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syndrossi · 22 days

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Reverberate AU Concept #1

Aka "what if Resonant!Daemon woke up in the Stepstones shortly after the twins' conception, resolved the first Stepstones conflict in record time, and flew back to Runestone to convince Rhea to announce the pregnancy as her own?"

I may eventually throw these up on AO3, but for now, enjoy them on Tumblr in their roughly hewn form. (There's a second part/scene in progress but it's not directly related to this one.)

x~x~x

“No,” his son said, his first word and his favorite since.

His grey eyes were fixed on the spoon and its cargo of cooked peas in Daemon’s right hand. With his left, Daemon brought the other spoon to Rhaegar’s mouth, and his other son opened his mouth dutifully for a bite.

Daemon moved the full spoon back and forth, mimicking a roaring dragon descending, and brought it right up to Jon’s closed lips. His son’s stare found Daemon’s, deeply unimpressed.

“There are foods other than carrot,” Daemon informed him with a sigh.

He moved to feed the rejected peas to Rhaegar, but now his other son was in rebellion. Daemon tried another dragon maneuver, and his other son’s purple eyes sparked with delight, allowing access. Two more fiery whooshes of the dragon finished off the peas, and Daemon moved on to the finely-diced carrot, which Jon immediately demanded.

If Rhea were in the room, she would scold him for caving to Jon’s demands, but Daemon had never been able to deny them anything. She could be the villain instead, if she so desired. Jon made short work of the carrot, which Rhaegar ate more sparingly, his eyes drawn to the final bowl, which Daemon uncovered with a flourish.

“This,” Daemon said, dipping the spoons next into the gooey mass of blueberries cooked down to a thick, nearly jam-like consistency, “is blueberry.”

Blueberry was a new, messy favorite for both of them, Jon’s indignation over the insult of peas entirely forgotten as they finished the small bowl in record time. Rhaegar got fussy when he was left sticky, so Daemon was quick to wipe their faces with a damp cloth after.

With the completion of their meal came Rhaegar’s daily demand. “Zaldis!”

Zaldrīzes, the very first word his other son had decided to attempt. Far more ambitious than “no,” but certainly less intelligible.

“If we are to ride Caraxes, we will have to sneak past your mother,” he informed his sons.

She fretted about him taking them out in the waning last days of winter, which was a far bitterer cold here than they would have been in King’s Landing, but he had wanted his first year with them to be as safe as he could arrange. His brother had no reason to assign special guards for them at Daemon’s behest, though perhaps he would have.

At Runestone, he did not need to ask. Daemon had informed Rhea that the enemies he had made in the decisive victory over the Triarchy in the Stepstones might seek to target the twins, and they were promptly assigned their own knight to protect them, her cousin Willam.

It was not the Triarchy he feared, of course, but Volantis. The Free City seeking to steal his children as infants or toddlers now that they were known to the world from a young age was a possibility he would not risk ignoring.

“You must be at your most quiet,” he instructed, to solemn blinks from either. They were bright, even so young, at times seeming to understand him perfectly.

Daemon bundled them into thick furs, taking care to make sure their heads and ears were covered, until only small wisps of black and silver escaped along the sides of their round little faces. He grinned at the sight of them swallowed by the furs, nearly spherical in either arm, and crept out with his bounty, both utterly silent for the entirety of the walk to Caraxes’s enclosure.

There was a trace of warmth in the light breeze, a promise of spring, and the air lacked the bite of months before. When spring came, Daemon guessed, it would come quickly to melt the snow that remained on the ground.

Caraxes snuffed at his sons, and they both happily babbled at the dragon for the few minutes Daemon left them on the ground beside him to fetch his own personal saddle, as he’d taken to calling it. He secured them to it first before fastening the straps around his own chest, and when he was finished, he had one on either side of his back, peering over his shoulders.

Mindful of the maester’s many lectures on how much fresh air was acceptable for infants, he kept the flight short, guiding Caraxes along the northern shoreline before completing a wide circle around the outer perimeter of Runestone, landing back at the enclosure to a welcoming party of Ser Willam and his lady wife herself, her lips pursed in disapproval.

Daemon approached her unapologetically after dismounting, his two passengers giggling their glee at the ride, until her frown began to waver.

“I promised Jon he could have a dragon ride if he ate his peas,” Daemon said.

Rhea’s eyebrows crept up, her gaze shifting to his right shoulder. “And did you, Jon?”

“No!” Jon exclaimed, expressing far too much merriment in his betrayal for Daemon to do anything but smile.

“Rhaegar ate his peas,” Daemon said. “I could hardly leave one of them behind.”

Rhea walked up to him, her intention plain, and Daemon crouched so that she could reach each of their cheeks for a kiss. “You must not encourage your father. He is more than capable of doing so of his own accord.”

Daemon begrudgingly surrendered them to her for the walk back to the castle, their destination his wife’s solar with its large hearth, already radiating heat into the chamber. Tea, piping hot, was brought up from the kitchens, and once Daemon had finished unwrapping his sons from their layers of fur, and set them upon it with their beloved dragon dolls within reach, he poured himself a cup and settled on the floor beside them.

