabin. It felt empty without him. You spend the next half an hour getting comfortable on the sofa, finding the drafty cabin to make your eyelids feel heavier and heavier. A nap, would perhaps suffice to allow the time to pass and prevent your mind from wandering. Yes, a nap indeed - you close your eyes content.

A pair of sharp eyes peer as he finally ascertains that Taehyun is far enough away. A smirk lines his lips, “My, my, you really have made yourself at home here, haven’t you?” His gaze darkens as he stands up from his crouching. Of course he did, not like he’d die out so easily; a scoff leaves Yeonjun’s lips. Of course he’d be a thorn in his side all these years later.

The palace in Fortuna was oddly in pindrop silence. A malicious smile appears on Yeonjun’s lips thinking about the events that had transpired these last few days. Sehun’s death came as an apparent shock rattling the Royal Court and the citizens of Fortuna who considered this to be a terrible omen. Now, there was no Royal Family to head the country.

“Oh poor Sehun, the poor boy. To think suicide would be his cause of death.” Well, if only the public and court knew. Everything was transitioning smoothly.

He still remembers when some of the members of the Royal Court naturally approached him. His eyes riddled with fake tears; and sniffling as though Sehun actually meant something to him. It was laughable to Yeonjun, really. He knew damn well why the members of the court approached him.

After all, he’d be the most apt choice to be placed at Fortuna’s figurehead. “Yeonjun, think about it, alright? We know it’s a lot to ask and we’re not pressuring you. If not, we can arrange for someone else.”

Bastards, he knew everyone in that damn hall wanted the position he was now set up for. These empty words and fake reassurances. Ha! These lords, chancellors and barons, all of them, they were just as filthy, just as happy as Yeonjun was about Sehun’s death.

It left the ruling spot empty, that’s why. Not for long. Currently, Yeonjun was the figurehead, temporary monarch, per se. Well, he’d make it permanent.

His mind drifts back to two days ago; when he found himself sitting on the Royal Throne. The servants all grimacing with disgust or appallment. The chancellor and treasurer were infuriated.“What is the meaning of this insolence?” “How dare you sit on the throne, as though you were King?”

“Because I will be.” The words had left his mouth sharper than any blade sending shivers into the two men. He had summoned his wand pointing it at the two as the guards in the room held their weapons up. “I will be King. The beginning of a new era. The Kim Dynasty is over.”

“Guards, stop this. This is treason,” the chancellor had yelled but to no avail. The guards held still. They were ordered to do so, after all.

The treasurer had been horrified at this stumbling back. Perhaps the recent deaths had some meaning after all. A purpose.

The foolish chancellor had rushed forward in his fury, making Yeonjun smirk. Well he had supposed, it was about time he taught these sorry fools a lesson, albeit, he didn’t think it would be so soon.

Thus, he had turned the chancellor into stone, in front of the guards and the treasurer’s very eyes. He still enjoyed the terrified expression on the treasurer's face as he fell to his knees, mortified.

Oh how good it felt to finally hear, “Your highness,” fall from his lips. He would stop at nothing, not even a rebellion to lose this position. Not with his sorcery. He’d make the people love him.

Yeonjun shakes his head; shattering his memories. Well now, he’d take matters into his own hands. There was still one glaring problem. The two of you. Not even you, rather insignificant as you were. It was mainly Taehyun that he was after.

Yeonjun mutters walking out from the shrubbery and brushing himself off, “Fucking nuisance, always has to get involved.” A breathless laugh leaves his lips, poor you. Because Taehyun had gotten involved, now you’d be an extra casualty. He may have even left you alone, if you’d been just a good little princess and ran off and started afresh.

Not many could traverse the Woods of Mors, rather difficult terrain, strange creatures and illusions. Any ordinary human would go insane in here, but of course, any magic user would be safe. Yeonjun had not expected much when he stepped foot in here. Though when he cast a spell; he was shocked to find an intense mana source resonating from within the woods.

Who would have thought it would be Taehyun's lovely little decrepit abode? Yeonjun chuckles, stepping forward towards the cabin. His eyes widen as feels a light buzz and he notices a subtly glowing dome around the cabin.

How very clever, of course he wouldn’t leave you so vulnerable. A force field, just enough to stop the dim-witted creatures here - but not him. He reaches his hand through it and grunts in pain as he utters an enchantment. Within seconds, the force field dissipates.

Smirking, he strides ahead reaching the door and gives it a knock. Hm, how would your pretty little face look upon seeing him and not your beloved companion?

You’re woken up by a sudden knocking. Yawning, you peer at the door. Was Taehyun back already? Abruptly, you stand and walk over, but before you could open the door. You hesitate. A nervousness permeates your lower stomach and swirls uneasily. Why were your instincts acting up?

Who else would be here? No creature would knock like a human would, could they?

You halt; you were smarter than this. Perhaps, peeking through the curtains would be better first. Thus, you do. You delicately peek through the curtains and immediate nausea fills your senses. No. No. No.

No way. Had Sehun sent Yeonjun to come find you? How could they have possibly known? You were all alone, against a formidable sorcerer? Your hands tremble as your lips quiver. Perhaps he’ll leave when he realises no one is home. Maybe he’ll think you’ve gone out with Taehyun.

You slink down onto the floor shakily, your breaths tumbling out of you as panic sets in. This wasn’t good. This came out of nowhere! You really hope Taehyun will come back soon!

Another knock resounds out, harsher this time. Another one. Fear consumes you as you find your legs unable to get up. This couldn’t be happening.

It goes eerily silent all of a sudden. Your breath hitches and muscles stiffen. Did he leave?

Just as your shoulders begin to ease, the door creaks. You hear a small sound reminiscent of chimes and the muffled murmur of his voice. Instantaneously, the front door flies off its hinges crashing into the wall and what little furniture there was with a humongous clatter. A scream rips out of your lips as you cover your head and curl up onto the floor.

Of course! Of course he uses his sorcery! Tears drip down your face as you clamp your eyes shut. The floor creaks as footsteps walk towards you accompanied by an incredibly demeaning chuckle.

“Goodness me, princess. Did I scare you?” Yeonjun muses. He coos, “If only you had opened the door, the first time I knocked. Too bad you’re a cautious little thing aren’t you? Did Taehyun teach you that? To not open the door for anyone, hm?” A breathy chuckle escapes his lips, almost as if he’s restraining his excitement.

You shiver, pitiful whimpers leaving your lips as you sit up peering back at the broken door. “Oh, I'm sure he can replace it. Just a little wood and his wand, hm? He won’t be too mad will he?” Yeonjun grins. The light from outside gleams in around him, making his tall figure that looms even more menacing.

He takes a step forward; his gaze trailing your frightened form as you scoot back. “Oh? Do you not recognise me, princess? Or was I so insignificant in your eyes? I suppose your brother was more keen.”

You steel yourself and speak with hatred in your tone, “Did Sehun send you here?”

For a moment he ponders your question before throwing his head back laughing. “How funny! Oh princess, princess, no. I came here of my own volition.” You stiffen. What? Did he come for Taehyun, not you?

“Did…did you come for Taehyun?” You stammer shakily. Yeonjun walks forward with a sinister smile, “Oh? Why do you ask that? Did he tell you about our little history?”

You go quiet. “Oh so he did,” Yeonjun darkly hums. “Oh, you must hate me, no? Despise me for my betrayal. I could sit here and plead for your approval, beg you to hear my side of the story princess, but you know what? I won’t.”

You tremble; the look in his eyes. It scares you; it’s deranged. The look of a predator who had finally locked in on its prey, knowing it would succeed with its kill.

