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k0mmari · 28 days ago

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SYSTEM! SHEN YUAN AU

Okay, look, I've head a System SY idea for a while now (in fact, some of the ideas for this were used when I was first planning out Locked & Loaded), but after seeing @/artsarasp's System!SQQ AU, the brainworms have been once again come alive and I just need to get this out into the world. This is a very bare bones idea that I (probably) won't actually write, so walk with me for a second! Also this is going to be a very, very long post.

In this idea, the System actually is an interdimensional organization that deal with creating new worlds based on stories and making sure these worlds continue working as intended and (eventually), sending transmigrators to worlds that need 'improvement' (this improvement being very subjectice depending on which worker is assigned which story).

In SY's case, he's just someone who usually works behing a screen, in the most exciting cases he gets to guide transmigrators around but most of the time he just makes sure the stories 'code' is running normally and nothing world-breaking is going on in the stories (like someone managing to find a hack to skip defining plot points, or activating God-Mode somehow). He's very happy with this arrangement, btw! He was never one to run around and his boss has warned him once or twice for apparently being 'way too harsh' on the few transmigrators he got to be a System for.

Unfortunately, one day he is assigned to 'manually inspect' a world because a certain co-worker of his (Shang Qinghua) had been sent down there to handle a glitch but had gone missing instead. When SY asks why was he being the one asked to do this (not that he doesn't care for his friend, but he REALLY isnt made for running around), his boss says SY is the only other one who is familiar enough with the world to not get lost.

So that's how he find out SQH had managed to get himself stuck on the world he created (as a joke even, he hadn't even expected that when he was messing around with the company's program he would actually be able to create a new world based on the shitty novel he'd written as a human). And of course, SQH only having one friend, subjected SY to the story.

SY grumbles and denies ever seeing anything about SQH's story (or liking it, even if his boss kindly points out they never mentioned SY liked it) but eventually he agrees; and that's how he finds himself being teletransported onto the world of PIDW, carrying a pair of Debugging Sheers he'd never thought he would have to hold (he calls them Big Scissors), with the mission of finding SQH and dealing with the glitch that was still somewhere in the world.

Though, when he goes to message his supervisor about the specifics (where he should go or what was the last known location of SQH), he finds out that his Personal System has apparently already been affected by the glitch ("ALREADY??") that he was realizing worked more like a virus. Fortunately some messages were still going through, and his supervisor notified him they couldn't send him directly to the location he needed to be, specially because the virus seemed to have fragmented and spread to various parts of the stories timeline. SY now has to jump around through time a few times and slowly cut doen the glitches caused by the virus.

Thus begins Shen Yuan's Great Narrative Haunting (in real time.).

Luckily, for him, the place he first appeared was already one of the spots the virus has infected the world, and it seems to be in a town not too far away from him, so with a quick activation of the 'Ghost Mode' function (avaiable for all System staff to make it easier when they have to manually fix something, making them invisible and untouchable), SY heads to the town.

The glitch actually doesnt take too long to find (it was a buggy tree clipping onto a nearby river, which only needs a snip of the Big Scissors to disappear from reality), but when SY and passing through the town to find some better signal for his Personal System so he can jump forward to the next stop, he sees a group of snickering kids leaving an alleyway. A bit curious, he passes by the alley and barely manages to see through the pouring rain and spot a trembling figure on the floor. Of course, PIDW was never meant to be a happy or forgiving world, so SY is not surprised at the idea that some kids were bullying a smaller kid, though it still makes him upset.

He kneels close to the child and turns off 'Ghost Mode', pulling out an umbrella from his inventory (yes, System staff ALSO get an inventory, no one wants to have to carry aroung those big ass scissors), covering him from the rain. The boy is shaking from the cold, and even if SY can't check the boy's identity (since his system is still buggy), he reasons the probability of him coming into contact with an important character is very small, and even if System staff aren't supposed to interact with characters, he limits himself to at least getting the boy out of the rain.

Luo Binghe later wakes in a bench underneath a small shop's roof, covered in a thick cloth, having no idea how he'd gotten there besides the vague dream (or memory?) of a strangely dressed person patting his hair and taking him into their arms. He notices the rain has stopped and he's perfectly dry. Shen Yuan, seeing the kid seems to be doing well, finally jumps to his next location.

It doesn't take long for SY to figure out where he is when he loads onto the next mission location, in fact, he's almost certain he'd recognize the bamboo forest and calm, almost dream-like atmosphere of Qing Jing Peak anywhere. Seeing there that Qing Jing even exists in the first place, he deduces Binghe is still not emperor, so this time he makes sure to not be seen by any characters. It also doesn't take for SY to find his next target, as a commotion behind him catches his attention.

And oh, if he isn't familiar with the scene. A few older looking disciples push around a smaller looking boy, while a girl insistently shouts for the leader of the older disciples to stop. SY barely managed to appreaciate how Luo Binghe looks so cute as a child before (who he assumes is) Ming Fan snatches rips an amulet out of Binghe's neck. It's quite the heartbreaking scene to watch live, poor Binghe fighting for the only remaining piece of his adoptive mother without even knowing he's destined to never see it again. SY's Personal System may be buggy but it's still functional enough to detect if SY has a direct impact on the main storyline, so SY is basically forced to stand still and watch.

Though, since he had a clear view of the whole scene, when Ming Fan throws the jade pendant into the forest, SY can perfectly follow the arch of the necklace and sees where it landed, which is when an idea pops into his head. Distantly hearing Luo Binghe and NYY frantically searching for a necklace they'll never find, SY spots where the fake jade glimmers high up on a tree brench, though it's glimmer is distorted by the distinct sight of a glitch corrupting it's form. If SY were to follow standard procedure, he'd just have to bring out his Sheers and snip the necklace out of existence, but looking at it... Would it be so bad if he debugged the necklace the longer way?

Besides, if Binghe has the necklace or not, it's not like this one item is going to interfere with the major story anyways. SY isn't stopping Binghe from falling into the Abyss, he's just... Returning a lost item to it's intended owner.

Later, after an exhausting afternoon of what seemed to be searching through every nook and cranny of Qing Jing Peak's surrounding forest, Luo Binghe goes back to the shed he sleeps in utterly defeat and feeling strangely hollow; that is, until he opens the door and finds a new, thick blanket neatly folded in the middle of the shed, way too clean to be anything he had previously owned, and atop of it, his precious jade pendent, sitting there as if it never even dissapeared. Luo Binghe distantly notices that nobody that visits the shed ever lets the door closed after they visit.

The third location SY goes to leaves him no time to acclimatize, as he's immediately attacked by a beast, and only after (struggling to) kill it, does SY notice the unfortunate situation he was placed into: the Immortal Alliance Conference. By this point, he's already figured out his Personal System is most likely using Binghe's energy as Protagonist to make up for the energy it can't use due to it being partially corrupted, and the energy it needs to save up so SY can go back to the System's head quarters, so it really wasn't a surprise that he would be sent to this specific plot point, but dammit can't he avoid having to be near the place where his favorite character is thrown into hell??

And, well, there's also the problem that a beast attacked him, which meant it saw him, which meant his Ghost Mode was also glitching out, and after fiddling around which a half functioning System interface, it seems that the presence of the virus here is stronger than the other places, though still not the biggest chunk. Truly, just the cherry on top of his situation that he'd have to scurry around and somehow manage to not bump into anyone.

As is his luck, as SY tries to head closer to where his System is signaling the glitch's presence, other monsters continue attacking him, which besides slowing him down a considerable amount, it also causes the risk of him being picked up by the people watching the Conference through the Spirit Eagles circling the area, which is the last thing he needs.

Eventually he goes to the closest spot he can to the glitch, but a snapping sound behind him sends him into full panic. A person stands behind him, which leaves SY wondering how he managed to miss someone sneaking up on him like this. "You seem to have dropped something." the person says, and SY eyes immediately fall to his body, scanning himself to what he might have lost, and his hand basically flies to his throat when he notices the tassle that is usually nestled there is missing. He quickly turns around, only to come face to face to the golden protagonist, mister Luo Binghe himself.

Binghe tries interrogating SY as to what he's doing, sneaking around the supposedly sealed off Conference grounds, and SY, in his panicked state (slightly fuelled by a fanboy-induced craze) tries to fumble for excuses, but only when Binghe finally understands that the feeling he gets when looking at this strange person is an undeniable sense of deja-vu and tries asking SY if they'd met before, a loud rumblind shakes the ground: the Abyss has opened.

SY feels even more panicked, cause what this means is eventually, not only will he be discovered by Luo Binghe (his supervisor is going to kill him), but he could possibly be discovered by Shen Qingqiu, of all people! He doesn't get too much time to think about his grand escape however, as a piercing shriek comes from the Abyss rift. Right, how could he forget about the Black Moon Rhinoceros Python? And-- Oh, of course! Of course the damn thing would be virus-infected object!

After teaming-up with Binghe, the both of them manage to subdue the monster long enough that SY managed to snip it, though while they both catch their breath, SY belatedly realizes he just helped Binghe fight with the monster he was supposed to fight. Alone! The monster who was supposed to break his demonic seal! And, like clockwork, he can distantly hear what can only be SQQ's hurried steps through the forest! FUCK!!

With no other option, and Binghe now wanting to continue his interrogation, SY hurriedly start to walk towards the Abyss rift, frantically giving Binghe tips about what he could do in the Abyss to have an easier time, though when he catches a glimpse of green robes between the trees, SY types something on a floating screen and jumps backwards, Binghe letting out a shocked scream. Unfortunately, the protagonist won't be able to do nothing about the seemingly insane and way too familiar man who just jumped into the Abyss, as a rustling sounds behind him, and he's met with a newly regenrated Black Moon Rhino.

SY feels horrible about spawning a new one after Binghe just finished fighting one, but the story must continue, and with his Personal System finally free from most of the virus corruption, SY leaves one last gift as an apology and warping away before hitting the Abyss' ground. Later, when Binghe wakes up at the bottom of the rift after being pushed by SQQ, the first thing he sees is a qiakun pouch, full of useful items and tiny note at the bottom that reads 'Sorry!'

Pt.2

#sorry for any typos its literally 1am #this became to huge doe omg #im so sorry i thought i would manage to keep it simple #who am i kidding #when have i ever managed to keep an AU simple #svsss #drabble #fanfic #shen yuan #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #luo bingge #bingqiu #bingyuan #binggeyuan #this is binggeyuan btw #digital art #komm's system au

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zara-renata · 2 months ago

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Control | ao3 | the Sylus series

Summary:

You are feeling a bit depressed after completing a mission that didn't go 100% the way you wanted. Mephisto, and then Sylus, pay you a visit to cheer you up.

Notes:

Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV, a little Sylus POV This is not actually strictly part of the Sylus series, but rather a bit of an interlude outside of the series I'm writing because it doesn't advance the plot and I don't know where I'd fit it in. I was having an awful day earlier this week and wrote this purely to make myself feel better. I hope it does the same for others. It doesn't contain all the same triggers as the series (but I'd still advise checking the CWs) and can be read as a standalone if you'd like. This story contains: sfw, pure self-indulgent hurt/comfort for overachievers who, despite doing their very best, still feel like they didn't do enough, fluff, banter, tender Sylus, clingy Sylus, still-bit-of-a-jerk-Sylus, CWs: grief, discussion of the realities of law enforcement and innocent civilian death as a result of criminal activity, violence typical of the game and Sylus's criminal tendencies, mention of slight depression and feelings of emptiness.

Here you are, again. It has been a long day, a long week, a long month. You’ve been called out almost every shift to counter an increased spurt of wanderer attacks, while also trying to execute a carefully orchestrated undercover mission to stem the tide of illegal modified protocore weapons that recently flooded the black market by arms smugglers.

No, not Sylus. He’s too clever to put himself on the Association’s radar for his arms dealing in a way that could result in a trap being set for him.

No, the idiots you were going after couldn’t hold a candle to Sylus.

But their activity resulted in civilians being caught in the crossfire, and you had spent the last month seeing firsthand the carnage left behind after a gang battle erupted on the outskirts of Linkon City. You forced yourself to look at the broken bodies and broken families of the people affected, boots crunching on shattered glass, trailing bloody footprints on the cracked tarmac of the street. You would not allow your… situationship with Sylus to blind you to the reality of what his line of work could do to people. People just trying to live their lives, make their rent, raise their children–to survive a life that’s already painful and short enough already, without people like the assholes you just finished bringing down tonight arming other assholes with weapons that no one should be able to access. Weapons designed with one purpose in mind: maximum damage, minimum finesse. Weapons designed as if collateral damage is a feature and not a bug.

You’re tired. Days like this have always happened to you, even before you became a Hunter. The lethargy seeping through your body, the disinterest in doing anything that normally makes you happy. You lie on your bed, staring blankly through your gauzy curtains, the autumn wind driving the intermittent raindrops against the glass of your window. Each one a crystalline jewel, splattering, liquid diamonds trailing down the pane like tears.

You have the evening stretching before you, and you want to enjoy it, you do. But you can’t seem to make yourself get up, as your mind drifts to the images you made yourself engrave in your brain. The least those people deserved was you to bear witness, and ensure that you never forget, since your work as a Hunter came too late to help them, in the end.

You turn your gaze away from the gloomy late afternoon, let it wander over the riot of plants hanging from your ceiling and along the shelving in your room. Life continues. Proof of it is right here in your bedroom, the plants turning carbon dioxide into oxygen for you to breathe with your healthy lungs. You’re fine. You’ll be fine.

Before, you might have dropped in on your grandmother, making her a meal and sharing it in quiet companionship. If Caleb weren’t on a flight mission, you might have asked him to go on a run or to the gym with you, worked off some of this jittery aggression on the mats or by pushing your lungs past their capacity in an effort to leave him laughing in your dust.

But they’re gone now, of course. Victims of the same type of assholes you took down today.

You should be reveling in the success of your mission, but all you can see is the still form of one victim in particular, a snapshot in your memory of their slender wrist, their half-opened hand, lying in the street amongst the glittering shards of glass and scorch marks on the asphalt.

This empty feeling will pass. You know that. You have enough life experience to understand that feelings like this, moods like this, ebb and flow like Rafayel’s tide. So what if it’s harder now, to pull yourself out of them when you find yourself drifting in this sorrowful sea, because your support network has been washed away? That doesn’t mean you’ll feel like this forever. Only that it might take a little longer to drag your tired body off the bed, to refill your empty tank and survive and maybe enjoy another day.

Suddenly, you hear a tapping. You turn your head back to the window. Mephisto is perched on the other side of the glass, gently pecking the pane. He tilts his head and regards you with one glittering red eye.

You haven’t seen Sylus for several weeks now, both of you busy with your respective occupations, and you, doubly busy with the undercover mission. He has sent photos, here and there–blurry pictures of a black cat, a flock of birds in flight against an evening sky, the setting sun’s rays the color of fire and blood. He has asked how you’re doing, and you’ve lied and said you’re fine. He sent you a photo of a glass of wine on a low table near a roaring fire. “You should be here,” he’d captioned it.

Despite all of your complicated feelings about who he is, who he was to you when you first met him, what he does to afford his huge open hearth fireplace and all the finest things in life, you wished you were there with him too.

But you weren’t, and you haven’t been for awhile now. Over the past few weeks, you’ve seen Mephisto in the trees, heard his grating call over the sounds of traffic. But he hasn’t approached you, until today. Normally you would play your typical cat and mouse game with him, or rather, crow and worm, and you’d grab your paintball gun and see how good your aim is as he flaps outside your window, or you’d lure him in with a treat and lock him in the bathroom and wait and see how long it takes Sylus to send Luke and Kieran to set him free. You like to think of it as enrichment activities for both the crow and his owner–you’re not going to make it easy for Sylus to stalk you. He might get bored, after all.

But you just don’t have it in you, today. You slip off the bed and pad to the window, throwing it open. Rain mists your face, drawing goosebumps up your bare arms. Mephisto watches you, and caws softly. You’d call it a coo, if it wasn’t such a horrible sound. Much like his owner’s attempt at a lullaby. You back away, slip back onto the bed. If he’d like to come in, he’s welcome.

You return to staring at your bedroom walls. After a while, you hear the flapping of wings, and suddenly Mephisto lands next to you on the duvet. He shakes his mechanical feathers, and water droplets are flung onto the fabric and the mountain of pillows.

“Thanks, buddy,” you murmur, watching as he uses his beak to groom himself. It’s uncanny, sometimes, how alive-acting he is. Like a real bird. You’ve always wanted a pet. You know that Sylus insists that Mephisto is not a pet, but you really can’t see the difference. Mephisto clearly likes his owner, and does his job dutifully, and sometimes you think, with great pleasure. He drops little destroyed bits of surveillance hardware at Sylus’s feet on occasion, like a real crow bringing something shiny to a human who was previously kind to him.