“Did you seek me out for a particular reason?” Daemon asked, knowing that as much as Rhea might fret about the dragon excursions, she no longer believed he would endanger them in any way.

“A raven arrived from King’s Landing.” She grabbed her own cup and sat in one of the chairs by the hearth, tossing him a rolled up slip of parchment. “From the king himself.”

Ignoring the twist of apprehension in his stomach, Daemon broke the seal and unfurled the parchment, scanning it quickly for any unwelcome surprises. The contents, however, though not particularly welcome, were not a surprise. “My brother has a new son. We are invited to King’s Landing.” He handed the letter to her. “He is still set on throwing a tourney for the twins, and plans to tie it with celebrations of his son’s birth.”

If there was one lesson his brother had learned at long last, it was not to celebrate births before they happened.

Rhaegar had crawled to Rhea’s chair to tug insistently at the laces of her boots. She scooped him onto her lap, holding him there as she read the letter herself. “Six moons. Spring will surely be upon us by then. The seas should be calmer.”

“Choppy water is little concern to a dragon,” Daemon said.

“It is to those of us who must travel by ship,” she retorted.

It would be at least two weeks by sea, and even in spring, not a pleasant voyage. Daemon hesitated, then said, “Come with us on Caraxes. The saddle seats two.”

The offer caught her off guard, her eyes narrowing briefly in suspicion as though she thought he was not being earnest. “You have not let me ride with you before.”

You have not asked, Daemon almost said, before remembering his very first arrival at Runestone—less than a decade ago to Rhea, but nearly two for him. He had been bitterly furious about the marriage, escorted there by his own father on Vhagar, as though he might try to flee otherwise. His new wife had borne the brunt of Daemon’s resentment, his interactions with her curt. When she had asked him if they might ride on Caraxes together, he had coldly informed her that such privileges were for Targaryens alone.

“Jon and Rhaegar will want you there,” Daemon said, by way of excuse.

“Zaldis,” Rhaegar said solemnly to her.

“Very well,” Rhea said, her expression now one she often wore in his company—as though she were not quite sure what to make of him. “It would be an honor.”

It was a matter of pragmatism as well. Rhea’s confession to treason on her deathbed had settled any doubts about her truly being his sons’ mother. Here, it was still possible that a whisper or two in King’s Landing about Lady Elys also being present at the family’s summer home at the time of birth could raise suspicion. The more amicable his relationship with Rhea in the eyes of the realm, the less likely anyone would be to question—or question successfully, at least.

Daemon retreated to the desk to write a response to his brother’s letter, a frown finding him midway through. His sons’ sworn shield, Ser Willam, would have to travel by ship, which meant they would be without protection for a time in King’s Landing. Viserys should be able to spare at least one of his Kingsguard until he’s arrived, he decided finally, including a request for such in his letter. He can have his damned tourney in return.

By the time he had finished, both of his sons had started fussing for their linens to be changed, which was one of the few tasks he happily let their nurse handle, taking a small meal of his own before rejoining them in the nursery. They were sleepy with milk when he arrived, fresh from the wetnurse’s breast, and he eagerly reclaimed them, kissing each soft cheek as he carried them back to the solar, where their cradle was kept.

It was an elaborate piece, with an intricate relief of two dragons perched vigilantly at the head of the cradle, sized for two babes, rather than one. He’d commissioned it the very day he had arrived back in Runestone to confront Rhea about Elys’s pregnancy, and if the woodworker had wondered about his confidence about having twins, he had kept his curiosity to himself.

It only saw use during the day, when his sons napped. At night, they slept with him. He had lain awake for most of the first few nights, terrified that he might somehow crush them in his sleep, but that fear had eventually subsided. The fear of someone taking them from him, however—that had not.

He watched them sleep from his chair by the hearth. They stalked you from the shadows before, and struck in broad daylight. Has it begun yet? Do they watch us even now?

One of the posts on his brother’s small council that he had not yet held—and subsequently been dismissed from—was that of master of whisperers. With the Stepstones claimed for now and its crown bestowed upon his brother, he had been promised a favor. A position on his small council would certainly be within reason.

But it would require moving his family to King’s Landing. Once, he would have wanted nothing more than to escape Runestone and return home. But even just the past year he had spent in the Vale, first anticipating his sons’ arrival and then raising them since, had shifted the castle from a hated prison to something almost like a sanctuary.

How do I protect you? He reached into the cradle, stroking the back of Jon’s small hand, which immediately curled around his forefinger in response, his grip strong. Daemon smiled. When will you first demand a dagger to wield?

He repeated the motion with his other hand on Rhaegar, who also instinctively grabbed for his finger. Daemon recalled the first few weeks after their birth, when his younger son would wail whenever he tried to hold him or even approach. That phase had fortunately passed. These days, Rhaegar happily demanded dragon rides and cuddles.

“You have trapped me,” he murmured, keeping his voice quiet so as not to wake them.