“To think that pitiful waste of space got tangled up in your mess. What? Did you bat your pretty lashes up at him, beg at his feet and cry your little heart out, princess? He’s not easy to sway or get to open up, y’know?” Yeonjun muses looking down at you. Tears drip down your face.

He crouches down right in front of you with a dark smile. “Hm, just how much has he told you? Everything about me?” You seethe shakily, “You’re despicable, being partly responsible for their exile. You could have spoken up against your father.”

Yeonjun chuckles running his fingers through his blonde strands of hair, “Against my father? My, he really went into the gritty details, huh? You two have gotten real close, hm?”

Yeonjun’s eyes gaze at your nervous visage before dropping to your neck, his eyes catch a glimpse of a dark, almost bruised patch and a mockingly amused gleam lights up his eyes. “My, my… I’ve got my answer. Very close it seems. Huh, didn’t think he was that type. No…I didnt think he was your type.”

He laughs as you feel disgusted; your hand flies up to hide the love bite. “Oh, then I’m sure he won’t like me taking you away from him then.” You stiffen. “What?”

“You’re coming back to the palace, princess,” Yeonjun utters nonchalantly. “No-“ you yelp, scooting back and he sighs almost in a frustrated tone, “Oh don’t make this difficult.”

“You plan to hand me over to Sehun. He’ll- he’ll imprison me, no- execute me!”

Yeonjun stands up, looming over you with a malicious laugh leaving his lips, “Oh? I suppose I should break the news, eventually, though I suppose you’ll be happy.” He leans down slightly as his voice deepens, “He’s dead. Sehun is dead, princess.” His words seems to send whiplash throughout your body, “W-What?”

“He took his own life, tragic, hm?” Yeonjun muses. You quiver, “No, no. I don’t believe you. Surely, he wouldn’t after all he’s done…” Your eyes flicker panicked, “Who’s running the kingdom? The people?”

Yeonjun smiles and hums, “Look at you, getting worried for your beloved people, how noble. No need to fret,” he reaches his hand out grabbing your wrist, “I’m in charge.”

Writhing your wrist in his vice-like grasp, you grit out, “What? Temporarily, you mean.”

“Oh no; I plan to make it quite permanent princess,” Yeonjun tugs harshly and you stumble forward, your face inches from his. “And the last thing I want is the two of you ruining everything at the last minute,” he darkly whispers; his breath caressing your face. He almost says with sudden hushed glee, “So, come with me. Or I’ll make you. Who knows, maybe taking a walk with me may be good for both of us?”

You snarl, shoving him away and getting up, “You disgraceful man, all you care about is yourself. The nation is hanging on by a thread, thousands of lives are dependent and here you are. You selfish bastard!” You rage. Yeonjun’s jaw tightens, “Don’t piss me off, princess. It will not be pretty, I really am trying to be gentle with you.”

You bitterly scoff, “You are just a pitiful excuse of a man. No matter how much power you wish to have, nothing will change the weakness that lies inside of you. The pitiable jealousy you have. The urge to show others that you are superior.” His gaze becomes malevolent as he summons his wand in his right hand.

“Mm, aren’t you quite the talker? Reminds me of your brother, he was always quite foolish in these situations. Never really knew when to keep his mouth shut,” he sends a shot of mana aimed at you and you duck with yelp; it barely misses you.

He steps forward, his wand prickling with intense mana energy. The air was heating up, he was infuriated. “You have no idea what I’ll do to get what I want. How far I’m willing to go. And what I want now is you back in the palace.” You snarl, “You are insane!”

Yeonjun marches forward, grasping your forearm and you scream with all your might. You stretch your arm, leaning over to the kitchen counter and grabbing the knife and swinging it towards him. He lets go with a breathless laugh, “Now that was dirty move, princess.”

You really hope Taehyun heard you, or at least comes back by instinct. Your eyes peer at the opening where the door was. You were trapped here within these walls, you had to get out. Yeonjun catches your gaze and he menacingly murmurs, “Don’t even think about it.”

Immediately, you bolt, shoving past him and make your way to the exit. Before you can even make it one step outside, you feel your body suddenly buzz; a similar feeling when mana has entered your body. You feel electrified before a sharp pain pierces you. Your knees buckle and within moments; your vision blacks out.

Yeonjun sighs as he hears the thud of your body fall against the cobbled path. How unfortunate, he wanted to kindly escort you back, but no, you just had to take the hard route, as most people did. Well, he supposes it will do you some good to get some shut eye for the next few hours.

He can’t help but smirk as he sees your unconscious face, brushing the hair out of the way. Huh, no wonder Taehyun didn’t say no. Who could deny such a pretty face? Perhaps, if he’d waited a bit longer when he was younger, he’d have manipulated you, instead of Sehun. It would have been far more enjoyable for so many years. Having you as a lover, would have made it much easier to get the crown, no, you’d have probably handed it over to him, yourself.

Yeonjun muses, “Mm, if only you’d have been a little more cooperative.”

Wherever you were.

He was bound to follow.

Yeonjun’s eyes peer at the cabin and the messy interior, scattered books and broken furniture. Hm, surely he couldn’t leave without leaving a little gift for his dearest old friend. He snaps his fingers murmuring a few words as a spark escapes his fingers landing at the doorframe. Not like he’d need this place for much longer anyway.

Immediately flames begin travelling up the rickety wood and the house groans as if in pain. A twisted expression of admiration appears on Yeonjun’s face. His years of hard work, burning down. Perhaps, it was a touch too cruel, but he had to be humbled. After all, he shouldn’t have gotten involved. He needs to learn his lesson again.

With a prompt grunt, he scoops you up into his arms, beginning to walk. He smiles malevolently peering down at you.

“See you soon, old friend,” he hums, taking one final glance at the now blazing cabin before walking off with you in his arms.

Smoke rises from atop the forest canopy, though this time, not from a chimney, but from the burning remains of one’s desire to hope and dream.

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staryarn · 11 days ago

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Staryarn Limbus oc's dot png

LCHR also known as limbus company human resources is a devision in where their goal is restoring humanity to the city and investigating the light and distortions

Name: Celvie De La Roché

Sinner #: 1

Particulars: [REDACTED], Obsessive, Manipulative

Color: #8F00FF Electric Violet

Affiliation: Reverberation Ensemble

Gender: (include pronouns here if you want) Agender Nonbinary they / them

Age: 28

Height: 6'0 / 180 cm

Weapon Name: Silence

Emoji: 🎙

Canto Name: The Silenced

Literary Source: The Mute Singer

The fixer known as the Violet Songbird. Once had a relationship with Zorro and is in a ‘current’ relationship with their finance Honorine, Director of I corp. Previously a test subject for I corp they have many connections inside. Celvie lived in the backstreets of I corp. They were mentored by the Blue Reverberation. Celvie ‘lost’ their voice due to an unfortunate accident which lead them to be bedridden for a year (or two. Vague timeline). They awoke with a bow restraining their mouth and vocal chords. After white nights and dark days they distorted and joined the Reverberation Ensemble. Only after encountering Zorro as a distortion were they ‘saved’. The Manager of this bus in charge for all of their sinners. They join their sinners in battle by taking their place and keep them 'alive' by stealing their voices. After all your voice is what you're remembered by.

Name: Sonic

Sinner #: 2

Particulars: Very positive and uplifting. Always figures our what to do. Loves some friendly competition. Can not cry

Color: #17569b (Sega)

Affiliation: The Color of the Blue Blur

Gender: He / Him

Age: 26

Height: 6' / 180 cm

Weapon Name: Sound

Emoji: 🌀

Canto Name: Escape from the City

Literary Source: Sonic the hedgehog

The Color known as the "Blue Blur". He's one of the fastest alive with multiple arm and many leg enhancements. His whole plan is to escape from the City but he's countered by a lifelike AI that's taking his image. Along with that he meets a mysterious black and red fellow committing 'crimes' which he takes the blame for.