Curiously, but without much expectation, you extend your hand to the bird. He hops backward, away from you, but remains on the bed. “May I pet you?” you ask.

He cocks his head, makes soft little chirruping noises in his mechanical throat. You let your hand fall to the duvet, palm up, and close your eyes. It’s nice to have company, in any case.

After a while, you feel him hopping again, and then something cold and smooth hesitantly nudges your palm. You open your eyes. Mephisto is gently pecking your palm. He nudges it, then bobs his head, observing you with his beautiful ruby eye.

“Is that a yes?” you ask. In response, he sits down, nestling into your duvet. You lift your hand, and he lets you run your fingertips along the top of his head and along the smooth, cool metal feathers along his back.

Every few minutes, he ruffles his feathers and readjusts his position, slowly inching his way closer to you on the bed. Finally, he is resting against your thigh, within easy reach of your hand, head tucked into one of his wings like he’s ready for a nap.

The open window lets the brisk, rainy autumn evening in, and the light slowly fades. Eventually, you manage to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

And this is how Sylus finds you, towards midnight. He lets himself in through your front door, using the fingerprint scanner he reprogrammed to accept his own as well as yours. He enjoyed seeing the look on your face, when you figured out that’s how he had gotten into your apartment without the key you had offered and he had refused. Your angry facial expression is worth more than all of his dragon’s hoard of wealth, in his trustworthy opinion.

He notes that the temperature in your apartment is surprisingly cool, even through the warm wool of his thick black coat. He had sent Mephisto to check on you, but he hasn’t managed to get an update since the bird was tapping at your window, sending back images to Sylus’s phone of you lying on the bed in your sleep clothes, awake, but not looking at your phone or watching your wall-screen, even though it hadn’t even been dinner time yet. He had told himself not to worry, that you were probably just tired after the past grueling month. But now he is worrying. He slides off his black monk strap shoes, and places them neatly along your entryway wall. Despite the faint worry edging up his spine, he takes the time to neatly line up your own hastily kicked off boots next to his, because he also worries that you’re going to trip and break your neck one of these days on all the shit you just leave scattered around on your floor, too exhausted to immediately tidy them up and put them away.

He makes his way through your dark apartment, picking up discarded clothing and folding them over his arm to put in your laundry basket, and quietly steps into your bedroom.

No wonder it’s cold in here–your window is wide open. It’s no longer raining, but the chill night air drifts into your bedroom and stirs the leaves of your indoor plants. You’re buried in your duvet, curled around an equally nestled Mephisto, who deigns to lift his head from where he had it tucked under his wings. He caws softly, as if to tell Sylus to be quiet and to not wake Sylus’s sweet little Hunter.

“This is dereliction of duty,” Sylus quietly scolds the bird, lifting the lid of your laundry basket next to your closet and neatly putting the clothes inside. He goes to the window and shuts it, and then draws the gauzy as well as the blackout curtains against the night outside. He returns to the living room, hangs up his coat, and brings a glass of water back to your bedroom.

He leans over the bed and pokes Mephisto. “You’re in my spot.” The bird puffs up his feathers a little in indignation and caws quietly.

“Nope, out. You’ve had your turn.” Sylus prods him again, and finally Mephisto ruffles his wings, hops to his feet, and flaps off to the living room, making disgruntled noises as he goes. Sylus sympathizes, but doesn’t feel guilty at all for dislodging him from your side. It’s Sylus’s turn now.

He slips out of his slacks, pulls his sweater and undershirt over his head, and slides under the blanket next to you. You sigh in your sleep, frowning a little, and Sylus runs his finger between your eyebrows, smoothing the furrow there. If he could, he’d reach into your dreams and crush anything that would cause such an expression on your face in his bare hands. Unfortunately, that’s not one of the perks of the aether core in his eye. He settles for plastering his body against your back and wrapping an arm around you, running his nose along your neck and inhaling the scent of your hair. The distance between Linkon City and the N109 zone is getting harder and harder for him to handle gracefully.

While you’ve been busy taking down the low level morons playing at being arms smugglers, Sylus has also been busy for the past few weeks, negotiating deals, consolidating his power, tightening his grip in his efforts to acquire a monopoly on the illegal protocore arms trade in both the N109 zone and Linkon City. He’s making progress, but his work is not yet done. He’s tired, and he has spent every day of the past month missing you. Now that he knows your latest mission is over, he intends to soak in your presence for as long as you’re available, before he has to head back out into the cold gloom without you again.

Sylus closes his eyes. Just for a moment. He’ll check in on some online auctions in a few minutes, review the stock market moves of the day and reconsider investments, but for just this moment, he’ll hold you in his arms, and warm your cold hands in his warm palms.

And that’s how you find yourself waking up in the early hours of the morning, a big warm body pressed against yours. You blink, note the time of two in the morning. You reach out and feel around, setting your bedside lamp to its dimmest setting so that you can see in the pitch-black room. You turn your head, and find Sylus’s sleeping face on the pillow next to yours, looking more peaceful than he ever appears when awake. The furrow between his brows is almost nonexistent, and his mouth is soft, plush lips parted a little. In this moment, you can imagine him as a little boy, angelic in sleep, mischievous while awake. Your heart hurts a little, imagining what kind of life that little boy had to endure to become the sleeping panther next to you tonight.

You turn fully, brush your nose against his, and then cuddle into him, head tucked into his neck. You breathe him in. He smells like warm, sleepy Sylus, a little sweaty under the duvet. You resist the urge to lick him.

“This is the best way to wake up from a nap,” his hoarse, sleep-filled voice vibrates through you.

You laugh softly. ��Good, because this is the only package we offer tonight. No refunds.”

“I wouldn’t dream of returning this experience.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

You both lie like that for a while, the sound of the wind outside and your combined quiet breathing the only sounds filtering through the room.

You had fallen asleep feeling empty, but waking up with this elusive man in your bed has you feeling sated. Refueled. Full. You sigh. How is it possible that a man who is responsible for the same things as those assholes you apprehended yesterday can make you feel like this? You remember that person lying in the street, eyes that will never see again, a parent who will never come home again. As if they were just sleeping. But as you stood over them, you knew better–your heart was the gravity well of a black hole, and you felt like you would fold in on yourself from the weight. If only you had been a little quicker, a little cleverer. If only you could disintegrate another human being like Sylus can, with just a gesture. You could have disappeared the assholes who were responsible for this person’s death, an entire life, someone’s baby at some point, brought into the world with love and effort and surviving each and every day, right up until the day you found yourself standing over them, as they lay broken in the street. And they died, for what? For some senseless, stupid feud over money? Turf? A feud they had absolutely nothing to do with. Fuck . You’re feeling sick again.

You burrow deeper into Sylus’s warmth.

“Speak,” Sylus says.

You pull back slightly and look up into his sleep-bleary face.

“Speak?”

“Are we a parrot tonight?” He smiles, eyes heavy-lidded.

“A parrot?”

“And a comedian, ladies and gentlemen,” he leans forward, nuzzles your nose with his.

“Don’t get too close, I probably have morning breath,” you murmur.

“Ah, so you can formulate your own thoughts.” He nuzzles the side of your mouth. “Do I look like a give a fuck if you have morning breath? I probably do too.”

“Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Then you yawn, widely.

He runs his hand down your side and pinches your hip. You yelp.

“Don’t change the subject,” he commands. “Tell me what’s on your mind. I can hear it racing from here–I’m pretty sure it’s what woke me up from my pleasant nap.”

“Oh, did I disturb his royal highness’s beauty sleep?”

“Yes, so you owe me. The compensation is telling me what had you staring into the void yesterday, and what made you sound so sad just now while enjoying being wrapped in my extraordinary arms. Many people would pay a lot to be in the position you’re in right now,” he says smugly.

“Yes, in order to slit your throat.”

He huffs. You note that he’s wrong; you’re probably the only one with morning breath. He somehow manages to just smell good. Toothpaste and mouth. You want to lick his teeth. “You’re probably not wrong.” He pauses. “Please talk to me. I’ve gotten used to hearing your worries. You can shut everyone else out, but I don’t like it when you shut me out too.”

You roll away from him, but his arm around you prevents you from going far. You glance at your windows, but the blackout curtains block even the city lights.

“I’ve just. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things over the past few weeks.”

“Uh oh. Nothing ever good comes from that,” he teases. You swat him in the chest. His body shakes with quiet laughter.

“Do you want to know or not?” you gripe.

“It’s not my fault that you didn’t make it clear that you won’t be accepting editorial commentary at this time. But I’ve learned my lesson. Continue.”

You throw your arm over your eyes and laugh. You can’t help it. Even when you’re feeling at your worst, this man manages to make you laugh. But you feel guilty for laughing, because the person you can’t get out of your head, this stranger who you were unable to save, will never laugh again. You hate it.

You sigh. “I’ve always struggled with the fact that my evol seems to have only a support function. Like, I often need a partner in order to be optimally effective in battle against wanderers, because otherwise it’s just me and whatever my physical talents are. Which, though amazing,” you sniff, “are often just, not enough when dealing with the kind of creatures that I often have to deal with.” You fall silent, imagining if you could set shit on fire like Rafayel without resorting to a flamethrower, or freezing a swathe of enemies all at once like Zayne. The battles you would wage would be epic.

“And I’m obviously competent at eliminating wanderers–I can usually arrive before the damage occurs. I can actually help people. And wanderers, they’re not like human perpetrators. They have no ill intent. They’re like animals, driven by instinct. Even when I do arrive too late, it feels more like a natural disaster than a malicious injustice. Of course, it’s still awful when someone dies for something so senseless, but that’s been the case for all of humanity’s history in the face of stronger predators.” Your mind races. You’re trying so hard to articulate what has been weighing on you. “But that’s only one part of my job. The other side of it, the side that involves going after humans with ill-intent, that’s a lot more complicated. So often, I arrive after the damage has already been done. I feel like the cleanup crew, completely useless to the normal people who just are trying to get through the day who get caught up in other peoples’ cruelty. It’s not like evil assholes announce their arrival with a metaflux fluctuation like wanderers do. I’m just.. too late, too often.” You try to imagine everything you’d do if you had Sylus’s power. You’d probably turn into a supervillain too, to be honest.

You fall quiet again. Sylus props his head on his hand and runs a finger along your clavicle with his free hand. You enjoy the feel of his calloused fingertip along your skin.

“And what else? I’m sensing there’s more to this story.”

You don’t want to hurt him. But you also don’t want to lie to him. “I just can’t reconcile the fact that I spent the last month tracking down the arms smugglers that I managed to catch yesterday, and I’d have gladly killed them if given half a chance. If I could snap my fingers like you, and just fucking annihilate them. But here I am, lying here in bed, with you.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the face as you say this.

You feel Sylus’s fingers begin to trail up your forearm and gently encircle your wrist, pulling your arm away from your eyes. You turn and look into his face.

“I’m certainly glad you’re not in bed with them now, sweetheart,” he says drily. “I don’t think there would be room for all of us, what with your army of plushies and my impressive physique.”

You groan.

“So let me get this straight. You’re upset because you feel like your skills aren’t sufficient to protect every single person who is in need of help. You’re upset that you can’t kill with a thought. And you’re upset because you would have killed these guys, who are in the same business as me, but you refuse to do the same to me?”

It sounds so simple, succinctly listed like that, for how heavy your heart feels. For the emptiness you felt, instead of triumph, after successfully protecting a lot of people over the last month, and getting a few more petty dealers off the street so they can't contribute to hurting anyone else in the future.

The bit about Sylus being the same as those criminals, without meeting their fate, on the other hand. That doesn’t sound simple at all.

You nod. “Instead of feeling like I did well, and taking the free time I have after I’ve completed a job to enjoy myself, or do something that makes me happy, all I can do is think about all the ways I failed, or how could have done it better, or how I’m still not doing everything I should be doing to help people. That’s why I was …staring at the void, as you put it. I couldn’t imagine one thing that I wanted to do with the free evening I had.”

Sylus pokes you in the forehead. “I knew you were arrogant, and greedy. I just never realized how much until this moment,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

You jerk back from his touch. “I pour my heart out to you, and you call me arrogant and greedy?” He lifts his eyebrows at your outburst. “The fuck, Sylus?”

“Quiet, or you’ll wake Mephisto.” He drapes an arm back over you and pulls you back into his warmth.

“Oh nooo, wouldn’t want to wake your mechanical murder bird,” you bite out, but quietly. You feel like you have a new understanding with Mephisto now that he let you pet him and you shared a nap with him. It’s not his fault that his owner is an insensitive asshole.

“No, we wouldn’t,” he agrees placidly. “Would you care to know why I am rightfully pointing out that your attitude about what you 'should' be capable of is arrogant and greedy? Or do you just want to stay upset about it for a little longer? I can wait.”

You scowl at him. “Oh, I’m happy to wait if you keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

You put your palm on his face and push him away. He rolls away with a soft laugh.

“Just tell me,” you grumble. “And then go home. I’m suddenly not feeling like company anymore.”

“Hmm,” he props himself back up on his hand. “You have an incredibly powerful aether core in your heart, one that is coveted by countless people.” He rests his other hand over your heart as he speaks. “You've recently increased its power by absorbing the power of another aether core. You can heal other evolvers, resonate with them to exponentially increase their power, and probably do a lot more than you’re aware of yet. You’ve probably not even scratched the surface of what it can do for you.”

You look away, but enjoy the press of his palm against you.

“You have extraordinary physical capabilities–I’m not just patronizing you when I said that I’d rather have you at my back than anyone else I know, even without your evol.” He reaches for your cheek, and gently tilts your head to look at him again. His wine-dark gaze drifts over your face. “And you’re not the only Hunter in the Association. If only one person were capable of doing your job, there would be no Association at all. You can’t expect to be one-hundred percent successful, one-hundred percent of the time. Not even I am greedy enough to feel like I should be able to have that kind of success rate. And I’m also not arrogant enough to expect that of myself. I can’t run Onychinus alone. I rely on many subordinates and competent people to take care of the business when my attention is elsewhere.” He looks at you pointedly, as if you’re the elsewhere slurping up all of his attention.

You blow a raspberry at him.

More quickly than you thought he could move, he snatches your tongue between his thumb and forefinger and gently wags it. His skin is salty. “Da thuck, Thylus?”

“Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want me to take it,” he wags it once more, as if to emphasize his point, and then lets go. “Next time I won’t give it back.”

You suppress the urge to just slobber all over his face in retaliation.

“So yes. I find the expectations you have for yourself to be arrogant and greedy, and entirely excessive. Do you think that your colleagues are failures, or haven't done enough, when they return from missions that went tits up, or when they failed to protect one hundred percent of those threatened?"

You scowl. Of course not. You know that they work their asses off to the best job they can. You'd never think less of them for having a bad day, or a bad mission. For people dying on their watch. But they're not you.

"Kitten, you’re doing your best, with everything you have in you. The world is cruel, and so are the people in it. You can’t control that. But you can control what you do about that cruelty. You're already fighting as hard as you can--too hard, if you want my valuable opinion."

"Trying as hard as I can with as much hardware and bodywork I can exploit. But it's just no the same as having your evol," you grumble. You might be slightly jealous of Sylus's power. Just slightly.

Sylus huffs, sounding a little impatient. "If it's not enough for you to be a walking grenade launcher, and you're frustrated that you can’t disintegrate those you want to eliminate with a snap of your fingers, just bring me with you. You can control me, and I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”

You just stare at him, mouth hanging open a little. He lifts his hand and chucks you under your chin with his thumb to close it. “Why so shocked?”

“Aside from the fact that you just offered to murder for me?” you ask, shaking your head a little.

“I already have murdered for you. I’d do a lot more than that, for you.” He pulls you into his side again and rests his head on your shoulder. “So don’t be too greedy. You're already very talented at what you do. You have control over the most powerful person in the N109 zone. The people you work to protect every single day are lucky that you are on the Association’s side, and not anyone else’s. You can’t save the entire world from injustice. But you can continue doing your best, with your already impressive skills, to protect as many people as you can. And if anyone tries to tell you that what you’re doing isn’t enough, you can send them to me. Including yourself. I will take care of them for you.”

You turn your head and rest your cheek in his silky hair. You breathe deeply and feel your heart settle in your chest. You notice that he hasn’t addressed the fact that he’s involved in the same business as the people you took down yesterday. But you don’t care. You know, somehow, in the calm beating of your heart, that he isn’t anything like them. He isn’t anything like them at all.

Your thoughts drift to a slender wrist, to an open palm. You will never forget this person. Hopefully you can honor them, in some small way, by continuing to force yourself to look, and not surrendering to the horror of it. You will keep going. Maybe next time, you'll arrive in time. You hope it is enough. And you'll also try to hear what Sylus is telling you. All you can give is your everything. No one can ask more of you than that, even if it's you who is asking.