He could feel Rhea’s eyes on him from where she worked at her desk. All their marriage, she had built him up as a monster in her head: selfish, cruel, ambitious. When he had hurried on Caraxes to Runestone to find both Rhea and her sister in the midst of drafting their proposal to Corwyn Redfort, he had nearly flown into a rage. Instead, he had confronted her about all that she sought to steal from him, every moment he had mourned since rescuing them from the Vale the first time, equal parts fury and grief.

She had not looked at him the same since. Daemon wondered if she struggled as he did when he tried to reconcile his own hatred for what she had done to him before with her newfound tolerance. That first exchange had been—heated. Daemon’s infidelity, after all, had been the very reason for the pregnancy. Yet she had been willing to hear his proposal and forgo her own honor to offer the twins a life free of the stain of bastardry.

“Do you regret your choice?” he asked, turning to her.

Rhea regarded him with a raised brow. “Have I given you cause to believe so?” She rose from her desk to approach the cradle, gazing down at the twins with a smile that did not fully reach her eyes. “I feel guilty that I may have them, and my sister may not. It is—difficult on her.”

Elys had been forced to stay behind at the summer estate after their departure with the twins, though they had remained there for the first week. Daemon’s jaw clenched, and he shifted his gaze back to the cradle. He did not regret taking them for his own, but the pain and loss in their true mother’s eyes as they had been plucked from her arms for the final time reminded him uncomfortably of his own grief at their childhood having been stolen from him.

“When enough time has passed, I do not see why they should not know the company of their aunt.”

But enough time could very well be another year or two. First she would need to be safely wed, perhaps with another child on the way that would be trueborn and hers to keep.

By the shake of her head, he guessed that Rhea was thinking the same. She reached out her hand toward Jon, only to pull back at the last moment. “I cannot help but feel that I have stolen them.”

And yet you felt no such guilt in taking them from me. He swallowed that old anger, then wondered if it had been her reason for only seeking them out twice a year. Whether they would always feel stolen to her.

“Do not let that stop you from loving them,” Daemon said, earning another of those uncertain looks. He fought back a frown, misliking the sense of being constantly evaluated and reevaluated. “They deserve a mother’s love.”

“Though you would rather it not be mine,” she said with a hint of challenge.

“It does not matter what I want,” Daemon replied, feeling himself grow heated. “It is a matter of what they need.”

Their raised voices had woken Rhaegar, who was peering upward at them now, his purple eyes fixed on Daemon. They had darkened some since birth, from a lilac that had immediately recalled his uncle Aemon, to something closer to the darker violet he remembered. Rhaegar’s brow furrowed, the beginning of a whimper forming in his throat, and Daemon quickly began humming a lullaby as he rocked the cradle back and forth.

Rhaegar settled eventually, snuggling into Jon’s side, and they sat in silence for several minutes as Daemon continued to rock and hum.

“I do love them,” Rhea said eventually, voice lowered to a whisper so as not to disturb the sleeping infants again. “I had grown resigned that I would never have children of my own. To have them, but in a manner so steeped in dishonor, both yours and mine own—”

“They live,” Daemon interrupted. “They breathe.” He leaned in to kiss their tiny foreheads. “How can there be dishonor in that?”

Rhea fell silent, watching them for a time, before leaning in to do the same. As she pulled back, Jon’s eyes opened to fix upon her. The hint of purple in them at birth had since faded, almost lost now within the pensive grey. Rhea stared at Jon, as though trapped by his gaze, then leaned in to kiss his cheek as well.

Daemon overcame his reluctance and rose to give her space. “It is your turn to sing.”

#resonant 'verse reverberate au #resonant 'verse au concepts

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the-real-team-starkid · 4 months

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General Access Sale for Cinderella's Castle Tickets!

Tickets are now available for purchase for Cinderella's Castle!

You can purchase tickets for the show by going to the following link:

Cinderella's Castle Ticket Link

We've received some questions about whether seats will be assigned for the performance. Here’s how the seating arrangement will work:

Three Tiers of Seating

Tier 1: Priority Seating Guests with Tier 1 tickets will have priority access and will be allowed into the theatre first to choose their seats.

Tier 2: General Seating After Tier 1 guests are seated, Tier 2 ticket holders will be let in to select their seats.

Tier 3: Standard Seating Finally, Tier 3 guests will be allowed to enter the theatre and choose their seats.

How It Works

Tickets will not be assigned to specific seats. Instead, seating will be on a first-come, first-served basis within each tier. VIP Tickets have already been held on the selected nights and roped off.

Entry by Tier: On the night of the performance, entry to the theatre will be coordinated by the producer and theatre staff to ensure a smooth process.

Seating Coordination: We will make sure each tier has ample time to find seats, ensuring a comfortable experience for everyone.

Thank you for your understanding and cooperation. We look forward to seeing you at Cinderella's Castle!

#starkid #cinderella's castle #kickstarter #thelandsthatare #team starkid

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ollypopwrites · 6 months

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Our Sweet Remedy

Gale x Fem!Tav [AFAB, she/her]

Rating: Explicit [18+ MDNI]

Word count: 2.8k

Request: 69 or DP with Gale by anon!