---

Name: Charlotte Wiltshire

Sinner #: 3

Particulars: The world's specialist girl. Observant and "kind". Rebellious in nature and quietly planning.

Color: #fbab17 (vivid orange)

Affiliation: I Corp (formerly)

Gender: She / Her

Age: 22

Height: 5'1 / 157 cm

Weapon Name: House

Emoji: 📺

Canto Name: Hello World

Literary Source: Hello Charlotte

A former "protagonist" who is playing under the rules of the house in I corp. She is at the center of the wing and was it's beating heart (it's singularity). She escaped on her own to form her own freedom and narrative.

---

Name: "Tianzhu" [■■■■]

Sinner #: 4

Particulars: self-centered, vengeful, egotistical , charismatic, everchanging

Color: #00A86B Jade Green

Affiliation: M corp

Gender: She / her

Age: 24

Height: 5'6 / 167 cm

Weapon Name: 复仇

Emoji: 🍡

Canto Name: The Waxing and Waning

Literary Source: The Journey to the West

A Backstreets resident generously taken in by M corp and director, Chang'e. Harmed by a noble named Su'e, Tianzhu steals her identity in revenge and escapes from M corp. She continues to live this false life until confronted by Chang'e who tries to take her back to M corp forcefully. She is recruited by Limbus for her precise skills of identity theft.

---

Name: Victoria and ■■■■■

Sinner #: 5

Particulars: Prideful and Haughty this sinner is a nuisance to deal with. Treat with caution as her temper will suddenly flare up. Treat her with care and use the money set aside for her to pacify her. She loves attention of all kinds. Extremely Violent.

Color: #C21E56 rose red

Affiliation: T corp, The Outskirts

Gender: She / Her, lesbian

Age: 25

Height: 6'5 / 195 cm

Weapon Name: Queen

Emoji:💔

Canto Name: The Execution

Literary Source: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

A sinner taken from the outskirts into a rich and noble family living in T corp. With so many hours in the day she never had to care about spending them properly. Due to her high ranking family she quickly found a powerful 'job'. Only when she crossed the line of that job did she get her first taste of blood. She executed hundreds based on whim before running away and finding refuge in Limbus. As a sinner it's often very hard to work with her yet like most on this bus she shares her own secrets. Easily swayed by compliments

Name: Nie-Lang

Sinner #: 6

Particulars: Protective, Caring, Impulsive, Desperate

Color: #eae0c8 Pearl Luster

Affiliation: S corp

Gender: She / They (Agender)

Age: 24

Height: 5'3 / 160 cm

Weapon Name: 珍珠 (Pearl)

Emoji: 🦪

Canto Name: The Devouring

Literary Source: The Dragon and the Pearl

A sinner who hails from S corp. Previously a fixer who managed to find a hidden relic. Upon prosperity she was too naive with her kindness which led to S corp officials trying to retrieve the relic. In a panic she placed the relic in her mouth and swallowed, running away from her home as a distortion. Now a wanted 'criminal' she joins Limbus to return home and free her family. She previously was a protector for her hometown.

---

Name : Icarus

Sinner # : 7

Particulars: Self- centered, Prideful, Blinded to those around him , Vain and boastful

Color: #ffcc33 Sunglow

Affiliation: Labyrinth Workshop, The Color of the Citrine Glow

Gender: trans He / Him

Age: 23

Height: 6'0 / 180 cm

Weapon Name: Waning

Emoji: ⛅️

Canto Name: The Flight

Literary Source: The fall of Icarus

Icarus is also known as the Citrine Glow, a fixer who soared above the rest to only fall because of his own pride. He was previously burned and partially blinded in a fight which led to his father being kidnapped. His father is a well known owner of a workshop that managed to trap a distortion known as the ‘minotaur’. Due to a previous agreement , Icarus and his father were trapped for a period of time before attempting to escape. His father flew too low and was captured while Icarus, Blinded by the light of the city, managed to flee. However his reputation took a hit when he went rogue. He has previously worked with the Violet Songbird and respects them, barely. However as a sinner on board Limbus he ignores everyone else and seeks out his own image.

Name: Yuu

Sinner #: 8

Particulars: gets lost easily, careless , an alcoholic who tries to drown away out of their sorrows, is scared of disappearing

Color: #474f79 Dusk Wine

Affiliation: K corp

Gender: Nonbinary they / them

Age: 23

Height: 5'6 / 167 cm

Weapon Name: TOXY

Emoji: 💉

Canto Name: The Intoxicating

~~Literary Source~~: Toxy by Kujiragi / Nilfruits

A disgraced scientist at K corp who managed to kill all of his coworkers. Though he was rewarded for doing so the event left him with a very vivid hallucination. He's an alcoholic who has no joy In life, living for no purpose. His enjoyment of the world was crushed long ago and he never gained it back. He was recruited by Limbus for his skills.

---

Name: Lenore

Sinner #: 9

Particulars: Paranoid, quiet, quick to anger

Color: #9b95951 mourning dove

Affiliation: R corp,

Gender: She / her

Age: 34

Height: 5'5 / 165 cm

Weapon Name: Nevermore

Emoji: 🕊

Lenore was previously working at R corp. She faced countless versions of herself in the hatcheries and faced a Never Ending loop. During a mission she lost Most of her team with one ‘Raven’ surviving. She lost her lover and took on her name, tossing away her own. She escaped R corp illegally and took refuge in Limbus. Now she's being haunted by that same surviving Raven who keeps haunting her.

Name : "Winter" ■■■■

Sinner # : 10

Particulars: [REDACTED], Obsessive, Prideful, self centered , Quick witted

Color: #739BD0 ice blue

Affiliation: I corp Bloodfiends

Gender: he / him

Age: 24

Height: 5'8 / 172 cm

Weapon Name: Sync

Emoji: ❄️

Canto Name: The Shattering

Literary Source: ~~pokemon masters ex~~, King Lear

Lear codename Winter Is the single heir of a prominent bloodfiend family in I corp. While living with his family he had a grand arena where humans would fight to the death, ultimately being a source of entertainment and food. The bloodfiends ‘live in peace’ because they struck an agreement with I corp (also known as Identification Corp. It specializes in television and radio broadcasting). After losing a battle himself Winter was starved and locked away. After a while he had enough and ran away to form his own fixer office, accompanied by his kindred Rachel and Sawyer. During that time he met Celvie and formed a sibling bond with them. As they grew in the ranks of a fixer Lear stagnated, leading to an argument between the two that forced Celvie to leave permanently. Now on the bus he's reunited with his dear sister.

---

Name: Zorro

Sinner #: 11

Particulars: [REDACTED], Observer

Color: #a7db42 android green

Affiliation: Cinq association

Gender: She/ her

Age: 25

Height: 5'8 / 172 cm

Weapon Name: Curse

Emoji: 🌙

Canto Name: The Blinding

Literary Source: The Curse of Capistrano / The mark of Zorro

Zorro Vega (also previously known as [REDACTED] is a wealthy and rich heir to her father's estate. She once was the director of Cinq North (I think. One of the directions idk) and dated the Violet Songbird. She disappeared after her father's tragic death. Now she's back on the bus with one purpose. To topple it with the rest of the city and to truly provide her idea of ‘justice’ to the city.