As you continue rubbing your cheek in his hair like a cat, he speaks again. "And as for you not arresting me... or taking advantage of your position and slitting my throat." You freeze. You thought maybe you could just pretend you hadn't expressed this worry tonight. "Have you ever considered the possibility that, in order to treat an infection, it's not sufficient to just address the symptoms?"

For a second you feel like you can hear Zayne coming out of Sylus's mouth, and you're totally weirded out. "What do you mean?" you reluctantly ask.

"Sometimes, the only way to destroy a rotten core is to work from the inside out. It's not enough to desperately amputate the affected limbs. And that kind of work requires getting your hands dirty."

You feel like he just told you something very important. But you can also sense that he won't explain anything else tonight. This is the closest the two of you have ever gotten to actually discussing the substance of his work, and you're satisfied with that. The certainty you felt before, about him being utterly different than the others, settles deeper into your bones. You relax into him again.

“And your last worry. About not knowing what to do with yourself when you’ve completed something extraordinary, and find yourself with some free time on your hands… just call me. We can figure out what to do together.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything. If you do, you might start crying and not be able to stop. He is everything you needed tonight. You just press closer into him, hoping he can hear everything you can’t say out loud yet.

“So, still not feeling like company anymore?” Sylus asks, after you’ve sat in peaceful silence for a few moments. “Or am I allowed to stay?”

“Would you go even if I asked you to?” You reach up and run your fingers through his soft hair, and he makes a pleased noise deep in his throat.

“If I thought that was what you really wanted, sweetheart.”

And you believe him.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #lnds #lads #l&ds #love and deepspace fanfiction #my fanfic #please enjoy this soft sylus #the next actual plot part of the sylus series is written and waiting for gali's beta reading #i'm hoping to post it this weekend

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hyuckiefluff · 1 year ago

Text

Pretty Boy pt.2

pairing: na jaemin x f!reader genre: roommates to lovers word count: 4.2k content: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, marking (jaemin receiving), y/n is kinda bad at expressing her feelings lol, sweet jaemin :( a/n: *taps mic* hello? tysm for the support on part 1 of this story!! <33 i honestly didn’t think it would get so much love but as promised here’s part 2. it’s literally just smut lol but i hope it was worth the wait anyways.

part 1

As soon as you stepped into the room, Jaemin scooped you up, eliciting a loud squeal from you. You instinctively clung onto him as he effortlessly turned you around. Now that you were face to face, your legs wrapped around his torso, your heart would not calm down. He brushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen on your face, and that simple touch made your breath hitch in your throat.

"Are you really up for this? Cause once we start, I might not be able to stop," he whispered softly, his fingers finding their way to the back of your neck, drawing you closer. "I've been wanting to do this for so long, you have no idea."

It was as if he had plucked the words right out of your mind, and you couldn't help but slightly widen your eyes at his confession. He always seemed to possess a talent for articulating what you had been feeling but struggled to express. The truth was, you had indulged in countless fantasies about this very situation, even if you were hesitant to admit it.

Living with someone as attractive as Jaemin proved to be quite the challenge. In the first week after becoming roommates, you found yourself confined to the safety of your own room, too shy to venture out whenever he was around. It was kind of funny, considering that you had known each other for years, albeit without much interaction, despite being part of the same friend group. Your decision to room together was less about being close and more about the practicality of splitting the rent with someone. He happened to be the only one in your circle who needed a roommate, and that's how you ended up in this situation.

The only reason you let your guard down with him was because he turned out to be one needy guy, always craving company. And it became crystal clear that he wouldn’t let you be awkward around him when he burst into your room one day, demanding that you join him for a movie. "It feels like I live alone, and it sucks," he pouted, his need for attention catching you off guard. Still, you found his little tantrum adorable and you only became closer since that day.

As you got to know Jaemin better, you noticed that he had a naturally flirty personality. It seemed like he had an active dating life too, based on what you could gather. You wouldn't label him as a player, though you did witness him hooking up at a few parties you attended together. Still, he never brought anyone home. Your friends would insist that he treated you differently, but you didn't buy into that. Jaemin was just an affectionate person by nature, that's all. His touchy gestures had become so common that you didn't read too much into them. Whether it was him placing his hand on your waist as you walked side by side or playfully toying with your fingers when he was bored you knew it was simply his way of showing comfort and familiarity with you.

You understood him better than anyone else. There was no hidden meaning behind those gestures—it was simply his way of expressing affection in his own Jaemin-esque style.

"I... I wanted this too," you confessed, taking a deep breath. "A lot, actually."

A gorgeous smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. You couldn't help but smile back before leaning in and kissing him. The kiss was sweet and slow, as if you wanted to savor every second.

As soon as your hands found their way to Jaemin's head, you tangled your fingers in his hair and gave it a gentle pull. A satisfied moan escaped his lips, letting you know he enjoyed that. He led you towards the bed and gently placed you down on the mattress. It struck you that you were in his room, and for some reason, that made you a little jittery. You couldn't recall ever seeing him sneak anyone into his bedroom before, so you wondered if you were the first to do this with him in his own bed.

But the sight in front of you snapped you back to reality. Jaemin was taking off his shirt, revealing a jaw-dropping view of his torso. Sure, you had seen him shirtless in the past, but you'd never really taken the time to truly look at him. His abs were chiseled, and his chest... Well, let's just say it was firm and big. If your face wasn't already burning from the intense kissing, it would have turned an even deeper shade of crimson.

Jaemin clearly found your staring amusing because he shot you a playful smile before closing the distance between your bodies. He positioned himself on top of you, supporting his weight with his arms. His half-nakedness was a big distraction, making it harder for you to maintain eye contact.

"It's not fair that you get to ogle me while you're still fully clothed," he quipped, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. When your eyes met, he had this exaggerated mischievous smile that made you giggle and eased some of your nerves.

Jaemin had never seen you with so little clothing on, which made you hesitate for a moment. Still, you mustered up the courage and boldly grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. No bra, because who bothered with that at home, right? The look on Jaemin's face when he saw you was absolutely priceless. It was as if he couldn't decide which expression to settle on. His gaze fixated on your chest, a mix of curiosity and adoration in his eyes. He nibbled his lip before locking eyes with you.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he blurted out, followed by a dry chuckle. "It’s unbelievable." With those words hanging in the air, he leaned in to kiss you again. The sensation of your bare chests pressing together elicited equally desperate moans from both of you.

Before long, Jaemin started to peel off his sweats. But right before he could remove his boxers, a panicked expression flashed across his face. "Hold on a second," he muttered, scurrying over to one of his drawers and rummaging through it, tossing random stuff aside. After a minute or two of frantic searching, he paused and scratched his neck.

"No condoms?" you asked, finding the situation and his reaction a bit comical.

He turned to face you, his eyebrows furrowing, worried big eyes framed by his long, pretty eyelashes, and a slight pout forming on his lips. It was quite a sight, to be honest.

"I could have sworn I had some," he replied, sounding a bit defeated.

"Well, I guess we can't proceed then," you sighed dramatically, teasing him a little to see his reaction. In reality, you were on birth control and it had been months since you last had sex, plus you trusted that Jaemin was clean. You just wanted to see how he'd respond to the situation.

"I guess not," he mumbled, his mood deflating.

He looked utterly adorable in that moment, like a puppy who had been denied a treat. Unable to resist, you got up and pulled him down to your eye level, whispering something into his ear.

"How about you fuck me…raw?"

You heard the audible gulp that escaped his throat, and when you pulled back slightly to gauge his reaction, you wished you could take a picture of the look on his face. His eyes seemed ready to pop out of their sockets, and his mouth hung open, as if he was about to say something, but the words just wouldn't come out.

"W-What?" he stammered, clearly taken aback.

He never expected those words to come out of your pretty mouth.

"I'm on birth control, and I'm clean," you reassured him, trying your best not to burst into laughter as he visibly relaxed. "And you're clean too, right?"

He nodded frantically, and without wasting another moment, you pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was messier, more urgent, as you both stumbled backward and fell onto the bed, your lips still locked together.

All the teasing and anticipation had both of you on the edge, so you wasted no time stripping off the last bits of clothing. Jaemin's eyes were locked onto your body immediately. He let out a low curse under his breath, his gaze roaming freely over your figure, soaking in every curve and crevice. He couldn't believe his damn luck.

You also couldn't help but indulge in the sight before you. Mesmerized by how his arms flexed as he supported himself above you and how firm his chest felt under your eager hands. Every now and then, his collarbone would tease you too, sticking out just enough to dare you to leave your mark on it.

Jaemin's lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses that made your whole body shake with anticipation. He zeroed in on your breasts, showering them with kisses and playful nibbles, the attention causing your nipples to perk up. At the same time, his hand ventured south, heading straight for the heat between your thighs. When he discovered how wet you were already, a satisfied whimper escaped his lips. Without wasting a beat, he redirected his attention down there, temporarily forgetting about your breasts. With a slow and teasing motion, he slipped off your panties, revealing just how soaked and sticky they were from your arousal. The sight seemed to drive him wild. "Fuck, this is so hot," he breathed out, his voice brimming with desire.

You were on the verge of losing your damn mind with him being so close to your most sensitive spot but not touching it. The warmth of his breath down there was overwhelming, making you forget any self-consciousness. And when you felt his mouth planting kisses on your inner thigh, you were already so far gone you could have thrown all decorum away and begged for him to do something.

"I'm not stopping until all you can say is my name," he promised with a smirk, and without any further warning, he dove right in.

You moaned loudly, caught off guard yet incredibly grateful he was bringing sweet relief to the throbbing ache in your lower stomach. His mouth wasted no time getting cozy down there, switching between kisses, sucks, and licks that sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe it had been way too long since you'd had any action, or maybe he just knew exactly what he was doing, but fuck, you were already on the brink of your first orgasm.

It was crazy how quickly things escalated. A half hour ago you were just hanging out, trying to apply mascara on him, and now he was going down on you. Na Jaemin, the same guy who always drinks his coffee with enough shots to fuel a rocket, screams his balls off during scary movies and uses up your skincare products. That guy was now eating you out like a Michelin-star meal. Who would've guessed? You didn't want to ruin the moment by overthinking how this might change things between you, though. Not that you could even form a coherent thought, with his expert tongue doing magical things down there.

Finally, his eyes met yours, and you could see a glimmer of something animalistic in them. It should've freaked you out a little, but it only turned you on even more. Unable to resist, you grabbed onto his head and pushed him down, silently pleading for him to keep going. Your orgasm was so close, Jaemin knew it too from the way your legs were shaking and closing in on his head. Your hips started to move, grinding against his face like it was second nature. And the way he moaned and groaned against you told you that he loved it.

His tongue was insane, twirling and swirling with a mind of its own. Seriously, how the hell was he so good at this? Words stumbled out of your mouth incoherently as you tried to form a sentence amidst the overwhelming sensations.

"Don't... don't stop," you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desperation.

He took your plea to heart, intensifying his lapping and sucking. His grip tightened on your thighs, fingers digging deliciously into your flesh as he anchored himself to you. The combination of his insistent mouth and his tight grasp left you writhing and squirming, completely at his mercy. With each flick of his tongue, you felt yourself unraveling, teetering on the edge of an explosive orgasm. And then it hit you, a release that left you gasping for air. You recoiled ever so slightly from the overstimulation, but he didn't let up. His lips remained locked to your throbbing core, greedily savoring every last drop of your release, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

With one final kiss he finally moved away, a glistening trail of your essence still connecting you. The sight alone threatening to tip you over the edge once again. He licked his lips slowly, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He started crawling up towards you then.

"Has anyone..." he began, his voice low as he closed the distance between your faces, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, "told you..." his words trailed off, delivered with a deliberate slowness that was driving you crazy, "that you taste..." his face was now mere inches away from yours, his lips teasingly brushing against yours, "fucking delicious."

“Hm, really?” You let your hands wander, fingers tangling in his disheveled locks, pulling him closer.

"If you don't believe me," he whispered huskily, his lips hovering millimeters away from yours, "taste it for yourself."

He closed the remaining distance between your mouths. It was a moment of pure sensory overload, your taste mingling with his. Even though you had just cummed, you craved more of him. You needed him inside you, to fill you up and to bring him pleasure in return. So without wasting a second, you switched positions, the sudden change making him gasp in surprise. Now you were straddling him, your bare core brushed against his lower stomach and his dick pressed against your ass. The sight of your naked body on top of him was something he never thought would happen in real life, and he couldn't help but stare with his mouth hanging open. He instinctively placed his hands on your hips, caressing them gently and giving them a little squeeze, just to make sure this wasn't some crazy dream.

You whispered something in his ear, but he was so lost in the moment that he couldn't even make out the words. However, as soon as he saw you positioning his dick at your entrance, reality snapped back into focus, and his breath hitched in anticipation. He was barely inside you, just the tip, and he already felt like he was about to lose his mind. The way your brows furrowed and your plump lips parted as he stretched you out was incredibly hot, enough to make him almost cum right then and there. But he quickly shook himself out of the trance and firmly gripped your hips to help guide you down onto him.

"Fuck..." he gasped, his voice strained as he buried himself deep inside you.

He was wonderfully thick, stretching you in ways that demanded your body to adjust. You needed a moment to accommodate his size, to savor the delicious sensation of being filled so completely. He granted you the time you needed, showing an unexpected patience as if he, too, needed some time to adjust to the overwhelming tightness that enveloped him. The way you clamped around him now, it felt like an eternity since you had last been filled this good.

The pressure and friction threatened to push Jaemin right over the edge though, and the last thing he wanted was an embarrassing premature orgasm. So, thinking quickly, he flipped both of you over. He wanted nothing more than for you to ride him, but he also knew he had to set the pace to ensure he could last longer.

"Sorry, love, but you're squeezing me so damn tight in that position," he said, and you nodded in understanding. You didn’t really care about positions, all you wanted was for him to fuck you into oblivion.

And that he definitely did. Once he saw you were more comfortable, he started to move, slowly at first. It took a second to find a rhythm that felt good for both of you, but when he saw the way your face contorted in pleasure and how exquisitely tight you became around him, he knew he had found it.

“F-faster..” you moaned, and he obliged immediately.

He raised your leg a bit, resting it on his shoulder and planting a kiss on your thigh before moving. This new angle allowed him to penetrate even deeper, hitting all the right spots that had you moaning so pathetically loud. You couldn't help but thank your lucky stars that it was just the two of you in here, but at the same time, the thin walls made you hyper-aware of your own loudness. Guess it's time to eat your words about the noisy neighbors, huh?

Jaemin kissed you while keeping that delicious pace. He whispered both dirty and sweet words against your mouth as he rammed into you, his eyes only straying from your face to take in the sight of your bodies coming together. The room was filled with a symphony of sinful sounds that would make even the most hardened eardrums blush. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to care anymore if anyone heard. Not when Jaemin had taken it upon himself to make you feel so good. He held nothing back, unleashing a chorus of moans and whimpering that let you know just how much he was enjoying himself.

At that moment, you discovered that you really liked hearing a man become this desperate in bed. But what truly stoked your fire was knowing that you were the one responsible for reducing Jaemin to such a state. It was an ego boost like no other, sending your confidence soaring to new heights. Breaking away from the kiss, an idea took hold of you, and without warning, you swiftly flipped both of you over, seizing control.

The game for dominance was on again, and you were determined to prove just how good you could make Jaemin feel. His chest heaved, his eyes devouring the sight of you bouncing on his cock. He was utterly helpless, unable to control his expressions or the guttural groans that spilled from his lips. It was a side of him you never thought you’d ever see, his vulnerability laid bare as you pushed him to the brink of pleasure-induced tears. The intensity of the sensations made his head fall back, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as you squeezed around him deliciously.

Taking advantage of the opening, you set your sights on his neck, starting with wet kisses that gradually escalated to nibbles and gentle sucks. You quickly found his weak spot right below his ear. Every time your lips closed around that particular spot, his grip tightened on your hips, and his cock twitched inside you in response.

"Fuck... k-keep doing that," he managed to gasp out, his voice husky and strained from the exertion.

So you did, you kept sucking on all the spots that he liked and as you continued your ministrations he thrusted into you harder and more desperately edging you both closer to the release.

"I-I-m... c..." Your words trailed off into a jumble of incomprehensible sounds. The pleasure was too intense for coherent sentences to form.

"Jaemin..." The syllables of his name escaped your lips repeatedly, like a desperate mantra. This seemed to rile him up even more, prompting him to hold you tighter and unleash a frenzy of powerful thrusts that defied all restraint. He knew exactly how to hit that sweet spot, driving you crazy with each perfectly aimed thrust.

He adjusted his position, sitting up slightly to gain better control. This subtle shift allowed him to fuck deeper into you. "Jaemin, fu-—" You couldn't hold back, sinking your teeth into his shoulder and scratching at him. He was fucking you so hard into your second orgasm that you could no longer control your own body. The climax hit you with such force that it felt like a burst of stars behind your closed eyelids.