Warnings: Smut (oral [f and m receiving, face fucking, cum swallowing], Gale’s projection double participates [PiV], double penetration, fingering), dirty talk, Dom!Gale (and he is condescending lmao, but no degradation), after care, safe and consensual check ins. Changing POV (Tav then Gale).

Notes: there is so little plot here I don’t know what to say. No beta reader, only Ao can judge me. Also idk if it’s mirror image Gale uses for his projection? Sorry if that that is not lore accurate.

My Ao3

Tav felt she may have to sit down and chat with Gale about his inability to just lay back and receive every once in a while.

It was post-exam season, and her overachieving fiance, had just spent many days cooped up in the study grading and reading final assignments. But it was finally over and they were celebrating the completion of his first full term as a professor at Blackstaff. A night out so neither of them had to cook and a bottle of wine to end the evening.

With Gale wrapped up in his work, it had been up to Tav to arrange everything. Her plans for the night had so far gone exactly as they ought to, they made it to their reservation for dinner, the walk to and from the tower had been exactly on time and when they got through the door he was amenable to being ordered upstairs.

This was where the plan went awry. She had meant to get on her knees, and give him some well-deserved admiration. Gale, however, after what felt like weeks of being drowned in work and only seeing glimpses of his betrothed was feeling clingy and needy.

Instead of having his cock in her mouth from her knees, she was draped alongside him on the bed. His hands roamed over her sides, taking in each curve, grabbing onto flesh when she did something he particularly liked. The groans and murmured praises spurred her on, happy to be able to please him and offer him some reprieve.

His fingers trailed her thighs, nudging them apart. She allowed it, for the moment, a pleased yet shocked squeal leaving her when he ran through the seam of her, dipping his fingers inside of her when he found her wet.

She pulled off him to lift her head, and remind him she was doing something for him for once when she caught him bringing his fingers into his mouth. Rendered momentarily speechless, body pulsing with a renewed need, Tav licked her lips.

“Humor me?” He asked.

“This — hey!” She felt him grabbing her thighs, attempting to pull her onto his body. “Gale, tonight is supposed to be about you.”

“Believe me, my love,” he said, not giving up his intent so Tav had to acquiesce, “this is for me.”

Another pulse of excitement coursed through her. Not meaning to be outdone, Tav at least acknowledged that this gave her better access to his cock. Her body now settled over his, with her thighs bracketing his sides as he leaned against the headboard with her presented for him as he grabbed at her ass. She worked him into her mouth with renewed vigor, not letting up even when he began his usual maddening work on her with his tongue.

For a while she was too lost to the sensation of him groaning above her to truly acknowledge how worked up she was getting. When she took him further into her mouth, as far as she could, he sucked hard on her clit with a moan and she felt her entire body go rigid.

There was something incredibly enticing about feeling so much pleasure while he was buried in her throat. She pulled up for air and not one to be outdone, Gale went in more fervently.

She was quickly rising to her climax, and she was losing focus. Pumping him in her hand with his head in her mouth, she kept being distracted by the sensations.

“You’re distracting me,” she whined.

No response, just more incessant working of her that made her want to give up entirely on the task at hand and languish in his talents.

Her own hands wrapped around his hips, to grab at his ass and pull him further into her mouth so he would get the message. He hesitated, gently thrust and when she moaned he allowed himself shallow jerky movements. A half-formed groan escaped him and his grip grew tighter on her thighs.

Tav’s mind went blissfully blank, truly degenerate moans came out around the slight muffle of him thrusting in and out of her mouth and then something snapped.

It was hard to tell if Gale gave the hard thrust into her throat or if she pushed herself down onto him, but it hardly mattered. Mouth full of him, her toes curled, her legs shook and her hips had to be held firmly to keep from jolting and moving from the sensation of his mouth.

After it passed she took him out of her mouth to laugh, a bit delirious at what had just happened.

“Alright, my love?”

He sounded strained, and she could see why. His cock was rigid, pulsing slightly and she knew he was close. She hummed an affirmative and without distraction went back to work on rewarding her wizard for a successful first term not thinking much more of the turn of events.

Gale couldn’t forget it.

Perhaps it was that he had not considered how much time he was buried in work and now being able to reemerge he found himself constantly thinking about Tav’s reaction the other night. They went from enjoying each other's company as often as possible to intermittently due to his new work schedule to not at all during the exam season.

But regardless of it being a matter of being pent up or not. He was catching himself thinking about her reaction in the middle of benign conversations, eyes drifting to her mouth and wondering just what her expression had been when she came with his cock in her throat.

Blindly feeling it had been near enough to throw him over the edge. He had to see it.

They had discussed trying things with his ability to conjure a mostly tangible mirror image before. The idea had come to him after the topic of Halsin wanting to be an add on to their partnership while on the road had come up. It had been born of insecurity, a need to be more in order to keep her by his side , but after his concerns were put to rest the idea remained.

It remained on a loop, actually. The idea of filling her so completely that all she could feel was him.

When she climbed in his lap in the study a couple days later, as eager to make up for their time apart as he was, he decided he had to see if he could bring the fantasy to life.

Tav gasped when she felt the somewhat cool touch of the mirror image’s hand on her back. She looked over her shoulder, and the projection smiled at her. Naked and ready already, but not making any other move to touch Tav.