Name: Phos

Sinner #: 12

Particulars: Stubborn, overconfident , Naive, has an inferiority complex

Color: #108780 porcelain green

Affiliation: Dieci Association

Gender: nonbinary they / them

Age: 20

Height: 5'5

Weapon Name: Encyclopedia

Emoji: 💎

Canto Name: The Evolving

Literary Source: Houseki no Kuni / Land of the Lusterous

Phos also known as Phosphophyllite is a former Dieci fixer. They used to work with a group of fixers known as ‘gems’ before leaving. Above them all was their mentor ‘Kongo’ (later known as Adamant). Phos lost their legs when venturing into the sea in U corp. Their legs were replaced with prosthetics that were very sturdy but fast and hard to move in. Eventually they lost their arms by falling into an icy lake. Their arms were later replaced with a semi fluid like material that seemed it's way into their body, making them much sturdier. Phos is a battle fanatic despite being generally weak and very killable. They left the Dieci after figuring out their mentor was keeping secrets. Now out to seek the truth they join Limbus and come in contact with M corp, eventually becoming one of their pawns. Phos eventually distorts and puppets other members of the bus who have previously distorted.

---

Name: Cyra Amore

Sinner #: 13

Particulars: Kind hearted, sweet, one to sugar coat things, avoids confrontation at all costs, Runs away from things

Color: #FfE3D9 Misty Rose

Affiliation: Identification corp

Gender: She / Her

Age: 27

Height: 6'5 / 185 cm

Weapon Name: V - Fib

Emoji: 💕

Canto Name: The Heart-Stopper

Literary Source: original character / heart forecast

One of I corps many test subjects. At an early age she was brought up as a child star , actor, and singer. Over the years she became I corp's top Idol, naming herself the "Prince" of that district. With so many fans and her role of playing cupid she ran away to the bus.

#FINAL VERSION #I HOPE #lynhref #lynh ref #oc #ocs #yarnart #save #“adrien why is gender pronouns” SHUT UP #“adrien what about your bus driver and your guide” SHUT UUUUUUP

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aelyxiae · 4 months ago

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TF One Spoilers

On plans, adaptation, and improvisation

I've been thinking about how, at the pivotal point in the movie where the main cast finds out about Sentinel's betrayal, D-16 comments to the effect of "Oh, great. Another, Orion Pax master plan". And it is true that throughout the course of the movie, we see a lot of Orion's 'plans' – from the archive to the Iacon 5000 to the ultimate reveal of Sentinel's betrayal. But, are they really plans?

Starting with the opening chase out of the archive, Orion is very clearly setup to have extensive knowledge and an ability to quickly make decisions and execute actions based on that knowledge. However, within this opening sequence, it is not clear that he has a preset plan, as much as adapting his actions to the circumstances and events surrounding him.

At the very beginning of the chase scene, as Orion runs through the archive, he is muttering about finding "something that flies". The route that he takes to escape does not appear to be pre-planned in details as much as it is a general idea of getting away. This is evident in how getting knocked from the air, sliding across building tops, and falling into the middle of an ongoing party doesn't seem in anyway disruptive or give Orion pause in his course of action. Further, the moment before Orion jumps on the train full of miners, he is shown to look in that direction, suggesting that the idea occurs because he sees the train and not necessarily because he always knew it was going to be there.

A similar kind of thinking comes into play only a short while later, in the scene of the collapsing mining tunnel, wherein Orion only thinks to use the jetpack to help provide the leverage to free Jazz after Jazz's comment that they should just take their packs and go.

Similarly in the Iacon 5000, both Orion and D display similar adaptive thinking skills to keep themselves in the race and look out for each other in constantly changing and treacherous circumstances. Perhaps the most notable example though from this sequence is the moment when they use the exhaust vent system to jump from far behind to the lead of the race, which calls back to their journey past a similar vent on their way to the start of the Iacon 5000 and Orion's comment about being careful because of the vents' ability to shoot one halfway across the city.

This same adaptation to circumstance is also what ultimately allows the group to still expose Sentinel Prime after losing the proof provided by Alpha Trion. It fits in the same pattern of behavior as previous adaptations and improvisations of Orion's throughout the movie that when Airachnid mentions seeing everything, he immediately takes this information and factors it into a way for them all to move forwards towards their original goal.

To a lesser extent, the same can be noted about Elita-1 and D-16 as well in certain scenes. For example, during the train sequence leading up to them first reaching the surface, Elita at one point uses unlocking one of the locked-down crates as a method for getting ahead of D-16, Orion, and B below here. Again, it is not clear that this is necessarily a pre-planned action as much as her taking advantage of the position in which she found herself and knowledge about the environment to move towards her goals. D-16 displays these same capabilities, as mentioned earlier, in the Iacon 5000 race sequence. But also, there is a similarity between the kick motion that he uses to throw off Starscream during their fight and a similar kicking motion that he would have witnessed earlier in the Iacon 5000 used to dislodge Orion from one of the other racers that he was clinging on to to get ahead in the tunnel portion of the race.

Overall, these scenes seem to suggest that the miners in general may have a greater capacity for and reliance on adaptability – something that could be necessary, considering they are shown to work in a hazardous and constantly shifting environment. And further, that Orion in particular through out the course of the movie is shown to rely on this ability in order to continue moving forwards in the face of uncertainty and difficult circumstances.

#tf one #tf one spoilers #transformers one #transformers one spoilers #orion pax #d 16 #d-16 #elita one #elita 1 #aelyxiae thoughts

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tothisemptiness · 3 months ago

Text

Golden Hour: Part 2 Analysis Bonus: Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going?

Sorry for the long title but this was just the perfect opportunity to use my favourite art piece title of all times (even though I hate Gauguin's style). As you can understand from the title, I will discuss the parallels and juxtapositions between each protagonist's character in the start and as of Golden Hour: Part 2. This doesn't further my theories in any way and I'm doing this solely because I think it's fun to notice and compare these. If you want to see the previous posts of this series you can find them below:

Part I: The Diaries

Part II: "Ice On My Teeth" MV

Part III: The Chess Piece Theory

Hongjoong: Captain had started this journey with the main intention of getting on TV and finding his family. In the process, he used music and dance as a tool for his goal and created himself a new family thanks to this. In the end he did get on the TV and found the family he was looking for, even though he strayed away from music and dance and did this through literature. But now the family he created is scattered across the world with separate lives, barely ever communicating, just like his biological family was. Get one, lose one I guess.

Seonghwa: In the beginning Seonghwa was sick and tired of all the routine and to-do lists. The thing that triggered his attraction to art was actually how free the dancing girl seemed. However, he found solace in emergency training when he was working through the traumas of World Z. I don't know if you've ever had any emergency training, but they are basically to-do lists that you must memorize so well that you can execute them flawlessly without thinking. The thing that basically freed Seonghwa from his own mind was routine and to-do lists. In fact, he found this more comforting than vague dreams. This also manifests itself in The World diaries too since Seonghwa was the planner of the group. Maybe the road to freedom wasn't getting out of the routine, it was just planning with a goal in mind.

Yunho: Yunho's trigger was his brother's death and most of his arc was about grief and moving on. However, Yunho very clearly doesn't move on. He becomes an archaeologist after seeing another Cromer in hopes of finding more artifacts and going back to his dangerous yet glorious life in World Z. Or to take back the time and go back to save his brother again. As far as we can see, he is the only member who chooses a path in life with the direct goal of going back. Furthermore, as an archaeologist his job and lifestyle is about dead people and their lives, which becomes a bit meaningful considering his brother's death. I'm sorry if this last part sounds insensitive, I literally cannot find a way to mention this sensitively.

Yeosang: I find his character development the most interesting actually. First of all, it was never about music at all when it comes to Yeosang. He was already playing music; in fact, he was forced to play it. What drew him to the group was escaping expectations. However, at the end of the day, he plays right into them. He becomes an investor just like his father (I imagine, but he may have a different job related to finance too). He tries to prove to himself that he is different by financing arts but in the end he is the one to tell Wooyoung that he should not try again because a life that doesn't follow his first passion is not a failure and is good enough. Rather aggressively. He reminds me of a father who is concerned that his son will doom himself to failure by taking the risk of becoming an artist and wants him to just settle with a normal job. Very much like his own father.