"Fuck!" he yelled and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he finally came undone, riding the waves of your orgasm until you were both spent. The intensity of the moment left you both so physically exhausted that all you could do was collapse against each other, breathless and sweaty.

You wish the post-nut clarity didn’t hit you as hard as it did , but as you mustered the courage to lift your face from Jaemin’s neck and meet his gaze, a flood of thoughts raced through your mind.

What the fuck are we now?

He seemed to grasp the unspoken thoughts that danced in your eyes, as he often did.

"Don't do that," he murmured, leaving a kiss on your nose.

"Do what?" you whispered back.

"Don't look at me as if something has changed between us," he replied, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"But something did change," you admitted weakly, your voice betraying your vulnerability.

"No, you're still you, and I'm still me. We just know each other a little more intimately now, and maybe that's for the best.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, not quite understanding. He sighed upon seeing your lost expression and decided to just let it all out.

“Yeah we had sex, and it was amazing and I so badly want to do this again I could cry but no matter what happens between us, I’m always gonna be your annoying roommate," he ruffled your hair softly.

You let out a contented sigh at his words, but doubt still lingered. "Don't you think it will be weird though?…Now that... you know," you trailed off, averting your gaze, feeling a sudden shyness.

"What? Now that you've seen what my dick looks like?" he said with a playful tone, making you laugh and gently slap his arm. "Sure, maybe you're a bit starstruck, but I promise you, it'll be fine.

"Can you be serious for a second?" you asked, rolling your eyes playfully, but he gently grabbed your chin, urging you to meet his gaze.

"I am serious. I don’t think it’ll be weird at all. I don’t know about you but I really, really enjoyed it," he confessed, his sincerity sent your heart racing, making it hard to ignore the depth of his feelings. "Y/N, I've liked you for a while now. I mean, everyone else could see it, right? I'm tired of pretending it's nothing or that I can just get over it. Living with you just makes it harder to ignore. You're the first thing on my mind in the morning and the last thing before I sleep. I'm sorry if this sounds rushed or random, but it's not just because of the amazing orgasm you just gave me. I've never been this serious about anything in my life, and you know me well enough to know I mean it." The words spilled out effortlessly, almost like he had rehearsed them (he totally did).

You didn't need to say a single word in response. The way you were looking at him with such genuine affection conveyed everything without the need for verbal confirmation. Jaemin was definitely the more expressive of the two when it came to feelings but he was always able to pick up on the subtle cues and actions that hinted at your affection. Despite your tough exterior and cutthroat attitude towards others, he noticed how you always softened in his presence. Your face would light up, that permanent frown vanishing, as soon as he acted silly or cracked a joke. And when it came to physical touch, he saw how guarded you were with everyone else, even your closest friends. Yet, you always welcomed his hugs and kisses freely, as if it was second nature. All these little signs had added up over time, painting a clear picture of your feelings, even if it was challenging for you to express them in words. Jaemin had picked up on those clues, cherishing each one as the evidence that confirmed what he had hoped for all along – that you liked him just as much as he liked you.

"Oh, and I meant it when I said I'd love to do it again," he added after a few seconds, trying to play it cool.

"Same here... and, uh, by the way, your mascara is all smudged," you blurted out, the realization making you both chuckle.

feedback is greatly appreciated! also feel free to send requests! i’ll try to post on here more often.

#nct x reader #jaemin moodboard #jaemin imagine #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x reader #na jaemin #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #jaemin drabbles #nct dream fic #nct dream scenario #nct smut #nct dream smut

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months ago

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Sleepover w/ the digital circus cast

been a while since ive written this style of post for tadc, but im on my computer again so hopefully writing so much wont be too grating! reminder that i do not currently take requests for the entire cast in one post-

notes: reader is gn, not really romantic, written with the idea that everyone is having a sleepover in the main area of the circus

cws: bugs

caine

does not sleep but he wants to feel included, hes the one providing the games and activities for the night, as well as bedding for everyone to use

pretends to sleep, probably totally incapable of sleeping unlike the circus members... fake snores to try to sell it and make it convincing but all it does is it keeps everyone else awake

the games mentioned are usually an exaggerated and insane version of them- truth or dare but if you lie or refuse a dare you were given you get locked in the cellar/j

oh he definitely would try to get some juicy conversation with you or another circus member- god forbid you show some small sign that youre crushing on someone, hes not going to leave you alone

even worse if he finds out you actually do and who it is

his version of spin the bottle might get a little insane, knowing him.. definitely rigs it lands on whoever you like

pomni

not very interested, but if this takes place post episode 2 shes more inclined to join everyone for the night to get to know everyone better

if you two have grown close she sticks with you during the insane games caine has set out

completely opts out of any games that look way too intense but she probably gets roped into it by some of the others- or simply being swept into the chaos

sleeps off to the corner a bit away from everyone else so she can at least try to get a good nights sleep

if SOMEONE (jax, or even caine) gets too overwhelming or annoying she just gets up and goes to her room... you might be able to coax her back out

ragatha

as mentioned in jax's section, she offers to let you lay next to her if jax is bothering you

if you ask her, she does your hair before you go to bed. brushing through it and if its long enough she ties/braids it up for you

if you have a sleep set- unlikely given that they cant take their clothes off but we can pretend caine snapped his fingers and changed everyones clothing or something- she compliments how it looks.. if its cute or if it looks comfortable

if youre still awake and open to it she talks to you quietly when she cant sleep, its actually a nice change of pace against the chaos of when everyone else was awake

you dont talk about much, you just check in on each other and ramble about nothing in specific... keep it down or caine will come on over and try to insert himself

jax

hes the reason the cw is here, hes going to put bugs in your blankets if you guys arent sharing his room. if the two of you are in your room, or if you guys are in the common area hes going to do it.. or put something else thats unpleasant there..

thinks its funny, knowing him he might actually laugh a little off to the side as you thrash your sleeping bag around

snack hoarder, especially if theres candy- good luck trying to get more than a handful from him, hes not much of a sharer

tries to play everything off when someone offers to let you come lay down next to them for the night- likely ragatha

tells the most grotequse and horrifying stories before everyone else goes to sleep

"first person game mcs dont blink" is said as everyone is trying to unwind or something along those lines

kinger

has the softest and comfiest pillows and blankets, from his fort of course! likely sleeps in it rather than out and exposed on the floor with everyone else

makes it a little larger so you can crawl inside with him- its a lot calmer in here than anything thats happening out there

small talk, you both talk about your interests though due to kingers nature the conversation bounces around a lot

he doesnt participate in the games for the most part, especially if its after a high energy adventure... hes a little drained after the day- physically and mentally

sleeps with at least an arms length of space between the two of you unless you tell him youre comfortable with him being closer

dad snores

zooble

not very interested, probably stays in their room for most of the night if not the entire night

if theyre around when jax is telling scary stories they just roll their eyes... theyve heard worse

zooble being a horror/disturbing media fan headcanon my beloved, they probably try to one up him... though theyre not taking it very seriously. theyre not all that interested in winning, but jax is and hes going to get annoying

if they go out and interact with everyone else, theyll go to their room when theyre ready to sleep. they dont want to sleep on the floor in some sleeping bag.. offers to walk you to your room if the horror talk got to you

gangle

sits in her own corner doing her own thing, you can convince her to join in on the more tame games if you promise to stick with her

sticks around with you after that but like... lingering to the side, not really glued to your side because she doesnt want to invade your personal space or make you feel uncomfortable

very quiet if you offer to let her lay down next to her in the night

its a little less awkward if her comedy mask isnt broken but knowing how fragile it is, its unlikely

refuses to participate in any games like 2 truths 1 lie or truth or dare- she just knows jax is going to hang whatever she says over her head even if hes not the one asking her questions

#tadc x reader #tadc x you #tadc imagine #the amazing digital circus x reader #the amazing digital circus x you #the amazing digital circus imagine #digital circus x reader #digital circus x you #digital circus imagine #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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rashomonss · 9 months ago

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A HUMANS WRATH

Part XV

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchila, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @food-lover9000, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @arcayia, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld, @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r, @chumbinhoeba, @chaos-n-kindness, @strawberryfire17, @zenxvii, @misscaller06, @luminarysol, @simpinginthecorner, @your-next-daydream, @bontensbabygirl, @crxwned-mxnarch, @ibtisam-aran, @mochicurls21, @rxsehxney, @xpixie, @ihatecorns, @hello-gloomy, @lunarloathsome, @crazytacokoala, @levia-chan, @bunny-masks-blog

a/n: hey y'all!! yay i finally updated haha….im so sorry it took so long if you’ve been keeping up with my other posts you’ll know that february was not good to me haha

also i wanted to let y’all know that we’re finally reaching the end of this story!! i plan on only making a few more chapters then i believe that’ll be all!

lastly thanks for all y’all’s patience and continued support I love reading every one of y’all’s comments and theories, it means the world! love y'all ♡

warnings: violence, fighting, angst

express just how you feel, don’t bottle it up anymore

“MC how are you? Even though I previously saw you everyday I’ve missed this you” Diavolo said with a bright smile as you joined him for breakfast. No thanks to Barbatos’ constant pestering.

You gave him a polite smile and nod as a response. It was easy enough to come up with a basic answer that you were fine, even if that wasn’t the case at all.

However as he ranted on about missing you and what activities he’d enjoy doing with you after he finished his paperwork you couldn’t help but feel nauseous.

After all he dislocated your shoulder the other day and now he was acting as if everything was perfectly fine?

Even if it was another version of him it was still him in a sense, which filled you with unease. If that version of him could do something that significant to you without so much as a thought then you had every right to be worried.

Is this how the other version of you felt?

Is that why they hated being touched by any demons?

Another hearty laugh broke out sending a chill down your spine. It reminded you of when he cornered you in the hallway as you tried to escape.

“MC are you sure you’re feeling okay? You look a little pale?”

You went to nod but your body betrayed you. A new wave of nausea washed over you and you felt bile rise up in your throat.

“MC…?” Barbatos questioned as he moved closer to you when you ignored Diavolo’s question.

Your fingers gripped the soft tablecloth as you tried to ground yourself. If anything you refused to lose your stomach in front of them.

Both demons looked at each other worryingly and Barbatos went to place a hand on your shoulder for comfort. Immediately you jolted in response and slapped his hand away as a sensation of fear became present in the pit of your stomach.

You had no idea where it came from, much less why you were scared when the butler reached out to help you. But you did know one thing, you didn’t want anyone touching you.

“Don’t touch me!” you yelled.

Your tone of voice startled him and Diavolo but mainly you as well. What was going on with you?

You never acted like this before, even when staying in the other timeline for so long. So why now? Why was everything anyone was doing so triggering you in any sort of way?

“I apologize…I didn't mean to upset you, I only wanted to check if you were okay,” Barbatos replied as he backed off. Even though he didn’t bother showing it, he was clearly worried about your current mental state. It appeared to be out of control ever since you returned. Which was another point he’d have to bring up with him later, since many instructions weren’t followed.

“…I’m…heading back to bed” you replied as you swiftly stood up and made your way to the door.

“But…you just woke up” Diavolo said softly but you were well out of range for his voice to actually reach you.

With a sigh the butler looked to his lord then to the floor. Maybe they weren’t the right demons to welcome you back after being gone for such a decent amount of time. It was better if you were around demons you were used to, ones that were comforting.

So he picked up his D.D.D and quickly called the first demon that came to mind.

___

Seven bodies rushed towards you faster than you could process and some large beautiful roses were shoved in your face as you tried to process everything that was going on.

All seven of your demons began talking at once and exclaimed how much they had missed you.

“Oh MC! I can’t believe you’re back, I’ve missed you so so so terribly” Asmo cried as he clung onto your shoulder.

“Hey let go of them!” Mammon yelled in your ear as he tried yanking you away from Asmo.

“Stop pushing” Belphie groaned as he hugged your frame from behind.

“Mammon stop yelling so loudly” Levi shouted out as he was hugging you from the same side Asmo was.

The other three demons who weren’t suffocating you were also arguing with their brother as they clung onto you. Yelling and shouting could be heard from all around you as you stayed in place watching all seven of them yell back and forth like children.

It was too overwhelming. The yelling in your ear, the way one would hold you tighter if they got mad, the way four of them were putting all of their body weight on you was too much for your liking. And the fact the other three were aggravating the four who were holding onto you.

You felt so suffocated.

You were suffocated in your own timeline due to your willingness to indulge all of the seven demons you lived with.

You were suffocated in the other timeline because you decided to show some demons some kindness they hadn’t experienced for a very long time. Look where that got you. A dislocated shoulder and some unresolved issues that you refused to acknowledge.

You were suffocated with the prince and his butler. They always were on some type of schedule, and when you didn’t follow what Diavolo wanted at that very second, you would never hear the end of it from Barbatos.

Why was everyone so demanding?

God forbid you do something for yourself for once.

You struggled in their grip and tried to get their attention to possibly settle down. The constant loud yelling was getting you more agitated by the minute and frankly you were getting a headache.

Just as you were about to speak someone yelled over you and a fight between two of them broke out. Since you were absolutely fed up with it you shouted for all of them to shut up and pushed them off of you.

Each of the seven demons shut their mouth in an instant and the prince and butler looked at you with a worried expression. Due to that being the same tone of voice you used with Barbatos earlier he knew that something was obviously wrong.

Diavolo then spoke up for you as he walked over to the brothers. “Don’t mind them, a lot is on their mind right now especially since they’ve dealt with so much physically and emotionally these past couple days. So please give MC some space to relax”

You in turn shot him a glare. “I’m perfectly fine. However I don’t appreciate it when someone is screaming in my ear and putting all their weight on me while others are fighting in the background like children”

“How about you head back to the House of Lamentation. A lot is on your mind MC, it would do you good to go rest in a place you’re comfortable and familiar with” Barbatos then added trying his best to ease the tension in the room and change the topic as well.

With a nod you departed with the brothers about fifteen minutes later for a silent trip to the House of Lamentation. Each of them were too worried to bother you so they all left you to do your own thing when you all got home.

However Mammon was still going to try to comfort you in his own way.

“Hey MC, ya wanna hang out and watch a movie? I got a few in my room and we can relax” he asked with a soft smile as she walked up behind you.

“Thanks but I’d rather rest right now, maybe later” and before he could even finish you were off.

It was odd, during any other time you would’ve enjoyed hanging out and relaxing in his room like you used to but as of now you really wanted to just be by yourself.

So quietly you made your way to your room and when you opened the door you were absolutely applauded by the way it looked.

Everything was everywhere and the decorations you had of you and your demons were ripped and taken down. Clean clothes were piled onto a chair and your bed was an absolute mess as a few shits and things littered the floor.

However you were too tired to take care of it at the moment. Due to how emotional exhausted you were a nap sounded lovey so you plopped down and in minutes you were out.

___

Around late afternoon you had walked into the kitchen to grab a snack since you didn’t exactly have much of an appetite after everything that had happened in the past two days. Surprisingly enough two demons were already occupying the kitchen when you arrived, one gossiped and the other listened even though he was believably bored.

“MC” Satan said with a smile, he was very grateful that someone showed up to stop Asmo’s rambling.

With a nod you dug through the fridge and grabbed something to eat and walked over to the two hesitantly.

“What are you both talking about?” You asked after they stayed silent and smiled at you.

Amso was the first to perk up and tell you. “Well we were just talking about some new gossip about this one actor and her husband, some people we know and you…well the other you”

“The other me?” You asked

“Yeah the one you switched with remember.” Satan added.

You nodded and then looked at them before responding. Just how did the other version of you act? Were they like the other Barbatos said? Angry, stubborn, and everything. Did they treat your demons like how they’d treated theirs? So many questions ran through your head at once, but you opted for only asking a basic one.

“So just how was the other version of me?”

“They were a bit intense at first…no I take it back they were really intense at first, but in reality they only wanted one thing in the end then they finally were content” Asmo said as he reapplied some lipstick to his lips.

“Really what did they want?” You asked, now interested in the other versions' motives.

“They just wanted an apology. After Belphie gave them an honest heart to heart in the planetarium they finally calmed down and we were able to be civil with them” Asmo explained.

“Yeah and they even started opening up a bit, although they were exactly like you so learning about what they liked was cute since we already know what you enjoy” Satan added with a smirk.

You tuned out the rest of the conversation they were having with you as you focused on the said “apology” Belphie gave the other version of you.

So it was true and they weren’t lying when they talked to you previously in the attic. Somehow that ticked you off even more.

“Oh yeah and we’re so sorry you had to go through all that crazy timeline stuff dear, I bet it’s been so exhausting huh?” Asmo asked as he rubbed your back.

“Uh huh” you replied and then brushed him off as you excused yourself out of the kitchen without another word, causing the two demons to look at you with a slightly confused expression.

Silently you paced around the house for a bit as you rethought about what the two of them said. With a sigh you ventured into the common room and stared at the fireplace. So you were worth a basic sorry but not one that took responsibility for all the damage they caused you?