“Hello there,” she said and then turned back to Gale. “We finally giving this a go?”

“Only if you want to,” he said, cupping her face. “Say the word and he will be gone.”

Tav kissed him, and then bit her lip with a cheeky smile. “How do you two want me?”

Gale felt a blazing trail of excitement crawl up his spine, blood rushing. “Naked. On your hand and knees.” He added a gentlemanly, “please,” for good measure.

“Yes, saer,” she teased and crawled out of his lap to strip herself of her clothes and do as she was asked.

For a while he just watched as she took in the sensations of the spectral presence lavishing her in attention. There was a thrill in being able to see his hands grab at the flesh of her ass, to see himself squeeze her thighs and generally admire her body from his seat on the settee. A unique pleasure in watching but still knowing it was all him that made her whine impatiently, and when he allowed the projection to finally touch her she eased into it.

“How does it feel, my love?”

The projection slid fingers through her folds, not quite giving her clit the attention it needed.

“Ever the scholar,” she mused and then moaned as a spectral finger circled her entrance. “Feels good, a bit like the mage hand, honestly.”

Gale hummed.

“Off,” she half demanded tugging down at the hem of his shirt.

“Always so impatient,” he chuckled, removing his shirt anyway.

“And you’re always a tease,” she shot back. One of her hands came up to tug at his waistband this time. “These next.”

“Demanding, as well,” he replied, yet he moved to acquiesce. He sat down in front of her, still on the settee while his mirror image continued to rub and tease, purposely not touching where she truly wanted him to. His hand came to her cheek, “I’d very much like to preoccupy your mouth with something besides bossing me around. How do you tell me to stop?”

“Two taps,” she demonstrated on his thigh for good measure.

There was a challenge in her eyes, one that spurred him on. The urge to take very deep despite his constant reign on himself. Perhaps a hold over from his time dealing with the orb, but if there was one thing Tav was good at it was tempting him.

He pushed his thumb into her mouth, and she sucked on it before opening her mouth to make a show of running her tongue along the pad of his finger.

“The other night,” he said, eyebrows furrowing in sharp focus at the point where his finger met her tongue, “you took me so deeply when you came. Did you like it?”

She hummed an affirmative, her mouth coming off his hand to say, “I loved it.” Her hand reached for the base of his cock, bringing it towards her mouth.

He moved his hand into her hair, gripping tight enough to keep her head from moving any further. Behind her his double stopped immediately. A frozen moment of disbelief crossed over her face.

“Ask me.”

She breathed a half laugh, but the way she licked her lips betrayed her interest in his demand.

“May I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Ask me, nicely.”

A shudder overtook her. “Please, Gale, can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“You may,” he replied with a smile, hand coming out of her hair to allow her to move.

The first lick was teasing, but with every attention she paid to him the projection behind her rewarded her anew. Gale took the time to sit back and enjoy, her clever mouth working him at her own leisure and each soft noise of pleasure while she did made his jaw clench.

When the presence behind her slipped two fingers inside of her, he felt her stiffen and her mouth froze on him. She tried to get back to her task but each stroke of the fingers inside of her seemed to draw her away until she was just sitting there moaning with his cock in her mouth.

“That’s it,” Gale muttered. “Hold me in your mouth, my love, can you do that?”

A gentle nod was her reply and the projection behind her went to work. Gale’s breathing picked up, self-control hanging on by a fraying thread as he simply watched. Pre-cum dribbled out of him and the resulting squeal she gave before running her tongue over the tip of him had him questioning why he was waiting.

Tav’s first orgasm approached, and he watched with fond understanding of exactly how it would go. The rush of sudden impatience as her hips thrust back onto the fingers inside of her, the little noises she would make and the crinkled brow of focus as she let herself hone in on the rising sensation. Beautiful as usual.

“Gale,” she breathed, “I’m going to —“

“Ask.”

Her eyes shot open, meeting his, a new sort of awe struck intrigue perhaps at the commanding tone. “Please,” she said, tongue laving over the tip of him, “please let me come.”

“Open for me,” he said, hand coming back into her hair. When she did as he asked he gently guided her back onto him, “hold me here. Keep me right here while you fall apart.”

The projection was unrelenting, and Gale could hardly keep his hips steady with each little whine that came from Tav’s lips. Enraptured by the view, he was lost when her jaw went a bit slack, tongue pressed against the head of his cock in a last attempt to pleasure him as she tipped over the edge.

The final thread of self-control frayed; the projection of himself quickly readjusted so that the same time Gale thrust into her mouth its cock was also sinking into her heat.

Tav squealed in surprise around both intrusions, and Gale grit his teeth to stave off further thrusting in order to give her the chance to tap out. His lovely Tav simply looked up at him, corners of her lips turned up in a challenging smile even with her mouth full.

The desire to make her as mindless as he felt overtook and in unison both cocks began to thrust. Praise was all he could find himself to speak.

“Yes, my love, yes,” he whispered, “look at you, full of me.” He sucked in a sharp breath when she whined, the sensation causing a sweet vibration. “So beautiful, so good,” he breathed, “with such an eager mouth — and a dripping cunt for me.”