San: In the first Fever diaries, San's big issue was moving around too fast to form meaningful relationships. He was basically being dragged around by his family. And then he decided to stay at one place where he formed them. And when everyone started moving on he realised staying at one place was not the key to this: it was what you make of the relationships you form in the limited time you have. So he starts moving around to create new relationships and experiences; because life is about sharing love, eating together, and cleaning up after your own messes. And he wants to share love and eat together with many people. He still does the same thing he used to hate when he was young, but this time he does it with his own consent and moves only when he is ready. I think it was always about consent with San: the difference between exploring and not being dragged around.

Mingi: There is a crazy juxtaposition between Mingi's poverty when he was young and his extreme wealth now. When he was young he was basically a ghost because of his social and economical status and was only noticed when he was about to be bullied, except for Wooyoung. Now he is the talk of the world and is highly praised.

Wooyoung: I am looking through the notes I took while going through each diary entry ever as I write this and I realized something: I didn't write anything about Wooyoung. Because Wooyoung is the only stagnant character. His wishes don't change, nor does his humour. And the only reason I can find for this is he is the only character who didn't manage to move even one inch to his dream, he wanted to become a dancer and he still isn't a dancer. And he isn't the type to settle too, he is an artist through and through.

Jongho: When we first meet him he was clinging on to music and becoming an idol after his dream of becoming a basketball player had failed. Now his dream of becoming an idol is through too and he is settle with just being a producer. He still believes the opportunity will present itself but let's be honest, at 24 (I take irl Jongho's age for the character's age, check Part I for explanation) it is basically impossible to become an idol with no previous media exposure. I think becoming a producer and vocal coach for new groups and trainees because you weren't picked as an idol is very similar to becoming a basketball coach because you couldn't make it as a player. Jongho can never achieve his full dream, he always has to settle.

What Is Their True Passion?

As I was writing this I realized something: The only members who pursued music/dancing for music/dancing's own sake were Wooyoung and Jongho. For all else it was just a tool to achieve what they were missing. Hongjoong used it to become famous and reunite with his family, Seonghwa did it because of the feeling of freedom and beauty it provided, Yunho only got interested because he wanted to fulfill his brother's dream despite his life being cut short, Yeosang wasn't even scouted because he was an artist but because of his engineering and accepted the group's offer because it was the only place he felt he could live up to expectations (manning drones is a fulfillable expectation for him), San was in for the stable relationships he could finally form and Mingi was mainly into music because it was a way for him to escape his reality.

We see all these members achieve their goals in the end: HJ finds his family, SH feels free one way or another, Yeosang can live up to the expectations of him becoming a successful investor, San is forming bonds his way and Mingi is no longer struggling financially so he has nothing to run away from. Yunho still hasn't achieved dream but has found a way that doesn't involve art.

We can clearly see for any of these guys it was never about art at all so they have an easier time moving on from this phase. Wooyoung and Jongho, however, are the only ones who actually did art for art's sake and in the diary they are the only ones who are serious about trying again. However Jongho is the kind of person to settle with "good enough", he likes his peace more than making his true dream come true (and who can blame him for that?) while Wooyoung will do whatever it takes to achieve his first dream, because it is his only dream. That is why Yeosang's words don't make sense to him and seem cowardly. This is where the controversy is: he can't understand the others because he doesn't know what their real goals were and the others cannot understand him because for them art was never the thing they were really chasing after so accepting to pursue another dream isn't that hard.

So clearly, when Wooyoung wishes to reignite a passion he doesn't specify, there are a wide range of passions that can be reignited within the group. And I am so curious to see how events will unfold following the latest diary. Thanks for coming to my TED talk <3

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terrence-silver · 9 months ago

Note

I have a prompt for CK Terry (Season 5) with a younger woman (say her 30s?):

Daniel & co. manage to execute another infiltration plan, but unlike with Chozen (as "Joe"), this plan actually works, and now they've got a woman on the inside, working as a spy. Her main goal is to find something - anything - incriminating about Terry Silver, and to get out. After a few months, she finds some dirt on him, but he catches her alone in the dojo before she can make her escape with the evidence. I'm imagining him as having trusted her and been attracted to her, but feel free to change his feelings to suit your desires (I'm hoping they will be suitably diabolical, as mine are!).

Thank you as always for your wonderful words!

FATALITY, FIDELITY, FORMALITY

(Terry Silver x Reader)

---

-"Find what you were looking for?"-

Your heart leaps into your throat when you hear that voice and a flash of everything you diligently strived to achieve so far goes collapsing in front of your eyes like a waking fever dream; Terry Silver was right behind you, standing on the threshold and he’s caught you rummaging through a study desk drawer and of course he made no sound, not even the most meager announcement of his presence or any of his movements, footsteps, as always, catching you unaware while somewhere deep down you desperately hoped that he too was human, and that he too, as such, would make the simple mistake of being at least barely audible when sneaking up on you so that you could avoid him. Intercept him. Cease whatever you were doing and make yourself scarce. Rely on the faint hope the coast would be clear while you were incriminating yourself like this. Stop before you were spotted, outright, bending over the work surface, hand gripping a manilla file in a heated rush. Once he moves forward, with a smile, leisurely, like he wasn’t in a hurry, you forget to breathe.

-"It amazes me that you’re really here thinking someone’s gonna throw a fit over a copy of a document on depleted Uranium from 1979. Most people don’t even know what that is."-

He was laughing. He was laughing at you.

Your panicking eyes dart back and forth between him and the folder you were squeezing for dear life, a sudden flash of shame washing over you like a searing hot shower, causing the top of your scalp to sweat and your guts to start coiling deep inside of you belly; point was, you spent six months alone just building up the territory and the trust to even dream of recovering as much as you recovered, feeling, no, being convinced you were on the verge of something important only for him to show up and snicker in your face like you were an idiot. An idiot going through a flash of so much dread you swore you were frozen stiff and unable to move. Terry Silver was a tough nut to crack. There was always insinuation of some sort of maliciousness and malpractice behind the corner, somewhere, out of reach, but never any concrete evidence and like a string pulled away before you could grab onto its end, you were always further and further away from discovering any actual dirt on the man. Not even continuous and meticulous Google searches yielded anything on him. It's like everything was scrubbed and his name was perfectly pristine. He was someone who was frighteningly clean where his reputation was concerned. Larusso’s firm sent you in to scoop out the place, but you couldn’t even find something as stereotypical as mistreatment of staff which was the go-to scandal with these big, rich guys. Making inappropriate passes at the maid. Being prejudiced towards the racial background of his chauffeur, for example. Not even that much. Terry Silver treated his employees surprisingly well and even amicably. Better than anyone you’ve ever seen so far. You gulp hard once you catch him stepping even closer; the grace of a panther.

You needed a defense for yourself. A way out. A lie. Anything.

Somehow to rationalize why you were going through his stuff like this.

But, it was all blank. Blank. Blank.

You felt faint. Sick.