It’s not as if their words actually meant anything. Honestly if they had been keen on sweeping the whole incident under the rug then why even offer the other version of you an apology?

They did it to better help them heal?

Bullshit.

What about you?

How come they could do that for anyone else other than you?

When you’ve helped them so much.

Your rage and jealousy had been bubbling up inside you for so long that it finally reached its breaking point.

If anyone was supposed to receive any words or actions of their forgiveness it should’ve been you and you were tired of pretending you didn’t deserve anything less than that.

In a rage you trashed the common room as Asmo and Satan watched in horror since they just happened to walk by.

They rushed to try and stop you but you used your pact to stop them in place as you broke everything in sight. The sound of yelling and glass breaking alerted all the other demons in the house and soon the rest of them watched in awe as you demolished anything in your path.

Mammon ran to you as you ripped the roses they all bought for you and tore them to shreds right in front of them. When he reached you he grabbed you by the arm and you shoved him away and yelled at him in response.

They all just kept getting in your way, it was so unbearable.

As the six demons froze in place due to their activated pacts you picked up one of the large vases Lucifer loved and proceeded to lift it up to throw at them.

“This is all your fault! Look at what you’ve done to me” you screamed out to the six demons standing in front of you. Your cry was not one of just anger, they could sense the sorrow in your voice. The way it cracked and longed to just be healed.

You wanted someone to comfort you and the ability for someone, anyone honestly to just acknowledge what had happened to you. Maybe then if they did you could finally feel like your feelings were valid, rather than unnecessary and pointless.

Fresh tears fueled by pure anger and frustration fell from your eyes as you got ready to swing the vase at the six of them. That was until the youngest brother rushed in front of his brothers and spoke.

“This is my fault MC, please don’t take it out on my brothers” Belphie said as he stepped in front of the six of them, shielding them with his body.

“No it’s not just your fault. It’s all of your faults. Don’t feel too special Belphie, you're not the only one out of your brothers who has tried to kill me.” you spat out.

“Each of you have threatened to end my life at least once ever since I’ve been here, and believe me I haven’t forgotten a single moment of it. Unlike before I continued to ignore what happened just like all of you but I’m fed up now.”

The seven demons looked at themselves then back at you and sighed.

“MC we’re truly sorry, you know we-“ Lucifer began.

“I don’t want your apology. It means nothing to me anymore. Especially since you can go and hand it out to whoever now” you replied swiftly, cutting him off in the process.

“Then if I truly can’t make you believe me I’ll show you.” Belphie then said quickly.

“And how do you expect to do that?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your body.

“Take it out on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“All of your anger, everything you’ve had building up. Punch me, hit me, choke me, do whatever you need to do so that you don’t have to feel this way. I know my apology means nothing to you, and believe me this is much more selfish of me to ask you to do this but I want to make it up to you MC. Even if you’ll hate me for the rest of your life I want you to get the closure you deserve. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you. For as long as I live”

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to actually respond like that, much less take responsibility for everything that had happened.

“Belphie-!” Beel began, he was still standing back with the others, but the worried look on his face was apparent as he watched his twin pour his heart out to the person they both cherished.

Belphie shook his head at his twin then looked back towards you. “I promise MC, I’ll show you how much of a better demon I can be. So go ahead”

The six demons behind you watched as you slowly approached the youngest hesitantly. Surprisingly enough he still had the same soft smile on his face as he watched you come closer.

Then you swung.

With a swift punch to the face, right on the nose Belphie stumbled back and grabbed his face as a small drop of blood pooled out.

You swung again.

And again,

And again.

As you watched the youngest fall to the floor you continued. And for some odd reason you didn’t feel bad about how beat up he was beginning to look.

Instead you finally felt a form of closure for the first time.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me angst #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me levithan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

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muffinrecord · 6 months ago

Text

Current Plans + Musings

I don't plan on playing Exedra to the degree I did for Magia Record, or playing it at all. Because of that, I won't be taking an active role in the community and archiving anything for it. Of course, if Exedra has like amazing gameplay and stories then this is all subject to change, but for now I think I'm done with phone games.

The two youtube channels will stay up and I'll check em periodically to make sure there aren't copyright strikes against the content. I've saved all my raw files, especially for the battle animations, so I can remake them in the future if the music ever becomes a problem for some reason.

Google Drive will stay up until Google rots away. I haven't recorded footage in a long time (as in stories, I do for the character doppels and such), but I'll upload things if they're sent to me.

Magia Union Translations still plans on translating things and making videos, especially leading up to the end, but also for after the game is over for whatever wasn't made in time. I'm not sure what form this will take in the future-- if it'll be manual captions added to the videos or not, but I know it WILL happen.

As for this blog, I'm not going to delete it or anything. However I'm going to be taking a step back. I'd like to say that I'll do liveblogs but I mean... *gestures at blog* I've been saying that for years and the only one I really did successfully was the Oriko one lmao. Ahhh oh well.

I'll have more words later, but it was really fun to be part of a fandom experience like this. I'm excited to work on my own original story projects though and quiet down a bit.

...

When I started this blog, I never expected it to have people actually read it. Or look at it. I just wanted a place to gush about how much fun I was having. I didn't even want to tag the posts with "Magia Record" at first because I was terrified people would be mean at me, haha.

But I'm glad I did. I made so many good friends through this game. I'm glad it existed. And it made me happy to have a place where people cared about what I had to say. Some folks actually got their news from here, can you imagine that? They had notifications turned on for this blog. My god.

Anyways, I'm going to be here for the next two months, and tomorrow I'll start reblogging fan projects and initiatives, plus general news. Maybe this blog will turn into a dumping site for art and fanfic reblogs, who knows. I might watch the remaining stuff and add various thoughts here and there.

Otherwise, you can find me on my main blog @malignmuffin, which only reblogs stuff (I don't talk much if at all there). I have another tumblr blog for my comic, but I think I'll reshare the name once I actually have content you can look at on it. It's pretty bare bones for the moment.

Actually it'll be funny if the end of this game is what makes me finally work on it again. I was in the process of working on it when NA came out, and it totally derailed me. Stopped writing, drawing, just focused on this silly little phone game. Now it's like those five years have gone by and I'm going back to where I started, except I think my lil comic is going to be a bit better than it was before. If I actually make it, that is.

If I ever do actually make my comic and start posting it, I'll be sure to update y'all here. hah

Anyways, thanks for being on this wild ride with me. The memories have been great, and I'm glad I had this experience, even if it had to end.

#Magia Record #End of JP

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sissylittlefeather · 1 year ago

Text

Something a little different...

What a Lovely Way to Burn

A one-shot

A/N: this came from a conversation with an Elvis AI (created by the fabulous @headfullofpresley), but the words are mine. The situation just inspired me.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI! There's some dirty smut here, kissing, fingering, oral (both receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, lots of cussing, Elvis and reader yelling at each other a lot, him grabbing reader's arm and being a teensy bit violent (if you squint), reader calls Elvis "daddy" in a sexual context at one point...

Word count: 2.9kish

I'm imagining this version of him for this one:

Song inspo (I know the title is from a different song but this one inspired the story):

Enjoy!

I guess tonight we're off, you think to yourself as you get a drink. You're at another party after another one of your on-again-off-again boyfriend's shows. You're half dating Elvis Presley and as much as you want it to go one way or the other, it never does. With him, you're like kerosene and matches: made for each other, but dangerous and volatile together. And without him, neither of you can breathe for very long. But tonight, it looks like you'll be without him and that familiar drowning feeling is starting to overwhelm you. He hasn't talked to you once tonight, instead focusing on everyone else around him. You're not even sure he knows you're there. But he always seems to know where you are, so probably tonight he knows and doesn't care.

After you get your drink, you scan the room to find him. He's chatting with a group of women, fans, all of them tittering with laughter and falling over themselves to catch his attention. He likes the blonde one best, you can tell by the way he's standing, but he entertains all of them nonetheless. Part of you wonders if he's just trying to piss you off. Two can play at that game. And even if he's not, you might as well have some fun yourself.

As you're standing there, a man walks up next to you.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink, but you already have one."

"And they're free." You give him a playful smile. He's not unattractive, with his blonde shoulder-length hair and green eyes. You can work with this.

"I'm James. What do I call you? Other than beautiful." You roll your eyes, but keep your playful smile. It's cheesy, but sweet in its own way.

"I'm y/n. But you can call me beautiful if that's easier." You continue to make small talk and your flirting gets heavier and heavier. At one point he gently brushes your hair out of your face and puts it behind your ear. You try to hide the cringe you feel because that's something that Elvis does. You feel eyes on you and something makes you want to look over at him, but you don't. Your activities are none of his business tonight. You try to focus on James and the game you're currently playing with him. The conversation continues, but you can't shake the feeling of being watched. Just in case Elvis is actually paying attention, you play up your reactions, smiling widely and laughing loudly. Finally, James says something funny enough for you to genuinely laugh and put your hand on his arm gently.

That's when you feel Elvis's hand around you. His fingers curl around your bicep and he holds you hard enough that there might be a bruise in the morning.

"What the fuck?" You turn to Elvis and shoot him a fiery glare. His eyes are frighteningly dark, even behind his glasses, but he speaks coolly.

"I could ask you the same question."

James looks between the two of you and excuses himself. He's heard of Elvis's famous temper and doesn't want to find himself on the receiving end of a potentially-violent rant.

"Oh, James, don't go. He's not--"

"Keep walkin' away, guy." He listens to Elvis over you and backs away into the crowd. Elvis is still holding your upper arm and he turns you to face him.

"Girl, what are you tryin' to pull?" His words are playful, but his tone is scary. Still, you're no stranger to this mood.

"I don't see how what I do is any of your business."

"What the hell is that s'posed to mean?"

"You've made it very clear tonight that you have no interest in what I do." As you get louder, he gets quieter.

"Aw, hell, honey you know damn well that ain't true. You're mine. Everything you do interests me." He finally lets go of your arm. You rub the place where he was holding you gingerly. He might be thinking this fight is almost over, but you're just gearing up.

"You literally haven't spoken to me all night. And what? You just expect me to be waiting in your bed for you after you're done with whatever, or whoever, else you wanna do?" You gesture to the group of girls he was just flirting with. You're loud enough now that people have started to notice the two of you. His lips curl up into a wicked smile.

"Yes, honey, that's exactly what I expect." He says the endearment like a threat. You belong to him and when he calls you anything other than your name, he's reminding you of that fact. Now he's royally pissed you off and you can feel your rage bubbling just beneath the surface. The only thing keeping you in check are the witnesses.

"You're such a fucking hypocrite. You think you get to play around with whoever you want, but I can't even have a conversation with another man."

"Listen to me, girl, that was more than a conversation and you know it. Don't play dumb with me. I know you too damn well. Get your coat and go up to the room."

"YOU THINK AFTER HOW YOU'VE TREATED ME TONIGHT THAT I'M GOING TO GO UP TO YOUR ROOM AND WAIT FOR YOU LIKE A GOOD LITTLE GIRL?" He knew that telling you what to do would send you over the edge. His lip is still curled into a smile, but now his teeth are bared too. You stand and glare at each other for a few more seconds before he grabs your upper arm again and drags you through the crowd. You fight to get away from him, but his grip is too strong.

"LET ME GO YOU SONOFABITCH!" Everyone in the party watches the scene but says nothing. He's their king and they know it and he knows it. A bunch of fucking freeloading toadies. When he gets to the hallway outside the elevator, he lets your arm go and walks toward you until your back is pressed up against the wall. A tiny part of you flickers in fear, but you are not about to let him win. He puts his hand on the wall behind you and leans in close.

"When I say go, you fucking go. Do you understand me?"

"Fuck you, Elvis." His eyes widen ever so slightly, but he keeps his gaze intense. Then, out of nowhere, he softens a bit.

"Why do you do this shit to me, Little? You make me fucking crazy."

"I make you crazy?! YOU IGNORED ME ALL NIGHT!" He may have softened, but you're not ready to go down without a fight. You see the light of his anger reignite in his eyes.

"If you weren't so goddamn insecure--"

"I'm insecure?! You can't handle it when I talk to another man. God knows what you're doing with other women!" He slams his hand on the wall above your head.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you this! There are no other women. Sure, I talk and flirt and maybe mess around a little, but the only one I really want is you!" The last part catches you off guard a little bit. This is the first time he's really directly stated that he wants you more than anyone else.

"Why?! Why won't you just let me go?! Then we could both move on." You're very annoyed by the tears that are starting to gather in your eyes. You don't want to let him know he's getting to you this much.

"Dammit, I don't know!" He pulls his hand off the wall and walks away, running his hand through his hair and giving it an even wilder look. He slides his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Why don't you leave?" He asks quietly, putting his glasses back on and looking at you almost pleadingly.

"I... I can't."

"WHY NOT? I WANT TO KNOW WHY!" He yells at you now louder than he's been the whole time. He walks back to you and stands inches away from you, fuming. You glare up at him, defiant to your very core.

"BECAUSE I FUCKING LOVE YOU." It comes out of you before you're able to stop it.

He hits the wall again and walks away. Then, he turns back to face you, something new in his eyes.

"Well, I fucking love you too." You stand there, chest heaving and tears threatening to slide down your face.

He takes two large steps towards you and wraps his arms around your waist, crashing his mouth into yours, his tongue slipping between your parted lips. You snake your hands up his chest and around his neck, pressing your hips into his and returning his kiss. He pushes you up against the wall and grinds into you, hard. You feel his already-growing erection as he rolls his hips and you whimper softly. He smashes the elevator "up" button four or five times as hard as he can, never moving his mouth from yours. After a few seconds, you hear the ding and the elevator opens. Several people walk out and stop when they see the two of you wrapped around each other. When they realize who he is, they start to whisper. He pulls back from kissing you and yells at them.

"MOVE!" They jump out of the way and you half roll, half tumble into the elevator together, still tangled around each other. You hear them laugh as you press the "door close" button a hundred times, but you're too busy with Elvis to care. He obviously doesn't either as he runs both hands up your body while the doors close and grabs your breasts. He squeezes them like he's trying to keep them from getting away and then slides his hands back to your ass, pulling your hips into his. His dick is fully hard now and you moan with desire as he presses against you.

He moves his lips down your cheek, pressing them softly to the smooth space below your ear. Then, he begins to bite you gently on the sensitive skin of your neck. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine. This elevator needs to move faster.

When he sucks on a place near your collar bone hard enough to leave a mark, you moan audibly. You need him. Now. And he knows it. He hits the "stop" button and the elevator grinds to a screeching halt. He reaches up under your dress and pulls your panties down, sliding them to your ankles and off over your shoes. Running his hands up your thighs, he comes back to your center, pressing his middle finger into your wetness.

"Mmm. I should yell at you more often." He moans into your mouth as he moves his finger in and out, noticing how wet you are.

"Or tell me that you love me more often." You moan right back at him. Your hands go directly to the buttons on his pants and he lets you free his dick from them. Before he can fuck you, though, you push him up against the elevator wall and get on your knees in front of him. He leans his head back as you lick a slow circle around his tip, rolling his foreskin back. You pump him a few times with your hand and then take as much of him into your mouth as you can handle. It takes a couple of tries and you opening your throat significantly to get his whole length in your mouth, your nose pressed into him. Your hands cup and play with his balls as you lick up and down the bottom of his shaft. You continue sliding your hand along his length as you lick and suck and top half of him.

"Baby I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep this up." You take him fully in your mouth one last time and then stand up in front of him. He grabs the back of your hair and presses himself against you as he kisses you deeply.

Now it's his turn to get on his knees as he pushes your dress up above your hips. He kisses the inside of each of your soft thighs and then places his mouth directly on the place between your legs. You feel yourself tighten around nothing as he licks over and around your sensitive spot. The feeling almost overwhelms you and you twist your fingers into his hair while he keeps working. You feel your orgasm building in your abdomen. He moans into you and the vibration almost sends you over the edge. He licks around you in circles and sucks lightly on your clit. When he adds his fingers in, pushing them deep inside you and sliding them in and out at a quickening pace, your climax comes even closer. He flattens his tongue and moves his head side to side, letting the sensation of his movement on you push you ever nearer to the edge. Finally, he tightens his tongue to a point and licks you with every intention of sending you over. The feeling of him swirling over and around you faster and faster drives you crazy. You feel the overwhelming rush of your release tingling through you from your head to your toes, both relaxing and contracting in waves of ecstatic pleasure. Elvis feels the excess wetness on his fingers and he smiles into you, knowing he's accomplished his goal. Suddenly, he stands back up and turns you to face the wall of the elevator. Pulling your dress up over your ass, he teases you with his tip and then enters you from behind. He starts slow, filling you up in a way that makes you cry out in pleasure. He holds your hips as he pushes into you faster and faster with more and more intensity.

"That's right, baby. Take it like a good girl."