Her eyes blinked, slightly watery with a sharper thrust that he felt gag her slightly. But yet unwaveringly full of awe, full of admiration and devotion. Proof she was loving every second of this as much as him.

The projection pressed over her back, arm coming around to touch her clit in reward. A slightly manic sound left her, desperate and shocked. He knew she was probably still sensitive, he barely gave her time to recover from the last orgasm before he began the double ended onslaught of sensation. Her walls had probably still been fluttering around the slightly spectral intrusion of his double’s cock.

He swallowed hard. He almost wanted to take himself out of her mouth to hear her describe the feeling, but it would be too great a loss he decided. The unending string of muffled moans were enough of an indication for him.

At a particularly harsh thrust from his double he was knocked from her mouth, her head lolling and eyes closing. She was losing her focus.

“Keep my cock in your mouth, Tav,” he commanded, the projection ceasing all movement. Hips and hands stilling mid movement.

“Trying,” she whimpered. “Feels too good —“

Gale tightened the grip in her hair, guiding her back to where he wanted her, his hips thrusting steadily with a groan. “I’ve got you,” he muttered, “stay there.”

The projection started its onslaught again, with renewed gasps and choked off whimpers from Tav starting anew. He was steadily approaching the precipice, but unwilling to venture over until he saw for himself what it looked like to have her truly debauched.

The visage of him behind her was unrelenting, and he could see her beginning to reach that peak. Her eyes gave away the desperation she felt, and when he finally gave her permission he watched first her body begin to slouch unable to keep herself up as her knees slid further apart and her hips twitch.

Tav’s eyes went blissfully blank before they rolled back slightly, his thrusts into her mouth a bit easier as her jaw went slack.

“That's it, Tav,” he breathed. “Gods, you’re perfection.”

Without being able to look away he felt the control finally slip away. His hips thrust up in harsh long strokes that made her gag as he felt himself seize up with the release. It was met with sucking as Tav eased him through it.

Behind her the projection had faded with his lack of concentration. He took a few moments to admire her, lips swollen, glistening with saliva and breathing heavy.

“Come here,” he pulled her up off of the floor, and settled her on his lap. He kissed her sweaty forehead, her cheek and then finally her lips. “Alright?”

She nodded her head.

“I need to hear you say it, Tav.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Let’s stay like this, though, a little longer.”

His hands rubbed over her back, lips pressed to the crown of her head as they caught their breath. The glow of satiation still thrummed through his veins as he focused on the feel of her in his arms. Gratitude bloomed in his chest at her ability to make him feel safe enough to explore his desire to take for once, for trusting him.

“You’re filthy, Gale,” she giggled after a while, still looking a bit dazed.

“You’re one to talk,” he challenged.

“It wasn’t a complaint,” she assured him, letting herself nestle her face into the crook of his neck. “We are definitely doing that again.”

Thank you for reading 💜

#bg3 fanfiction #gale x tav #gale dekarios fanfic #gale dekarios smut #gale dekarios x tav #Olly writes

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silhouetteonpaper · 3 months

Text

Stoic

Part 2

Summary: When an organization threatens to destroy your families empire, your father immediately jumps into action by hiring security protection. Unaware of what that would entail, you’re unpleasantly surprised by the woman whose sole purpose to follow you around. Yelena Belova x Reader WC: 2,457 Warnings: Gun use, combat, teasing A/N: I am so happy with how this banner turned out!! I’m going to post the full version of my Yelena portrait later :)

STOIC

Your father warned you about the need for increased protection, but you didn’t realize he’d actually follow through with it. Owning one of the biggest corporations in the country, your father was always on his toes in keeping his empire safe from harm—unfortunately that meant you were in the direct path of any malice acts, being his daughter and the Managing Director of his company.

So, when the unimpressed blonde woman appeared in your office, you weren’t too happy. “How can I help you?” You ask as you sit down at your desk. The shiny plaque labeled ‘Managing Director’ is pointed right in her direction, making you confused as to what this unknown entity could possibly want.

“I’m assigned to you as security protection,” She states with a deadpan expression, her accent making you raise a brow. You’ve never seen this woman before, and your father never directly expressed the need for hired protection like this.

“Let me talk to my boss about this,” you stood from your desk, brushing past her to find your father amongst the floor full of offices. Taking a deep breath, you try to calm the frustration building inside your chest. Just talk to Dad and he’ll fix this, you reassure yourself.

“Your father is the one who hired me.” She adds, making you turn around to realize the blonde is following you. She knows you’re the daughter of the CEO, so that has to mean something. But you still aren’t keen on this arrangement, and hope there has to be some better explanation for this.

“You can stay in my office, I’ll only be a moment.” You tell her as you pick up the pace. She only chuckles, following in your stead.

“I get paid to follow you around, that’s literally my job.” Her remark makes you roll your eyes, the only thing stopping you from talking back being the CEO’s office right in front of you. Opening the door, a man in a suit sits at his desk typing away. His gaze quickly lifts with a smile that soon falls as he spots the blonde behind you.