-"Not to mention, I singled that one out for you and I caught you red handed like I knew I would. Fingers deep in the jam. You really think someone’s stupid enough to keep damning things where anyone can just waltz in and take them and waltz back out like it’s an episode of Looney Tunes?"-

He shakes his head, snapping his fingers jokingly, chuckling into his own chin, but you could tell the smile never reached his eyes; something sharp and dangerous behind them, sticking out like needles. He was angry. Validly, he had every right to be. Except, you never planned on getting caught or having to face his ire. You hoped you’d be far away by now. Far from him. He wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place. His dojo office should’ve been closed. The whole gym compound should’ve been. Classes dismissed until two days from now. The whole weekend ahead. The very fact he was here was unpredictable. Unexpected. You could’ve swore you came to understand his schedules by now. His comings and his goings. You could’ve swore there wasn’t any mistake in your observations. You could’ve! -"Terry, I —"- You stutter, unsure how to finish your own sentence, standing there in limbo, trying to catch his bluff around the fact that you recovered evidence he planted for you to find, feeling your knees shake with indignity. If you had a secret you wanted to hide real badly, you supposed…well, you supposed you’d hide it as well as possible too. Never somewhere where someone else could see it. Take it. But, you were desperate. So desperate. For anything. Any clue. Any bit of anything. Any straw to grasp at. That you were willing to take anything at this point and run with it, even risk being seen by the cameras riddled all over the dojo, because, to hell with it — you didn’t plan on returning to this place, this city or this side of the country ever again. You needed anything, if it meant it could make the slightest bit of difference. You never did this before. That’s why Daniel Larusso picked you. The less you had to hide, the more innocent and seemingly inexperienced of any wrongdoing, bad intentions or foul play you were, the more convincing your act would be. But, it was an act. All an act. And at this point, Terry’s face to face with you, only the desk’s surface separating you like a wall, his finger eagerly tapping its polished finish like a tickling time bomb. -"Make an excuse. Go ahead. I really wanna hear it."- His shark-like teeth on display, you decide to tell the truth. At least a fragment of it, certain he already knew what he knew.

-"I was sent here."-

-"I know you were."-

Terry chides with an almost impossible ease that nonetheless sends shivers down your spine.

-"How does it feel that your supposed friends pushed you into the lion’s den alone with no backup, huh?"-

He shrugs, visibly taunting and the pit in your stomach only deepens, hollow, entirely empty.

-"Some friends."-

He adds, tilting his head to the side once he caught your eyes scrutinizing the nearby windows.

Assessing whether you should jump out through them or not.

Life wasn’t a movie. You knew you’d end up scared, broken bones, bruised and all.

And he knew that much too, something knowing twinkling deep inside of his eyes, almost daring you.

You feel the hand grasping at the folder growing limp, suddenly hopeless.

-"Larusso’s shacked up with his family and his guest from Okinawa is enjoying his Californian vacation while you’re here risking your life for them, without anything to gain from it and everything to lose."-

Terry purses his lips, self-content and positively dripping venom and you look away from him.

The embarrassment weighing down on you like an anvil.

Suddenly, you felt a burning, overwhelming sensation you didn’t feel a moment ago.

You felt dirty. Somehow used. Disposable. A useful fool.

-"Did they at least pay you?"-

-"It’s not about money."-

You rush back in with a hasty retort, stumbling over your own words, vigorously shaking your head.

You needed to maintain at least the illusion of dignity.

Integrity.

Fact was, you never paid a dime and you never wanted to be paid a dime.

Terry snorts crudely. Like he's just about heard the funniest joke in the World.

-"What is it about then?"-

His thighs move slowly, doing a smooth turn, finger still maintained firmly planted on the center of the desk, like the needle of a compass, the bejeweled ring on it in the limelight of your vision. What was it about? Did you have a clear cut answer? Except peer pressure? Feeling talked into it? Both directly and indirectly guilted into doing all of this? Thinking you were doing a good deed? That this was as easy as getting in and getting out?

-"Playing vigilante?"-

He drawls with a voice challengingly laced and no — that wasn’t it.

-"Truth, justice and the American way?"-

No.

-"The honor of rummaging inside of someone’s desk drawers?"-

No, no. You wanted to sob out. Inching further into the side of the wall.

Hoping to disappear.

Hoping he’d stop advancing forward and cornering you in.

Your body reacting violently, overtaking by a sudden shiver of sheer terror.

-"The possibility of Danny-boy and his pretty wife inviting you to a country club cookout and giving you a car discount one day if you ingratiate yourself to them hard enough?"-

His tone was oozing venom and sarcasm and you understood what he was trying to do; he was trying to humiliate your efforts and cheapen their worth, and worst of all, it was working like a charm, an unexpected flash of jealousy jabbing at your heart at the notion Terry would call any other woman pretty, no matter how pretty she actually was. Were you envious? This wasn’t the time to be envious. This was the time to be scared shitless. Your fingers stiffen and the folder you thought would make such a vast difference slips out of your hand and onto the floor beside your quivering feet, landing somewhere underneath the desk. At that point, you felt your vision blur and tears unwittingly flood your eyesight, flowing down the edge of your cheeks. The look Terry gives you seems oddly tender then, through the haze. Somehow fatherly. Like he was genuinely trying to understand how you scraped your knee due to your own negligence. You felt like a lost child. Vulnerable. Jittery. Wordlessly pleading forgiveness. -"What?"- He asks again, words barely above a whisper and you shrug through shivering sobs, ineptly, having no response for him as his eyes searched your face even as you tried to look at everything but directly at him regardless of the fact he was inches away, bending forward, towards you, to catch your gaze by force. Ultimately, his finger props itself underneath your chin, hoisting your stare towards him. -"Betraying someone who wined you, dined you, let you inside of his home, fucked you in his own bed — is that it?"- A seductive sheen flashes over his face and his wrinkles and you try to scoot away, as far as the wall and the desk allowed you to go from the way he beamed at you, the statement making you feel lower than ever before. This was a relationship and you trampled over it. You shattered his trust. That was the point right from the get go. Didn’t make it feel any less difficult, though. Suddenly, what the dread in your gut has been anticipating all along happens and he reaches forward, grabbing your hair, fingers tangling in the strands and dragging you forward towards him with all the violence contained in his eyes.

You yelp.

You knew everything so far was merely the calm before the storm and you were partially paralyzed, too afraid to move lest you trigger it into motion prematurely.

-"You broke the basic rules of hospitality! The two F’s! Fidelity towards your host’s privacy and enough formality not to crap all over their belongings!"-

Terry’s jaw tightens dangerously and he practically spits his words as you squint your eyes shut, desperately — as more of a feeble, last-resort self-defense mechanism rather than anything else — not daring to look at his expression up close in that moment, your own arm reaching forward and digging its nails into his skin by instinct, trying to alleviate whatever pressure he was placing there, hopefully avoiding your scalp getting ripped out of its roots, your lids only bolting open by accident, once you felt the rough, course texture of a wet, hot something dragged along the surface of your cheek followed by a gush of searing breath and the scent of saliva only to realize Terry was licking away your tears, angry chuckles lining the rhythm of what he was saying. -"What you get is the third, decisive F; the fatality of thinking I should be screwed around with."- He hisses and you spot the edge of uncharacteristic desperation in him, eyes appearing bloodshot, cold, wild, enraged and there and then — you’re dragged by the hair, stumbling behind him in wide strides on the corridor outside of his study, groaning at the sudden onslaught of pain. You knew then, the only reason he was telling you all of this was so you’d understand how profoundly you fucked up. So he’d relish your fear. Your pain. Your terror. Your stare bolts up. The cameras were off. The red blinking dot on the side of the device nowhere to be seen anymore. That could’ve easily meant that the exists have long since been shut off. The entrances. The gates. The whole dojo estate under lockdown. Security undoubtedly on the gates. There was no way in. No way out. You were effectively trapped, hauled forward towards your own doom, hyperventilating, digging in your feet against the sleek black tiles, hoping it’ll slow him down, only for Terry to yank your hair forward even harder, until you cried out and your voice echoed across the empty hallway, going entirely unheard. Deep down, you knew what he said was correct; you were risking your life out here while everyone else was safe and sound. The Larusso’s were probably having a meal by now, judging by the hour, Chozen Toguchi in tow, gathered together in the family dinning room over some homemade Lasagna. You could see them all so clearly it made you ache. How none of them were here now to save you, but even if they were, could they really?