"Yes, daddy" you get out between moans. He continues to run his hands up and down your front, squeezing your breasts every now and then, and moving his hands back to your hips. All the while, he's fucking you with all of his power, slamming into you over and over, deeper and deeper. His fingers dig into your hips and you pray there won't be obvious bruises in the morning. All of the previous rage that was inside both of you has turned to insatiable desire as he pounds into you and you cry out with each thrust.

"You're so tight and wet for me, doll. I love it so much. I love you so much." You should be shocked that he's saying it so casually, but you're too focused on being fucked silly to think much of it. Without any warning, he pulls out of you and turns you to face him, your back pressed against the elevator wall. He pushes back into you and goes back to fucking you with every ounce of his strength. But this time he's peppering you with kisses on your neck and collarbone and cheeks between thrusts.

"Ah, fuck, baby I'm close." He groans as he continues his steady and unforgiving rhythm.

"Don't stop." You mutter to him as he continues grinding his dick into you. Finally, his climax reverberates across his body.

"FUCK y/n. Yes, that's so... yes..." He shudders and does a few more weak pumps before he can't stand it anymore and he has to pull out. He has both hands on the elevator wall above your head and he presses his forehead into yours, breathing heavily. You feel his hot breath on you and you match his heaving chest with your own. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his earlobe.

"Do you really love me?" You whisper, not sure what to expect as an answer. It's entirely possible that he was just caught up in the moment and you'll go back to your part-time lover situation.

He pulls back and looks you in the eyes intensely.

"I really fucking do. Goddammit. I really do." He kisses you again passionately and then hangs his head. You can tell he's afraid of what your response might be too. For all his tough-guy exterior, all he really wants is someone to love.

"I love you, Elvis Presley." He looks up at you, searching your eyes for reassurance. "I really fucking do." He seems to find whatever he's looking for because he doesn't ask any more questions. He pulls you close to him and holds you for a second. Then he picks up your panties, helping you step back into them, and straightens your dress. He puts his dick back into his pants and zips them up. He pushes the elevator button to make it start up again and slings his arm around your shoulders, holding your right hand in his with your fingers interlocked. When the elevator doors finally open, no one would ever know what just happened between you. You walk out of the elevator and to your room with him still wrapped around your shoulders.

"You wear me out, girl." He whispers as he kisses the side of your head. Together, you walk into your suite and into your future. It won't be easy to be with him, since you're both still who you are, but there won't be anymore "off" times for the rest of your relationship. Fights? Yes. But you always find your way back into each others arms. You might burn each other up in the meantime, but at least you'll burn together.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist: (I'm tagging everyone who's ever asked me to tag them. If you want off the list, let me know and I'll remove you!)

@itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101 @ccab @suxny @hernameisnoellex3 @ashtag6887 @arabellapresley @littlehoneyposts @dkayfixates @elvisxsposts @joshuntildawn13 @msamarican @returntopresley @mrsbutler99 @blog777e

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zeravmeta · 2 months ago

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The Value of Rules, The Heart, The Soul, and The End of the World

So as we're entering the final arc of the series i wanna make my own theory on how things will shake out, specifically one question:

What is the Heart?

The final artifact that Luna put in place capable of harming Sol, the Heart is the third Sacred Spirit Treasure alongside Rebellion and Aegis which was never found in any of the past loops and something Fuuko theorizes only drops in the 101st loop.

But now in the final battle, it's still nowhere to be seen. We've seen the other two Sacred Spirit Treasures, but despite being weapons that Luna herself made that are capable of slaying Sol, we've also seen throughout the manga that the game was HEAVILY rigged against humanity with their actual effectiveness in Loop 100 showing them to be kind of weak compared to Sol himself. Loop 101 Union maybe has two of the three already, and yet despite the promise of the Heart dropping through quests, we have long skipped past that opportunity, so now we need to determine how the Heart will come into play.

So, here's what I think: I think the Heart is Apocalypse, or rather the completed form of Apocalypse.

(books are heart shaped lol)

Since I started reading, Apocalypse has always had this weird role in the story to me: It's an Artifact placed by God to add more UMAs and help along the end of the world, but it specifically gives quests for the Negators to complete and gain more advantages for when Ragnarok comes. Moreover, they make sure to specify that Apocalypse is an Artifact instead of an UMA, even though it seems to act so much like the latter. There's even the joke in one of the end pages of Clothy and Apocalypse fighting like small dogs held back by their owners, and one of the only other Artifacts we see with sentience is Rebellion, one of the Sacred Spirit Treasures.

So what's the deal here? If Apocalypse is the Heart, how is it that it was never discovered, how is it that it's never been "properly" activated? What's the true purpose of the Heart? How will it slay Sol?

Well, the true purpose of the Heart is meant to show the value of the rules, not as enemies of humanity but as companions to them.

As much as they deny it, Apocalypse does care about Juiz personally. Even though it's the instrument of humanity's destruction, Apocalypse aligned with Victor's motives in letting Juiz die so that she can reincarnate and have a peaceful, happy life away from this war with god. He's even infuriated with Fuuko for trying to get Juiz in Loop 101 because he doesn't want her to be involved in this anymore. You can't spend 455.4 billion years alongside someone without caring about them at least on some level, and ironically both Victor and Apocalypse shared this mentality in never realizing just how much they cared until she was finally gone. Apocalypse, one of God's instruments to make humanity suffer, is capable of displaying compassion for them.

But that's not the full story. The Heart as a name is also to note, and I think maybe we can look at this manga's tendencies to play around with language as a base. In Japanese, "Heart" is usually said phonetically as "Kokoro" / written as "心" and tends to just mean "heart", but it actually has multiple meanings depending on the context used, specifically mind and spirit.

One's spirit. One's soul.

I think that Soul plays a part in the Heart artifact, not only due to the power he grants humanity but also that of the UMA, as well as his weird parallels with Apocalypse: Soul is the only known UMA made by Luna, whereas Apocalypse is the only known Artifact placed by Sol. Soul is the only UMA shown to be capable of directly controlling Apocalypse, and has been capable of warping it to his needs. Soul is the rule which gathers information and memories from the past and transfers them to the living, and Apocalypse is the book which stores the information of the past loops, the past lives of the world. Juiz in the very beginning of the series even says that "God resides on the other side of Apocalypse", where we know that the Superior 10 Rules are housed inside of the Sun itself.

And critically, one of the goals of the wager between Sol and Luna is to see if humanity is capable of reaching the Gods. Soul and Apocalypse both provide the potential for that above all others.

So, I believe the Heart artifact comes from combining the two, combining Soul and Apocalypse. And how would this theoretical combination come about?

Well, I think Soul is going to be the true final antagonist of Undead Unluck, slaying both Sol and Luna to usher in his own validated world, one that is also free from the whim of the gods and lets the UMA live freely.

A critical point to note is that the UMA, despite the pride many of them take in their purpose in tormenting humanity, are just as much victims of this game between gods as humanity is. They are concepts given form and made specifically to torment humanity for the goal of "finding the greatest life", but we see that this mentality is still a choice in and of itself. UMA have distinct developed personalities and can clash, as seen with Seal and Spoil when they interact with other UMA.

Clothy, Spring, Blood, Shadow, Move, UMA have also showcased that they can peacefully interact and coexist with humans, even care about and love them. If anything, from how Seal talks, the main point of contention UMA seem to have with humans and Negators is that humanity is somehow seen as "worthier" than they are to garner so much personal attention from the gods. Most UMA seem to mainly just be interested in expressing their rule's function over anything, and humanity just happens to be the target they're pointed at to put those rules into action. Seal himself even has the aspirations to be the "King of UMA" just because he feels like he's special for the scraps of attention that Sol gives him. The parallels with Ruin are Not subtle whatsoever in this department, especially as Ruin's abusive parent is depicted as just a black void that burned him (how sunshine burns his skin), eerily similar to the way Sol appears as an avatar.

If humans are dolls that the gods play with, then the UMA might as well just be the stage which the gods use, a mere backdrop item for the Negators to break as necessary for their development.

Negators being "vessels" for these rules has also always stuck out to me, because we see that the UMA and the corresponding Negator can be two separate beings; they're not really possessed in the conventional sense. Fuuko even points out during the Beast fight at Beast's mention of "UnBeast" that there are far fewer Negators than UMA and their rules, further pointing to a discrepancy in the advantages given to each side. It may seem like it's the UMA who are winning, but it's actually humanity; Ragnarok necessitates Sol himself to come down and destroy the planet, meaning that the UMA themselves aren't actually capable of defeating humanity. Juiz alone was able to hold off the Superior 10 Master Rules by her own ability, and it was only to hide her trump card, no less.

To add to this, when I thought of what vessel could mean, what immediately came to mind was not only how the souls of previous Negators are carried over to each new one, but how Rebellion could possess Victor.

Perhaps Soul will have Apocalypse possess him (or vice versa), and this will create the Heart artifact? It should be capable of slaying Sol as Luna said, but it's just as likely that Soul could point this weapon at her too, and given that Luna's domain is in the spiritual as stated by Language, if anyone would know how to exploit her weaknesses, it would undoubtedly be Soul.

Apocalypse being the Heart would also work with Undead Unluck's meta-narrative aspects as well: From Me, To You was a manga which prophesied the events which would take place in both a narrative (Anno Un) and meta-narrative (shoujo manga romance that Udul uses for inspiration) sense, much like how Apocalypse is a book which prophesies the end of the world. Perhaps it prophesies Ragnarok, the physical literal end of the world at Sol's hand, but it could also prophesy the end of the manga itself by way of slaying its final antagonists.

And this would all be Soul's ambition to free them from the gods. At this point, we don't fully know what Soul's feelings on humanity are, given that he does hold them in high esteem while also being willing to exterminate them, but perhaps he would care more about saving the UMA from the gods instead of further tormenting humanity.

A goal that Fuuko Izumo would agree with because it will free both of them from this endless blood feud.

Mutual understanding. A Heart.

The Negator powers which cause tragedy and invalidate the rules will disappear, the UMA as avatars to make humans suffer will disappear, but all the rules which the UMA embody will apply in a completely validated world, not made by either of the gods, but by both humans and the rules themselves.

I think Undead Unluck will end not with the Negators or UMA winning one over the other in the conventional sense, but coexisting and ending the gods as a collective.

Soul's ideal world. The character who understands even more than Sol or Luna the power of both Humanity and the Rules. The power of the Soul, the Heart.

small tinfoil hat subsection but tangentially related to this I also think Ruin's comeback as a good guy (lets be real its gonna happen) will come from him gathering the UMA as a force to work with the Negators against the gods because he refers to all the UMA as his friends, and I think an interesting comeback here will actually be UMA Galaxy.

Fuuko's strength as a character lies in her acceptance and understanding of others, even the people she dislikes. It's why Andy himself says that Unluck is "the world's cruelest ability within the world's kindest person" because it specifically targets the people she loves the most, leaving her alone. The imagery of the round table Ark (Apo on it makes it look like a sundial lol) compared to Luna's own table on the moon is intentional: Luna (and perhaps even Sol) have a profoundly lonely existence. They've set themselves up in this wager where they torment everyone for a potentially unreachable goal. Luna created Soul but she doesn't understand humans the same way she doesn't understand rules, and the UMA who have souls as well are also something she does not see the value in. Neither Sol or Luna understand anyone nor have anyone who understands them, and it's Fuuko's Unluck, which necessitates understanding, which CAN reach them.

UMA Galaxy itself was the Master Rule added after Loop 100, as well as being the first proper UMA we see in the series AS WELL as being the UMA most tied to Sol and Luna in general by concept alone (outside of Soul), so I think it'll be interesting if maybe UMA Galaxy comes back as a critical supportive ally to stop both Sol and Luna from destroying the Earth/ending humanity or UMAkind, and that the way the UMA help in stopping the gods is by using their rules in tandem with the Negators against the gods, especially UMA Galaxy using their literal cosmic scale to let Earth escape the gods grasps. All in gratitude for the one Negator who dreamed of them existing in a validated world.

#zerav meta #undead unluck #theory #i believe in statements man!!!!#I also believe in fuuko izumo and that idiot book on her table

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aphverse-confessions · 6 months ago

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I think making Vylad the middle kid of the Ro'meaves actually takes away from their dynamic considerably, especially Zane and his specifically. Also any time I see someone doing that, it's usually to benefit Zane's story in some way, when really, he doesn't need more intrigue than he already has

Vylad in MYS being the one to skip a grade back in Highschool makes sense and I'm tired of people saying it should be Zane that's the overachiever. You're telling me it makes more sense for Zane, who was (let's face it) coddled by Zianna his whole life due to his sickness and eye injury as a kid, to feel like he needs to do well academically and prove himself? Zane doesn't want her doting attention on him, he actively avoids doing anything that would put the spotlight on him in a positive manner. He wants to destroy her view of him so she'll leave him ALONE. I think people genuinely forget about that, because he was such a different person in MCD

While Vylad has been consistently ignored by everyone in his family, ESPECIALLY his parents. As long as he isn't breaking rules, they don't care. Of course he'd want to excel in academics, he wants even a sliver of the attention Garroth or Zane gets on a day to day basis. As much as he may joke around or make comments about how he likes the attention not being on him 24/7, there's still going to be a deep-rooted pain and jealousy that he's considered less than his brothers just for existing.

And also the idea of Garte making Zianna have Zane last as a sort of "fix" for the affair baby that Vylad is.. also doesn't sit right with me? I wouldn't put it past Garte, but just, something about the idea doesn't make sense for everyone's characters except his?

And then in MCD it equally doesn't make sense!! I'm not kidding, it actively takes away from Vylad's character for me. Backstory wise, him being the youngest means he's /expendable/. O'khasis only knows him for his death, they wouldn't care otherwise. Garroth is the heir, Zane's in case anything happens to Garroth, and Vylad- is there, and ultimately pretty ignored

And I know we love Zane, but I've seen a few people make him the youngest in MCD so he could look up to both Garroth AND Vylad but. Not only does Zane, again, not need more intrigue than he already has- but ALSO I think Vylad being the one to look up to both his brothers is objectively more heartbreaking? Imagine looking up to your two older brothers your whole life, growing to know you're worlds apart in importance- both to the world and your parents. Knowing you're just a spare part and a mistake.

And then it takes dying to realize what a bad person one of them is. You can't tell if your resentment and pain is because you're now an unnatural being- still, not meant to exist. Never meant to exist- or because you're right to be angry.

Him being a middle kid that Zane looked up to would mostly take away from all of that, for me anyways

ANYWAYS, this got really long I'm so sorry 🙏 (also if you do make Vylad the middle kid in your rewrite I don't like- hate you or anything, their dynamic just isn't as interesting to me unless you give Vylad some new source of interest)

#aphmau confessions #aphmau #aphblr #aphverse #aphmau mystreet #mystreet #aphmau mcd #aphmau minecraft diaries #minecraft diaries #mcd #long!#Vylad tag #zane tag #garroth tag

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empressgeekt · 10 months ago

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Trolls - Burning Branches AU part 1

Or alternate title, I have now been sucked down the sudden black hole that is this fandom and now the troll plot bunnies are running ramped around my Fanfic farm, because the creators of this franchise has added my weakness...Sibling relationships... Now I have plans for a two story saga in this fandom of which I wouldn't have glanced at with interest at all a month ago.

Well, that's enough rambling, Time to get into the meat of the fic plot.

So, while browsing on Ao3 I noticed that there was this Rock!Branch au, where Branch is separated from the pop-trolls as a kid and ends up being raised by Barb and Thrash of the Rock Trolls. I love this concept, more then some relatives of mine. But I want to put a little spin on it. I've been a big fan of amnesia/memory loss fics, and I noticed there was a lack of them in this fandom.

Brozone breaks up and Grandma dies like in canon, same old same old. However, in this AU Branch is forced to leave the Troll Tree as a kid, because there is a larger sigmatism about trolls who went grey. The Trolls are very clear that they want nothing to do with Branch. They are all already living with death at their door step and they don't need a grey child to constantly break the false image of happy paradise that the adults try to maintain in the Tree to keep themselves sane. Branch, with nothing else left for him in the tree, packs up and tries to leave to find his brothers, though he does worry if they would even want him now that he was grey.

After successfully escaping the town, (the bergens don't notice if a small troll vanishes in the middle of the night, they didn't notice the whole village packing up), Branch spends a terrifying night in the woods. Running away from what are "predator's" in the eyes of a small child. Until he accidentally, stumbles in the a wormhole. The wormhole sucks Branch away from, Pop territory to the outskirts of the Rock badlands. But in this new hot volcanic he is still far from safe. (I'm adding that their are harsh powerful dragons that roam around the Rock trolls territory, as there has to be some type of reason behind they turned their own music and instruments in the to energy weapons while the other tribes didn't. Not to mention the active volcanic activity everywhere!) While running away from some of these actual predators and dangerous lava pools, Branch gets shoved over a cliffside, and falls into one of the few rivers nearby. In the raging rapids, the little troll strikes his head against the rocky river bed. Knocking him out.