“I think I know what this is about,” He sighs, closing his laptop. You press your lips together and nod, waiting for an explanation as the two of you stand before his desk. “Due to security breaches, I think it’s best we have hired protection. It’s just a precaution, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

You raise a brow, confused about his reasoning. Sure, there were security breaches almost every day, but why this time does it require a need for security personnel? “What security breaches, Dad?” You inquire with crossed arms.

He rubs his forehead while gathering his thoughts. “There’s a large organization that’s after some of our assets. Unfortunately for us, they know what they’re doing. There’s been some back and forth with them for a while, but recently they’ve acquired access to a portion of our servers.” He admits.

Your eyes widen at the idea of an attack on the company. No one has made it into any of the servers before; whoever this organization is, they certainly are something to fear. You try to shake the worrisome news for now as you realize the blonde overheard everything your father was saying.

“This is a private matter, please go wait in my office.” You assert. She only exchanges a glance with your father who shifts uncomfortably.

“Yelena is already familiar with the ongoing threats to the company,” He admits. Yelena. The anger inside of you bubbles upwards, a deep breath only doing so much to calm the storm. He told her and hasn’t even mentioned it to me. The feeling of betrayal laced the rising frustration, your father having told a stranger about the attacks before his own daughter.

He could clearly see your rising irritation at the situation, because he gave his best attempt to console you. “I know this is a lot at once, but please just let Yelena do her job. I can’t risk anything happening to you.” He expresses with a warm, pleading smile. You let out an exasperated sigh, knowing there’s only one thing stronger than your father’s work ethic—his love for you.

“Fine. But from now on, you include me in any part of keeping these threats at bay.” You insist before exiting his office with red-hot anger radiating off of you. Your father has trusted you with so much of this company, yet for some reason has left you out of the dangerous work. You’re not afraid of whoever this organization is; if anything, you’re willing to get your hands dirty to make sure no one takes down your family’s empire.

Your scheming is interrupted by the footsteps of Yelena following close behind, her presence already infuriating you. It’s already hard enough working in a large business as a woman, having a babysitter certainly won’t help your credibility.

Thinking about what your father said, you decide to give it a try. He’s right, it’s better to be safe than sorry when the stakes are this large, even if the situation is less than ideal. As you sit back at your desk, Yelena stationing herself by the door like before, you try to look on the bright side and swallow the remaining anger for now. What you don’t realize is just how much you’ll need her help.

—————

A few days of being joined at the hip with Yelena and you’re slowly going crazy. Not only does she follow you around at the office, she goes with you everywhere. She’s an interesting personality, consistently offering sarcastic comments that only she finds funny. Your father certainly isn’t risking anything, and it’s driving you insane.

You’ve been used to solitude your whole life; being an only child, your father always on business trips, and your mother leaving at a young age because ‘Dad is married to work’. It’s not something you mind, but it makes living with a shadow extremely difficult.

“I always thought rich people pay someone to go shopping for them,” Yelena discloses as the two of you walk to the nearest grocery store. The city is busy, but the two of you easily make haste from your penthouse apartment to your usual grocery store.

“I prefer to do it myself,” you respond as the store’s entrance doors slide open. Yelena only gives an honorable nod while you grab a shopping basket. The two of you make your way up and down the aisles, your focus mostly on the specific items you’re trying to locate. Your gaze is only pulled away when you notice Yelena places something of her own in the basket.

You look down at the blue box, “Mac and cheese? Really?” You question while eyeing both the blonde and the bright yellow picture. The artificial color makes you slightly disgusted, you’d never buy something like this for yourself.

“It’s delicious. I have to eat too,” Yelena reasons, throwing in a second box. You sigh, accepting her meal choice and stepping further down the aisle.

“You’re so immature,” You jab, still annoyed at her presence that follows you everywhere you go.

She laughs, “you’re the one who needs a babysitter. You seriously don’t know how to fight?” Her remark gets under your skin more than you’d like it to, the familiar frustration rising as you place a box of pasta in the basket.

“I think I could handle myself if there was ever a need to fight back,” You respond, just wanting her to stop talking. The one good thing about being away from the office was the stress-free environment, and Yelena was seeming to take that away. She only laughs, finally ceasing her remarks as you head to the checkout line.

You see that the store is suddenly pretty empty, the only open checkout having no line. After placing the items onto the conveyor, you fish through your purse to find your wallet. You’re almost too focused on searching through the clutter to hear the click noise that draws your attention up slowly.

A black pistol is held up to your head, your heart nearly stopping as the cashier holds it steady with a finger on the trigger. Silence fills the store, only broken by your heartbeat loudly thumping in your chest. You’re frozen and quickly realize you can’t handle yourself, he has you stuck and you have no choice but to accept whatever fate this leads to.

Yelena seems to have other plans, though, as her foot makes contact with the gun. The loudest bang you’ve ever heard echoes through the linoleum floors as you duck, the unknown of where the bullet landed filling you with dread.

The gun falls to the floor with a clatter as the blonde successfully disarms the man, quickly pushing his arm over the conveyer and slamming his head down onto the counter edge. He doesn’t move, his limp hand hanging off the side.