Would they?

-"You know what happened to John Kreese!?"-

Terry simmers, looking ahead, sauntering down the foyer, pulling you along.

You knew, of course you knew. You didn’t walk into this situation entirely ignorant.

The fact that topic was brought up now only served to push the fear of God into your very bones.

-"And I knew that man for half a century!"-

Terry yells, so suddenly, it practically makes you jump even while restrained like this.

-"Loved that man for half a century!"-

He continues, wrathful, burning eyes fixated straight ahead in determination as he marched.

-"Owed my life to him for half a century! Longer than you've been alive!"-

There’s a growl of finality when he finally reaches a large, dark door, enraged as he pulled the metal knob, practically shoving you inside and all you’re met with is darkness. Somehow, momentarily, it’s more welcoming than the artificial sharp halogen lights of the dojo or his twisted sneer; it’s a short lived mercy as the neon pipes overhead flicker up and you hear the thud of a door closing somewhere in the pitch blackness, all sound losing its echo. Once the sound padded abyss clears, Terry stands in front of a sealed entrance of an otherwise empty chamber, sauntering forward like an Eldritch horror, all long limbs clad in black and an an icy sneer. His index finger pointing at you. Accusing vigorously. A single strand of hair falling loose from his ponytail, settling disheveled on his forehead. -"If I did what I did to him, what do you think I’ll do to some six month long two-bit trick!?"- He growls, appearing genuinely disgusted and you fold your hands over your chest. That hurt. That really hurt. So much so you could feel it vibrating inside of you, even though you felt you shouldn’t have been surprised. Those words. You did this because…well…because you were judged, in actuality. The pressure of you being with someone so much older. The criticism. The looks. The fact you knew you were talked about and that you couldn’t help but be bothered everyone viewed your association with Silver as a negative; something to be commented upon. Amanda Larusso asking what you had to gain out of the arrangement like you were someone who’s company was paid for. Like you were no better than a rich man's whore. The guilt you felt over it. The anger at yourself that you were viewed this way even though your connection wasn’t monetary. That you weren’t seen as an equal and probably never would be. You rushed to prove yourself. To prove your substance to people who had no right to demand you prove a thing, only to end up being encouraged to do something you shouldn’t have done and make an enemy out of someone you knew very well was powerful enough to destroy you. You sink to your knees in desperation. You had no way to take any of it back and fuck knows what he was going to do to you now because of it. You cry out, utterly crestfallen. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, self-sabotaging, overly complicated, insecure idiot. That’s what you were. -"Please! No!" - Was there ever going to be any mercy given, though? He had no mercy. Not towards enemies. He had no mercy towards friends either according to his own story. Not when he was crossed. And you did more than just cross him, you knew. You shat over months spent together so you could get the approval of individuals you were certain didn’t even like you all that much.

Least of all, Terry himself.

-"Now, here’s the agenda; you’re never leaving this place."-

He approaches, towering over you and you scoot back, hugging your knees to your chest defensively.

The one feeble wall between you and him.

His eyes pink and red. Why did it look like he was on the verge of tears himself?

You’re too stunned to speak.

Did...did this whole thing hurt him too? Emotionally, that is?

The heartbreak type of hurt?

You wanted to cry out for him. Instead of him.

-"Of course they’ll come looking for you, your supposed friends, but not because they give a crap about you. They’ll try to use your disappearance as a proof against me, but it’ll only end up biting them in the ass."-

He chuckles coldly, his jaw shaking as he spoke, looking down at you, practically shivering with wrath. He somehow seemed just as upset as you were, if not more, yet simultaneously sharp and unyielding enough to split atoms. -"If they say it’s suspicious that you entered my property and never left, I’ll simply ask how they know the whereabouts of my estate and social circle in the first place."- He makes yet another step towards you, until his legs loom above you, like an archway, causing you scoot even further into the vast emptiness of what seemed like the entrance of a pristine, minimalist cellar. Clean. Antiseptic. Windowless. No way out but in front of you, barred by his body, undoubtedly automatically locked. Terry Silver, always a proponent of the state of the art high tech. -"If they keep pushing it, they’ll just give themselves away and eventually open their mouths about the fact they’ve sent you here deliberately to endanger my privacy, that’ll only serve as proof of illegal entry and the conspiracy to spy."- He gives you a sudden grin, self-content, smug, but still reeling with rage. You were certain that however this situation was twisted and turned, he’d come out on top and that you screwed up, royally, ironically, risking the most and paying the steepest price for it. You were lucky if he didn’t kill you here and now, and God, all things considered, it would’ve been piety in the vastly creative line-up all the things you knew he was capable of and yet had no direct proof of. He cocks his head to the side, his mouth appearing fleshier than ever, hungry, oddly snake like, curved upwards. -"And you know what we used to do to spies during the war?"- He inquires, practically purring and you want to beg. You want to beg so badly. Just kill me, you desired to plead. Just kill me and collect your moral payback and revenge that way, but please, please, please, don’t martyr me.

-"They were making fun of me, Terry, please, understand."-

The truth suddenly slips out, unbidden, ugly, raw, uncomfortable and vulnerable.

And those words are gone, set loose, escaping across the threshold of your mouth before you can push them back inside and swallow them whole.

You liked Terry, but didn’t feel comfortable being viewed as merely someone’s arm candy. As someone’s attractive sidepiece. As someone sponsored by a man decades your senior. Correction being; it never crossed your mind to be genuinely bothered by anything until someone else pointed it out and the seed they planted germinated until you found yourself revolting, ready to do something truly suicidal purely so you’d be seen as more than what you were assigned from the point of view of others. It was revolting, really; agreeing to spy on the man you were seeing just on the off chance you’d be considered more than an expensive kept woman. A sugar baby. Now, here you were, thrown down on the basement floor, hugging your own torso for comfort and digging your teeth into your lower lip, looking up at him with the most apologetic look you could muster. Forgive me, it was meant to say. The stare you get back from him is harrowing. His fingers reach forward, grasping at both sides of your cheeks, pressing down on the tender flesh there, mushing your face beneath his thumbs until your lips pop, forcibly puckered. -"And you wimped out and collapsed under the slightest bit of peer pressure from people who aren’t even your peers."- He squeezes your face, gloating, hindering your ability to speak properly without muttering, humiliation burning through you like a searing haze. He was right. He was so right about everything, albeit, a little too content compared to his ire from a moment ago. Like he actually rather relished the development of this situation now that impressions finally settled in. You weren’t certain if you preferred him angry in this context, or seemingly happy. You weren’t certain what daunted you more, even more so when his index and middle finger pushed past your lips, grabbing the tip of your tongue, pulling at it with a pillar of saliva trickling down your chin as you groaned in pain, your neck moving forward, following the route he was dragging you towards. This was pure sadism for sadism’ sake. Nothing more. You eyes dart down, catching his other free hand tinkering with the buckle of his belt, the metallic clamor of the sound ringing out like the bells of doom.

Somewhere in the back of your head, fear and desire clash.

-"Well, down here, nobody’s gonna see. Nobody’s gonna know. Nobody makes the rules of convention but me. And I can have you all to myself."-

Terry’s brow shoots up, seeming self content. Triumphant.