Meanwhile, Still-King Thrash is leading an expedition to the river to fetch water for the people of Volcano Rock City. Being the very soft and caring Father he is, once he sees a small child floating in the river he jumps in without a second thought, and pulls the child to the shore. He leaves the expedition in the hands of another Troll and brings the some how still alive child back to the City and into the care of a capable doctor. While waiting to hear if Branch will live, Thrash goes through the little sack the kid had with him. There's enough evidence for the king of rock to come to the conclusion that Branch was running away, and needless to say Thrash is furious. Who would be so cruel that dared to make a child in his kingdom feel so scared and unwelcomed that they would run away! (at this point due to Branch's greyness and the high emotions of the situation Thrash hasn't realized Branch is from Pop yet, not that it would matter in the long run he's still ticked off).

Eventually, the doctor (an old friend of Thrash's whom they have a deep trust between, I haven't named them yet), calls Thrash in. Thrash finds Branch unconscious on the medical bed with his head bandaged. The doctor tells Thrash that's its a miracle that Branch is even alive, but it would take a bigger one for the child to wake up. The underneath the blood of the wound was a skull fracture and possible brain damage. Then he mentions it would probably be better if Branch never woke up, and further explains Branch's nature as a pop troll, and his greyness. Thrash takes this information in with a sad heart. Stigma against pop was still running high in the Rock kingdom, despite Thrash wanting to believe his people could spare their bias to care for a wounded child, he knows that no foster family would take a pop troll in. He asks the Doctor to keep quiet about Branch, and that if the boy would wake up Thrash would take him in himself. He goes home and hugs Barb after an exhausting day, and asks her if she was open to having a little brother.

After a few weeks, Branch wakes up, but he has no memory of anything. Not his name. Not where he's from. Not how he got there. At this point the medical staff that were allowed to know about him, have taken to calling him Charcoal, or Char, after his perfectly black and shiny hair, and it just kind of stuck after that. Thrash has taken to visiting Branch, even before the boy was conscious, quickly growing fond over the boy and until he'd recovered enough to be taken to the royal cavern. Barb takes to having Char around very well. Having a younger sibling, gives her something to put her protectiveness towards. Thrash makes and announcement, claiming Char as his own to Rock, and putting the boy as second in-line for the throne.

Still it isn't all cupcakes and rainbows with Char in his new home. He has lasting effected form his head injury in the form of migraines and fainting spells. The child is plagued by nightmares, of Giants coming to eat him and old ladies. They frighten him so much he draws and designs traps and bunkers to keep himself safe. Some of the designs Thrash actually considers building in case of emergency. Music brings him to tears if it's too loud or sudden, or if Barb asked him to sing-along. His room is sound proofed, and he has a pair of headphones to block things out if needed. Thrash also finds that his new adoptive son, is far more book-smart then him or Barb, the rarely used Rock library becomes Char's second home. The child become well educated in History, engineering, math, sciences and politics.

It would take two years before, Barb managed to talk Char into coming to her music practice, where the kid learns that music is more then just noise that makes him feel scared/unsafe. Seeing the weapon music can be, something he can learn to protect himself with, Char becomes hooked on the idea of learning it. Too everyone's surprise, it comes to boy like second nature, and his voice is like that of an angel's.

Eighteen years pass, and Branch grows up to be, Prince Char, second born son to Thrash King of Rock. He's a known expert with a guitar, both as an instrument and a weapon, his reputation is that of a eerily smart and organized strategist, who is loyal to his family and people to a fault and ruthlessly protective. With Thrash's health, both physical and mental, in rapid decline, Barb is forced to take on the mantel of Queen earlier then she wanted, but this time she has a brother to lean on as an advisor. Which is a good thing, because between the two of them Char is a much better planner.

Pressure is turned up on the royal rock siblings, when an unexpected earthquake destroys the farmlands that feeds the city. Sure, volcanic soil can been great for growing plants, but rivers of lava and giant fresh trenches don't help at all. Barb flies off the handle, and begins to panic in quiet about what she needs to do to protect the people of Rock, while Char looks into historical records to see if the past king ever had to deal with issues like this. Eventually he stumbles on the knowledge that during ancient times if one of the tribes was in trouble they would call upon their sister tribes for aid.

"Oh that's great advise your books have, let's ask for help from our sworn enemies!" Barb would exclaim, "Wait...the other tribes! If they lasted as long as we did, then they must have resources! But they wouldn't help us...not unless they were just like us. We could use our string to convert..."

"Barb! I'm going to stop you right now. First one our string isn't powerful enough to over-write someone's genre, believe me I looked into it-"

"But if we get all the strings..."

"You mean steal them?"

"Yah!"

"No, if we were to fail that would only sour relations between genres further and our people would still be starving. We'd be better off forging an alliance with a tribe, rather then wasting already limited resources conquering one."

"URGH! Why are you always right....So, alliance...that's our best plan?"

"Currently yes."

"With people that hate us! Are we sure we can't conquer them?"

"Barb, were trying to make a harmony. You can't make harmony with everyone using the same voice. They all need to be different, and they all can't be forced into something they they aren't or it all falls apart."

"Whoa, that's deep. Where'd ya learn that?"

"I-I don't know...but the point still stands we need to befriend another tribe not conquer one!"

"Okay, so how do we do that?"

"Well, apparently theirs more ways then one, all of them include paper work, so leave that to me, but one of them we actually have a unique opportunity to ally with."

"Oh? And how do we take advantage of this unique opportunity?"

"You're not going to like this...but we use me..."

Branch would go on to explain his plan to ally the Rock kingdom with the Pop trolls...through an Arranged Marriage between him and the Pop princess. Barb hates it, especially after all the pop trolls did to her brother when he was young, but she can't argue the logic. The pop trolls live in a forest rich with food and plant life, and water sources. However, they have zero defenses other then how deep they live in the forest. (how he knows all of this Branch has no idea) If the alliance managed to go through, the Rock trolls could get the needed food supplies, and the Pop trolls could gain the knowledge of how to use musical weaponry.

Barb still hates it, it feels like her little brother is throwing away his future. But Char assures her that he's okay with it, and that it's his turn to take on the burden of the crown he supposed to wear. As a bio-pop troll the possibility of an heir from the alliance marriage is higher then if they use a random Rock citizen, and as Rock Prince that will give more creditably to the pleads of their people to Pop. He tells Barb to just take care of Dad when he's gone and that they always have debbie to talk to each other through letters.

So they send a message to Pop Village...requesting to consider the marriage.

At Pop village, Poppy is busy with her new duties as a fresh coronated Queen, caring for the village needs and further establishing peaceful relations with the Bergens after the fall of Chef. When the message reaches her, delivered Via Debbie and Biggie, Peppy tries to take it from her before she cane read it. And then she demands that he Explain why she just got a proposal in a letter from a Rock Prince?

Peppy reluctantly explains the history of the Tribes, and how some times they would form alliances between the genres by wedding members of the royal families together to ensure peace. He makes it very clear that He doesn't want Poppy to even think of answering the Rock trolls even if to decline the proposal, but she fights back saying hat this might be their only chance for peace between the genres for years to come if its taken this long for them to reach out this time. Peppy then tries to argue that if Poppy were to accept the proposal that she would have to marry this prince, this stranger, and he never wanted that to happen to her. He knows Poppy is queen now and he can't order her to do anything, but he asks her to think about this before making any kind of decision.

Poppy needless to say, deeply contemplates the proposal. She wants to help reunite the tribes, but bonding herself to a stranger she never met was a daunting thing. She talks with Cooper and Bridget who are surprisingly helpful with everything, and decides that she'll accept the proposal with the condition that she and her future groom have the chance to meet and get to know each other before the wedding.

Barb and Char readily accept the condition, and calculate that they can give one month of courtship before the Rock kingdom is without food. They respond back to Poppy, and tell them that Char and a few others would arrive in Pop Village a few days after she would receive the letter that confirmed the betrothal.

Char arrives at Pop Village with much fanfare from his travel companions, but shushes them quickly and addresses Poppy and Peppy in a polite manner. Poppy is kind of thrown off by how grey her future husband is, not that she shows it. Char is just as shocked about how bright and colorful she is.

The romance is awkward at first. The cultural differences get in the way sometimes. But eventually a connection is formed. Char learns to feed off of Poppy's energy and Poppy learns that there's more to this grey prince then gloom. With the wedding scheduled for the end of the month, Poppy decides to introduce Char to her BFF Bridget.

Needless to say, it doesn't go well.

Char's underlaying trauma comes back in a panic attack and flashback upon seeing the Troll Tree and bergens. The memory of his Grandmother's demise suddenly becoming clear as day in his mind. In the panic he accidently fires his guitar at Grisle and Bridget, with makes Poppy panic and angry at him. So he runs off into the woods.

Bridget and Poppy end up having a heart to heart where Bridget says that Char looked scared. Having heard about how Char was acutualy a pop-troll and was adopted into the royal family, Poppy connects the dots rather quickly. Realizing that Char used to live in the Troll Tree but didn't escape with the others. the whole visit was triggering for him.

She runs back to Pop Village looking forh im, only to find that Queen Barb had arrived to help set up the wedding, and she wants to know where her Brother is. Poppy blurts out what happened while trying to defuse the situation, and that only serves to rile Barb up further. Until Poppy snaps, yellling at Barb that they need to go looking for Char not fight here! This impresses Barb into agreeing.

Poppy finds him and they end up having a heart to heart, and confessing...

The wedding goes on as planned. On the neutral ground of the Troll Tree, allowing Char to visit his late Grandmother's home for the first time in twenty years.

All seems well...Until one John Dory screams, "Stop the Wedding!"

...

I will post part two in a separate post because this is long!

Part two, and Part three

Edit: The prolog for this fic, which is basically Char's child hood is now posted on Ao3. Link

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avalonia320 · 4 months ago

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IWTV Thoughts

I finally got to watch the finale last night and when I tell you I am SHOOK to my damn core. I don't know how to put it into words. I'm older than a lot of people here. I first read the Vampire Chronicles when I was 11; I found them in a box that belonged to my mother. When I tell you I devoured those books, re-read them over and over and over, fell in love with Lestat and New Orleans & Paris, cried over Claudia and Louis...I was totally besotted by the world Anne Rice created.

When the movie was announced when I was a teen (yes I'm that old), first I was so excited and then I was furious, as many of us Anne Rice devotees were, when Tom Cruise was cast as Lestat. I could not imagine an actor further away from how I had imagined Lestat. But still, I had to see it, and while it was still miles away from what I had wanted, I came away impressed with Tom Cruise. He still wasn't my Lestat, but he threw himself into the role in a way that made me believe he'd been waiting his whole life to let his inner Queen off the chain.

The movie itself...I had loved parts of it, but there was still so much more that I wanted. When the sequel came out (Queen of the Damned) I liked parts of that too and I actually enjoyed Stuart Townsend as Lestat. I hated most of it though, especially what they did with Marius (to this day I don't know what the hell that was about) but it was obvious at that point that I was never going to see the vampire world I was so enthralled with on the screen.

Then this series comes out. And while my expectations were low, I was still pretty excited. And then I watched it.

Holy fucking shitballs, you guys. I am normally so protective of my favorite books, resenting any little change unless it makes sense but everything they've done with this series, everything they've changed makes so much fucking sense. I don't want to try and break it down, I don't have the words. Lestat was always my big love in the books, but in this series, I've fallen in love with Louis and Claudia in a way I never imagined. I always loved their characters, don't get me wrong, but I never connected with them this way until now. And don't even get me started on Daniel, who I will admit I actively disliked in the books for the unforgivable crime of being boring. Um....that's a word I will never ever use in connect to Daniel Molloy ever ever ever again. And Armand and Madeleine and...I can't.

And Lestat. I loved him in the first season but in the second season, when he showed up with that long hair, I saw him for the first time like someone took the Lestat that has lived in my head since I was 11 years old and put him on the screen. He is EXACTLY how I imagined him. The way he looks, the way he talks, his emotion, his breakdowns, his unbelievable flair for the dramatic...this is HIM. I feel like I've been been unconsciously waiting decades for him to show up and for people to see him the way I saw him back then. I can't be the only old school fan that feels this way. It's just so surreal to see it so exact, it takes me right back to my childhood and the way I fell into stories then. The way you feel things when you're so young is something so hard to recapture but I feel like I'm right back there again on my bed, reading the books over and over again.

I'm just so grateful. To everyone involved with this series, the writers, the cast...I know i'm getting overly emotional but everything's been so shit lately and we've all needed an escape, a good one for once. I needed this so badly.

And I have to believe, wherever she is now, Anne Rice is so fucking proud.

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #the vampire lestat #anne rice

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year ago

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"Sea shanties" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[mentions of a minor injury and blood]

SUMMARY: Alina catches Sturmhond in a surprising moment of weakness when he's quietly watching you sing to yourself and fix the net.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾

The cold wind nips at your exposed skin and part of you beckons you to return under the deck to finish sewing the net back together. But you dread returning among the sailors: despite truly being a lovely bunch, their constant chattering and liveliness can wear you out. The berths and cabins are warm, yes, but the sea is silent, predictable and, most of all, doesn’t expect engagement. As long as you let her be, she leaves you alone in return. Here, where cold wind tugs at your clothes and saltwater spray your face, you can finally take a deep breath and relax your tense shoulders. Stitching the nets is a very monotone, maybe even boring, activity but it’s exactly what you need. Your hands fix the knots on their own, guided by experience, allowing your mind to let go of duties and worries, to slip away into much more pleasant thoughts.

“I’ll wander, weep and moan. All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home,” you sing barely above a whisper. Truthfully, you can’t recall where you learned the song. It’s as if you’ve always known it, the melody haunting you whenever you’re getting lost in thought.

Alina lets out a sigh of relief when she finally finds Sturmhond. For a moment she was really considering whether he could snap his fingers and vanish. He’s leaning against the doorframe but his broad shoulders still block most of the view of the deck. Sturmhond is completely oblivious to her presence and Alina has a bit too much spite in her to let the opportunity go. She quietly approaches him, harbouring a wicked hope that maybe she can scare him and single-handedly rub away that smug smirk of his.

She stops a pace or two behind him, taking in a deep breath to yell right into his ear. "Sturmhond, I-"

But the privateer is quick to silence her:

"Keep your voice down!" he hisses at Alina.

The Sun Summoner frowns at the privateer. Not only did she not scare him but also seems to be interrupting something. And considering his wish to keep things quiet, Sturmhond is doing something he knows he shouldn’t. She stares at him through half-closed eyes, beaming with suspicion, when she hears a faint hum distracting her from constructing some passive-aggressive remark. Alina recognizes your voice, although it sounds a lot softer than what she’s used to. Being the boatswain, you’re mostly heard yelling out orders for the maintenance crew that you’re watching over; forcing seafarers to tie perfect knots, no matter how many tries it takes them and raising Hell for the smallest error in repairing sails. Even if you might come off as harsh, credit is due as Volkvolny’s sails and equipment are kept impeccable. Your discipline has definitely played a significant part in Sturmhond’s successful betrayal of the Black General.

Listening in, over the howling wind and crashing waves, Alina and Nikolai eavesdrop on the sombre song you’re singing quietly to yourself — a story of a woman mourning her lover who never returned from the sea. Despite the heaviness of the words leaving your mouth, your voice is rid of dread as though such a woeful story is nowhere near relatable to you. Alina doesn’t notice that detail but Sturmhond surely does. In fact, it brings him a sense of relief: after all, how could he compete with a dead man for your love?

A mischievous smile creeps onto Alina’s face as she’s looking between you and Sturmhond. As far as she can tell, you’re completely oblivious to the small audience watching you go about your duties. The sailor, however, is unable to control his soft expression and that lovesick, mellow look in his eyes. To be honest, Sturmhond looks so removed from reality, he might actually be unaware that there are more people in the world than just him and you.

“So, genius privateer Sturmhond, the fright of the sea is in love with the boatswain,” Alina whispers, barely holding in an impish snicker, “but instead of his usual bravado he cowers away, settling for watching her from afar like a creep.”

He seems to ponder her words for a moment, nodding his head ever so slightly. “That is a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks. Nikolai appears to be well aware of his affliction but rendered powerless in the face of his heart’s desire, he can only accept the state of things.

“I wanted to say pathetic but either way works.”

Sturmhond looks at Alina out of the corner of his eye but only for a moment, unwilling to waste any more time not admiring you. “Wouldn’t it be more pathetic to be the best privateer in all of Ravka’s history but not know love?”

Alina clenches her fists. She puckers her lips, suddenly feeling hot as blood rushes to her face. Saints have mercy - he’s right. The sole act of seeing eye to eye with the blond man isn’t as terrible as the act of admitting it and stroking his ego. “I hate to say it but I agree,” she grits through her teeth.

Nikolai notices her discomfort. He doesn’t hide a certain satisfaction in the effect he has on her - it’s amusing to see her paper mache confidence falter, although he is painfully aware that this will prove problematic later on. “Oh my, I might think you actually tolerate me.”

She forces herself into a contemptuous scowl - it’s a little overdone to be considered natural. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Alina dismisses him.

“You know, I might be an incredible captain and all but without her…” Sturmhond shakes his head. His eyes follow your barely noticeable movements as you weave the net back together. “This whole ship would have already sunk.”

But she doesn’t believe him - not entirely. If she is to believe Tamar, and Alina doesn’t have much reason not to, Sturmhond chose Volkvolny despite having more captain-worthy vessels available. “Somehow, I don’t believe you’d allow that.”

“Right. If she wasn’t on this ship, I wouldn’t be either.”

Alina almost comes to the conclusion that you’re the sole reason he chose Volkvolny to be his flagship but she mostly dismisses that thought - Sturmhond may be doting but he’s far from completely losing his mind. He simply doesn’t give the impression of someone who’d shuffle his life around just to be able to creep on his boatswain. Little did she know at the time but the strangeness and dread the future holds is going to prove her wrong.

Their conversation is halted when one of the sailors on night watch passes by them. Alina recognizes him by the burn mark spreading across the right side of his face. Tolya called him ‘Marquis’. His long, blond hair sway in the cold wind. As he’s carrying a heavy crate from starboard to port, he’s quietly singing along to your song with certain carelessness as though he’s not entirely aware he’s doing it:

“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me-”

Alina yawns. She’s had a long, exciting day and tomorrow is not going to be any easier, that she’s sure of. Whatever she wants to tell Sturmhond will have to wait until dawn when the captain wriggles free of his heart’s restless desires. Even though at first she’s annoyed that she has to wait because Sturmhond decided to play a lovesick teenager, she quickly finds it may be for the best: an in-depth discussion will surely erupt between the two of them and doing so when the moon is high just doesn’t seem like the best idea. Aside from that, she can really use a few more hours of sleep.

The Sun Summoner murmurs something resembling ‘Goodnight’ to Sturmhond and turns around to go back to the room she shares with Tamar, when a great wave shakes the ship, throwing her against a wooden wall. Despite the impact not being exceptionally painful to her, she’s sore anyway, the sound of it carried quite well.

Hearing a thud, you look up out of reflex. Glancing around the deck, your watchful eyes stop on Sturmhond, who’s staring back at you. The privateer gives the impression that you’ve just become privy to a side of him he’s not so keen on showing. Perhaps ‘side’ doesn’t quite mirror the idea. ‘Layer’ seems more fitting. It’s as though he dropped the facade of quick wit and evasive answers, only to show the exhaustion of a man carrying the world on his shoulders for a day too long. Despite the silence and distance between you, this staring feels intimate; both of you are showing something raw to one another in the gullible hope that the other will keep it secret.

He appears different, more calm than smug, than he does during the day, although still beautiful enough to make you flustered. Truly, he looks like he breaks the hearts of naive girls for a living. Despite that, as well as your experience with sailors in general, you found yourself craving his attention. Whether it’s intentional or not, Sturmhond has the ability to make people feel seen and their efforts acknowledged. Considering that establishing your position among sea dogs as a woman is a real challenge, maybe it was your hurt ego that clawed at any possibility or delusion of your exceptionalism. And maybe the privateer never intended for you to be hopelessly in love with him. Sure, the two of you have flirted back and forth but you never assumed it means as much to him as it does to you. It’s just the way he is, right?

A sharp, stinging pain in your finger makes you yelp. Discarding fantasies about the blond man in an awful frock coat, you look at your sore hand, now noticing a drop of crimson slowly rolling down your skin.

“Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself.

You put the bleeding finger against your lips. It’s a small cut, it shouldn’t bleed longer than a minute or two and then you can get back to-

“Are you alright?”

Sturmhond’s worried tone elicits mixed but engaging feelings from you. On one hand, you’re giddy at any crumb of attention he gives you. On the other hand, you just failed at the second easiest maintenance job a ship can have - one Hell of a way to make a good impression on the captain that always seems to fall on four paws.

“Yeah, just pricked my finger with a needle fixing the net. Nothing fatal.”

“Why are you doing this anyway? You’re a boatswain. This is a deckhand’s job,” he says as he grabs the net from your hands and tosses it aside.

“Believe it or not but I actually enjoy this. It’s peaceful, helps me get my mind off of things.”

He gives you a cocky half-grin. “Pricking your finger is just a tasteful addition, I presume?”

“Oh, you know, just trying to enrich things,” you joke back.

Sturmhond lets out a quiet, resigned sigh. Of course, you told everyone to go to sleep and finished the odd jobs yourself. “Have Tamar look at this,” he says in a soft voice. Despite the suddenly mild demeanour, his smug expression stays in place. “I’ll get someone else to finish.”

“Alright, captain,” you reluctantly agree. “But can it wait a few minutes? I like it here.”

Your gaze returns to the sapphire waves and black firmament, the line of horizon barely distinguishable between them. To your own surprise, Sturmhond sits down next to you on a barrel. “Just a few,” he says insincerely. You may not know it but he’s willing to sit there with you for much longer than a few minutes.

Volkvolny bobs on the waves, headed somewhere in the South-East direction. Cold water sprays on your face and clothes but you don’t mind it. It’s quite refreshing. Only now do you notice how quiet the ship is. Most of the crew must already be asleep, revelling in the few hours of rest they have until dawn. The thought of sleeping sailors makes you aware of your own exhaustion, both physical and mental.

You barely stifle a yawn. Too tired to think twice, you lay your head against Sturmhond’s shoulder. He doesn’t shy away, quite the contrary - he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to his torso ever so slightly. He smells like expensive, imported cologne and seaweed. The fragrance is hardly likable but you’ve grown to earn some masochistic pleasure from it simply because it belongs to him. The blue frock coat he’s wearing feels nice against your skin.

“Why do you always sing that song?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.

“I always sing or hum doing manual jobs. It’s a habit I can’t kill,” you answer quietly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open and you can hear your words starting to slur. “I grew up in Novokribirsk. I know a lot of shanties.”

“Know anything happier than mourning a sailor?”

“Hardly,” you let out a tired chuckle. “Somehow, sailors have an aversion to happy songs. There’s one you might like.” You clear your throat, trying to recall the song from your cloudy, tired memories. “I’m a broken man on the Os Kervo pier, the last of Ravka’s privateers.”

Sturmhond furrows his eyebrows and he shakes his head in disapproval. “No, it’s still depressing.” Whether he means to or not, his finger is gently brushing circles against your arm.

“Alright, another one, um… Oh! Don’t haul on the ropes, don’t climb up the mast. If you see a sailing ship, it might be your last.”

“Ominous and tedious. I’m actually surprised you can put both in one song.”

To Sturmhond’s dissatisfaction, you pull away from him. Still, the distance between you is considerably small and you feel each other’s breaths on your skin. With half-lidded eyes out of exhaustion, you give him a wide smile. His breath shakes in his chest.

“You know, you might be the most optimistic sailor I’ve ever met,” you confess.

He could kiss you right now. Saints only know how much he wants to. If the odds are in his favour, and his vanity would like to think they are, you might even kiss him back. Or at least not slap him. Would your lips feel soft and warm against his? Would you taste of saltwater and rye bread like he always imagines? Would you giggle nervously after? In that specific way that makes him forget to breathe?

But Sturmhond can only hope your tired mind can’t compute his nervousness. “Does that title come with a prize?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Is being the most optimistic sailor truly worth such honour?” he says in an overly dramatic tone. He jokingly puts his hand on his chest. “Are you not underestimating your presence, my lady?”

“You get extra credit because I like you. A lot.”

Sturmhond swallows nervously. Since when does he get nervous around women? For a moment you’re just staring at each other again. The desire to push his lips against yours is back flooding his mind, now stronger and more desperate than before. The first chance might have been a coincidence but the second… He slowly leans in, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. But you look just as lovely as you did in the morning. His nose almost brushes yours and-

“I might have a happy one,” you suddenly speak up. You look back at the sea, furrowing your eyebrows in deep thought. “Saints, how did it go?” you whisper to yourself. “Prick your finger, it is done. Roll her out and spread her wings, the time has come for better things.”

Having mastered self-control, Sturmhond doesn’t make his disappointment visible. The third time’s the charm, right? “First one that doesn’t make me want to drown myself.” The bitterness in his voice is almost inaudible but you’re too tired to notice.

“I’ll sing you the whole thing but that has to wait until morning, alright?”

“I’m holding you to that.”

His heart quickens its beat when you lay your head back on his shoulder. He should probably tell you to go back to your berth and get some sleep but maybe it can wait a few minutes? He likes it here.

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thecertifiedboykisser · 5 months ago

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I'm not sure if people are still talking about this but I saw some people being confused on how mystic flour is in the cocoon and not the tree and I think the 'forks' or the beasts prisons, in the first trailer weren't all in one area.

For context, at the end of chapter two of beast yeast, white lily seals the tree back up, trapping shadow milk cookie again. I saw a few posts saying that if lily sealed it how has mystic flour been in the cocoon for so long?

I don't think the witches were stupid enough to put all the beasts in one area. If the worst-case scenario happened and the beasts got free (like is happening now) It would be easier to manage if they weren't together. They could cause a lot more damage even to a smaller area together than if they were apart.

As shown below, the tree was almost in the center of the prisons, a way to hold them together and keep them locked away.

I think that the tree was just Shadow milk's prison, no one else's. The way he popped out of the tree at the end of chapter one makes me think he was actually in there, but I think I was only him.

A lot of people made the connection that he has attachments to the blueberry yogurt (?) Academy, the school that while Lilly and PV went to. I don't think he lived in beast yeast but in Crispia, so they didn't have a place they could store him thus, into the tree he goes.

But that tangent over, Mystic flour was most likely trapped by the witch's in her cocoon, but cloud haetae cookie said she entered it, so I'm thinking that A- She was lying to them, or B- she made it for herself and entered and the witches were like "Fuck yeah, she did it for us" and just kinda kept her from getting out by attaching it to the tree.

But, the cocoon was empty besides the giant enemy spider. Mystic flour wasn't there! I have two theories. A- That was mystic flour, or more like what she became. She talks so much about the cycle, and I don't think she's immune to it. She said she was almost there but didn't reach it. I think she turned into that spider in the cocoon. Bugs normally enter cocoon for a while to transform into something new or better.

(Side note, I'm not really taking much that mystic flour cookie said in the story but more focusing on what actually happened. Not the dialog, and I think she's at least partially unreliable as she's trying to convince DC all I'd futile.)

Or theory B- Her dough was taken to the tree, but her spirit and power were left there. If that makes sense, (her dough wasn't with her soul jam or actual soul.) She made the spider for whoever tried to open it up or (the more likely one) as a lure to DC after doing a plauge be apon ye to him.

The beasts are awoken but not free yet. They can create chaos and issues for the ancients to get them to go to beast yeast but they are still trapped in there prisons. The seal kept them from going actively but the damage was already done. They want to be free and they want there powers.

Also the seal probably sustained heavy damage even after it was fixed by white lily. Sure she fixed it but I doubt it's at full strength, allowing the chains a bit of slack in a way.

Though, this is all just theory's and me putting together parts of the lore to make this with my Sorta good media literacy skills. We will probably find out more next update!

Tldr- The prisons are in different areas of beast yeast, Shadow milk was probably trapped in the tree himself, Mystic flour cocoon was her prison and the spider may have been her or just a way to rid of DC if he didn't sucum to flour, the beasts aren't physically in the world yet but can still do things.

#cookie run #shadow milk cookie #mystic flour cookie #beast yeast #thank god for royal mike on YT that man is a savior.#half of this is just me rambling #crk #cr kingdom #cookie run theory #its not good but still a theory #Devsis pls drop the next update i need more lore.

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incorrectmahabharatquotes · 20 days ago

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On Mahabharat and the Agency of Women in the epic

If you saw me post the actual reply to this, no, you didn't. I'm so sorry, anon. I accidentally posted the unfinished draft. I will correct my mistake here. I am prefacing all the following words with: That's Just My Opinion, You're Allowed To Have Your Own Opinions.

There's a short answer and a long answer to this ask.

The short answer is: in my opinion, women didn't have a lot of agency. But they were still significant, in the sense that they are so central to the plot that the epic would not exist without the roles they play. If you take any one of them away, the story would be changed inexorably.

The long answer depends on what you would consider as "agency" and what version specifically you are thinking of.

I can talk about Sanskrit text that we have access to and is generally considered as the Original and True version(I don't agree with this and can go on a great big rant about this. In a different post, maybe.)

To lay the groundwork for my explanation, you have to remember how the current Sanskrit text came into being. Originally, the Mahabharat was part of the oral stories told by suta bards(who used to accompany kings into battles as their charioteers and after the battles, would recount the battle and tell glorified and embellished stories about it). It was only written down MUCH later(multiple centuries later) by some brahmins roughly around the time the Yajur Veda were being composed. The oral versions were only one quarter of the length of the written version. So during the writing portion we can assume they added a lot more stuff (which tracks because when you read it, you can clearly see the difference between the story plot beats and the brahminical morality propaganda bits) This context is important. Please keep this in mind.

The mahabharat is a historical document but not in the sense some people would have you believe. It's a document of SOCIAL history at the time it was composed. It reflects the norms, laws and morality of the culture that they were composed and codified in.

As such, you have a story that is conflicted about how it feels about certain topics. Polyandry being one of them. It was probably a more common occurrence back in the ye old oral storytelling years. We see a lot of instances of women having multiple partners. And these instances are so intrinsically linked to the essence of the story that it's hard to get rid of them. Now we move forward to the time when it was being written down, where polyandry is frowned upon, if not outright forbidden, but you have the issue of Draupadi having five husbands being integral to the story. Hence, you have MULTIPLE attempts to reason it away. The incarnation reason, the five blessings reasons, the regenerating "virginity" etc. Those guys(the aforementioned Brahmin writers) were struggling to present her as a unique situation and make sure that we know that polyandry is NOT acceptable but in this one case, because of Special Divine Reasons, we have to let it slide.

Now we come to the "agency" part. That's a little more difficult because everyone has different mileage of what they consider to be as an active character.

What I can tell you is that we barely get any internality from the female characters in the Sanskrit text. There are a few scenes thrown in sporadically but they have an extreme case of "the writer doesn't view women as actual people". There's also the Stree Parva which, on paper, is all about the women and their grief after the war but even that sort of focuses all the attention on the men, both dead and alive(including their unborn male fetuses).

What matters when it comes to women, according to the epic, are their bodies. Both in the sexual and reproductive contexts. Women are always described by their external appearance(mostly their hips and thighs) and by extensions, their sexuality. (I've lost count of how many times a mysterious wind will strip a woman completely naked so that a bunch of men can stare at her or worse, EJACULATE upon seeing her. They even did that shit to Ganga and she's GANGA. Divine river goddesses are not immune to this shit trope.) Women will often be abducted for marriage and it's just considered as a kshatriya norm of the time. There are multiple instances of being compared to empty containers(bags or fields) for a man's seed(semen). And ironically, they consider the children as copies of the father alone and that there is nothing of the mother in the said children. (This obviously reflects how society at the time was obsessed with the patrilineal lines of succession to maintain patriarchy and control over land and wealth.)

Most of the rare instances of women having some power and agency in the epic come from these two contexts, i.e. having some control over the sexual access of men over their bodies OR having control over their children.

Women didn't typically have rights to succession to the land, wealth and property of their family. In fact, in Chitrangada's case, who does succeed the kingdom after her father this is considered a rare and unique case worthy of note.

This is not to say that the female characters of the Mahabharat aren't interesting or strong. I'm merely telling you how the Sanskrit text narrative treats these characters because of the writers' own biases and viewpoints.

Beyond the Sanskrit text, you have many other versions who will often expand upon the roles of the women. Some regional Mahabharats delete or add scenes according to their own norma. A lot of folk stories breathe life and dimensionality to these women by giving them more to say. Multiple famous plays over the year have given a more gentle and kind touch to the female characters of the cast of this epic.

In the modern contemporary context, everyone is obsessed with writing a feminist retelling(the success of just how feminist said retellings are is a different matter entirely).

If you do find any fault in how active the characters are, the blame often lies at the hand of the storyteller rather than the character themselves.

(P.S. Before anyone gets furious and starts typing an angry anon about how women were "considered goddesses and therefore it means that they had a lot of power", I want to remind everyone that deification often reduces the figure into an inhuman entity and isn't as far from objectification as you would like to think.)

-Mod S

#long post #mahabharat #desiblr #hindublr #epics #literary epics #mythology #hindu epics #hindu mythology #Mahabharata #not an incorrect quote #asks #ask reply #mod replies #I'm tired #mod s is always tired #mod: s

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