His fingers digging into the tent in his trousers and his fist squeezing around the hard cock he pulled out his pants, facing you, thighs spread and zipper down. What was he going to do? Was he just going to keep you down here? For how long!? Was it so he could just abuse your flesh in retaliation for what he caught you doing? Make you disappear that way? Ensure you’re never seen, never heard from again? Panic settles in slowly, way too slowly, torturously so, washing over you like an arctic breeze from afar. Your first instinct was to call for help, but you knew then, help wouldn’t come. There was nobody to help you. He beams down on you, gleefully, almost like he could read the train of your thoughts once your fingers hooked themselves into the antiseptic, minimalistic black wall-to-wall carpet beneath you, hooking your nails into the threads, bracing yourself.

-"You were afraid of being seen as a mindless whore, but if the shoe fits —"-

He coos, cocking his head, bringing his tip to the precipice of your mouth.

Pushing.

Not asking whether you wanted to receive it.

-"Then it’s best to wear it."-

He adds, almost purring, eyes burning into you as your lips part, causing you to groan, embarrassed.

Saliva, right there, on your tongue, hot, anguished, ready to trickle down your chin.

He was going to fuck you, and fuck you and fuck you, but you knew, even know —

Beforehand, there would be degradation. There would be humiliation.

Discipline.

-"Only lubrication you’ll get, so make it count. There will be pain."-

He warns, once he catches your hesitation in making his cock wet, kneeling on the rug, paralyzed.

And yes, the pain. How could you forget the pain.

Perhaps, if you bit down on his dick now it would make him so infuriated he’d just finish you off on the spot.

You consider it.

You’re not sure what stops you. Perhaps it’s what he uttered then.

-"But, you’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?"-

He taunts, tilting his face to the side and the deep abiding shame burns its way into your skull, settling down there, like a plague. -"Yes."- You muster. You felt you deserved this. Deserved it for getting caught so stupidly. Deserved it for not being confident enough. Faltering under other's people judgement. For being bothered with they thought and said about you. For betraying someone in the hopes you'd impress someone else. For thinking that if you backstab Terry Silver, you'd be respected more by some vague margin, when truthfully, could a traitor ever really be respected even if it's an objectively bad person they're doing it to? Did you really think Amanda and Daniel would pat you on the back and be your friends and sleep soundly with you around and never think that if you could do this to the man you were dating, you'd never do it to them in some other shape, way or form? A tear slides down your cheeks. You did this all for nothing. Terry grabs your jaw to get your attention. -"I can’t hear you! Louder! With conviction!"- He seethes, holding his length in his hand, practically slapping you with it, the precum leaking from his tip leaving a wet patch on your cheeks intermingled with your tears. -"Yes, I am!"- You huff, squeezing your eyes shut. It was too embarrassing. Too embarrassing. Too embarrassing. -"You’re a what!? Extended sentences!"- He demands, the subjective impression given that his nails were digging holes into the sides of your face with the ferocity of his grip on you. You were certain the bruises would show, in so many patterns. You shriek. -"I’m a glutton for punishment!"- The words come out, peddled forward by pain. -"And are you anything more than my robot!? Mind, body and soul!?"- He asks, verbally tenderizing the most hidden, sensitive part of you. The part of you that led you to do all of this in the first place. The want to be independent. Strong. Someone with agency. More than just eye candy. Someone's lover. Someone's company. You cared for him, you did, but you needed to be a little more than that. If you wanted to stay sane, it was a requirement. -"It’s too much. That’s too much. Don’t."- You plead, desperately shaking your head as far as his fingers holding you allowed you and then he gives you that stare. That unblinking, cold stare. Devoid of all light. All warmth. All understanding. You falter, like you always did.

-"I’m no more than your robot."-

You capitulate, wantonly, willingly and it was disgusting.

Disgusting how liberatingly it instantly felt.

To acknowledge you were his.

His lover, his whore, his hole, his heart, his everything.

You weren't cut out to be a spy. One for subterfuge. Double crossing. Relaying secrets to a third party. You were cut out to be the warm, soft someone he returns to and that was it. A boudoir kitten. Soft satin beds. His embrace. Made for his lips and his lips alone. You gulp as the realization settles in as hard and as heavy as a rock, both punishing with shame and freeing you of all bonds. You were fighting against the certainty of the incoming tide when there was no point so fiercely combating your own nature. -"Mind, body and soul, Terry."- You asses, gulping hard, practically hiccupping with an onslaught of raggedy breathing. Whore, whore, whore, your subconsciousness struggles. You're a whore, it calls out. -"The correct title’s sir."- Terry reminds casually, letting your jaw go, causing you to goddamn nearly tumble back, sprawled across the carpet. Your hand instantly takes to massaging the sore his grip left behind. He advances, cock in hand. Fear and desire clash. -"Sir. Please."- You drawl once he's close enough to smell; all salt and heavy musk. -"Say 'Aah'"- He teases and you do something on instinct, because every atom of willpower in you spasms at once from conflicting sides, hot and cold meeting, bidding you to obey; you open your mouth and your tongue unfurls, receiving his cock, your gut saying yes and every bit of logic and sense still present in your brain telling you no, tears streaming and dripping down your face unbidden, almost like they were mourning you and the fact how much you ached right now. How dubious and messed up this all was, yet how much you were here, on the floor, kneeling and sucking dick like everything you so fiercely avoided being seen as. Terry didn't seem to mind your reaction one bit, though. In fact, he encouraged it. God, if Amanda could see you now. If Daniel could. If Chozen could. How disappointed they'd be? They'd all nod in unison and probably think to themselves they were fools to ever believe you could amount to anything more. But, did you want to, though? That was the question? Did you want to be anything more than Terry's? Did you really? -"Go ahead. Cry."- He coos, patting your head with a sense of encouragement that has you longing, his voice emanating a deep rumble once he's inside of you and you moan on instinct, letting him settle around your lips. Funny that. How you were fighting this so hard just a moment ago.

Well, at least one part of you still was, soldiering on.

Holding unto sanity by a thin, loose thread.

Eyes still hazy with crying.

-"It’s all junk anyway. Weakness purged. The type of bullshit that led you to crap over me the way you did! Playing at independence like a kid plays with a toy castle."-

His voice hits your ears like velvet.

With a filled, muffled mouth, you nod, opening your eyes.

Looking up at him.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sweetie.

His hand caresses your wet cheek as your head bobbed back and forth.

You groan into the gentleness of the contact.

-"We’ll have all the time in the world to train those tear ducts down here. Get rid of excess junk."-

Terry firmly believed weakness manifests itself through emotional reactions sometimes; crying, screaming, bleeding, sweating, pain, even cumming after sex. That this was the body's way of getting rid of things, by effectively self-cleaning --- a process that very well should've been embraced, if not encouraged. He told you this once and explained it elaborately over a candle-lit dinner and it remained embedded in your memory ever since --- and told you again now, smiling at you, like he was pleased by something unfathomable; you shiver, your imagination momentarily not being developed enough to even conceive of what'll happen to you down here. What are all the ways he'll seek to purge you, as he so delightfully put it. But, you supposed you were both far past being coy, and that you were in deep enough shit as it was, so when he pulls back, his length plopping out of your mouth with a moist popping sound, leaving a trickling droplet of spit to leak down your chin, almost like he predicting you'd ask, catching your breath, in a rare flash of bravado, you do just that.

-"What are you going to do to me!?"-

-"Turn you into meat."-

He explains with a blissed out chuckle. You freeze up in primordial dread.

Your cunt itching for him.

His hands lift you then, almost in a loving gesture. Loving. Yes, loving.

Causing you to slump against him once he grabs hold of your face.

Forcing you to look at him. Really look at him.

-"And then? I'm going to perfect you because you're mine to do with as I like."-

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #old man terry #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #amanda larusso #daniel larusso #chozen toguchi #tw; manhandling #tw; dubious consent #tw; all the warnings #tw; imprisonment

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