You slowly rise, taking into account every limb to be sure you didn’t get shot. You felt no pain, but your increased adrenaline made you unsure. Luckily, you escaped with no scratches, Yelena picking up the gun from the floor and pocketing it in her waistband.

“C’mon, we need to get out of here,” she says while heading towards the exit. You can’t move, your feet stuck to the ground as you stare at the lifeless body before you. You’ve never seen a dead body, you’ve never even seen a gun in person like this. Did I almost just die? Was he about to kill me? You think to yourself, spiraling into the anxiety your high heart rate aids.

“Hey,” Yelena tries to get through to you, walking back over and placing a hand on your shoulder. “We need to move.” You’re finally snapped out of your stall, swallowing thick tears as you follow the blonde. Stealing a few more glances of the lifeless body, you can’t help but realize there truly is a threat, and you’re their next target.

You find yourself back at home, the building security already alerted of the situation. You’re safe here, the vast amounts of security and tens of floors offering a buffer if anyone decides to try their luck.

Yelena sits on your couch, cleaning a small wound she earned from the short-lived battle. You’re curled up on the other end, sinking into the cushions as you repeat the scene from earlier over and over. The black gun held to your head, your heart pounding, the loud bang, the chaos, the fear of death. You never imagined taking on the role of Managing Director would lead to this.

“Are you hungry?” You hear her ask, pulling you from your thoughts. You nod, looking up to see Yelena standing from the couch. “I’ll cook us something.” She decides, walking over to the kitchen. You contemplate stopping her, but the truth is you don’t feel like cooking for yourself right now. You aren’t even sure if you can stomach anything right now.

A handful of minutes pass and you hear Yelena searching through cabinets accompanied by the occasional clink of your porcelain dishes. “Dinner’s ready,” she calls out, causing you to reluctantly leave your spot on the couch.

You’re surprised to hear her cooking was completed that fast, but you’re even more surprised when you see the pot of yellow mac and cheese sitting on the table between two bowls and a content Yelena.

You exhale, sitting at the table and allowing the blonde to serve you a portion of her favorite food. It’s hard to deny the bright color leaves little room for any nutritional value, and you question if this is even a meal. But as you watch Yelena dig into her own bowl with delight, you decide to try it.

Oh, that’s not bad. You think to yourself after a spoonful. Soon, both of you are enjoying the simple meal of mac and cheese. You feel Yelena’s eyes on you, looking up to see her smirking. “I don’t want to hear a word.” You assert before she has the chance to make a snide comment.

Yelena puts her hands up in defense, “Hey, I’m not going to say I told you so, but you’re the one eating the mac and cheese I made,” She vocalizes. You shake your head, a matching smirk appearing. You haven’t seen this side of Yelena yet, and if anything it’s slightly more endearing than how she normally is.

“You’re pretty stoic, you know that right?” You tell her. She chuckles, keeping her gaze on the bowl she’s eating from.

“Thank you,” she takes your words as a compliment, not exactly how you intended them but it speaks to her character. “I’m here to protect you, not coddle you.” Yelena states. You tilt your head to the side, thinking on her words. Although mostly true, her statement made you realize something.

“Protection isn’t just physical, it’s also mental,” you start. Yelena looks up at you quizzically. “Like this dinner, you cooked it for me because I obviously wasn’t up to the task. It’s not stopping a gunned assailant, but it’s still protection.” The blonde ponders your words for a moment, pausing her eating.

Maybe your words really made her think, because she seems to soften her expression a bit. “You’ve surprised me,” Yelena admits, resuming her feasting. You raise your eyebrows, unsure what you’ve done to shock someone as reserved as the blonde before you. “I thought you’d be this snobby ‘daddy’s girl’ who’s had everything handed to her. I don’t think you’re like that anymore.”

You chuckle lightly, a little insulted she ever assumed you were that kind of girl, but heartened you’ve somehow proved her wrong. You’re even more impressed she’s admitting it to you, free of any sarcastic quips.

“Thanks, I think. You’re not so terrible yourself. I thought you’d be this stone-faced security hire, but you’ve got some other redeeming qualities too.” You smirk, finally able to return her teasing.

She matches your expression, laughing as the two of you finish off your bowls of mac and cheese. “I guess there’s more to us both than the labels others choose.” You nod at her comment, the idea reining true as most people don’t expect much from someone who likely has their job due to nepotism.

But now you realize your frustration about Yelena was mostly surrounding the version of her you didn’t know well. Her sarcastic comments and teasing were only annoying when you didn’t take a second to see what she found amusing. Now, you see how lighthearted she actually is, and decide that maybe this situation won’t be the worst thing after all.

#marvel #mcu #the avengers #marvel fanfic #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova art

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honeykaes · 1 year

Text

heart's loyalty

pairing: kazuha x femme!reader II 2.7k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, heavy angst, use of she/her pronouns and descriptions of afab!reader, based on feudal japan, arranged-marriage with scaramouche, reader is a foreigner, exhibitionism, public sex, praising, body-worship, fingering, creampie, character death, cheater!reader, can be read as yandere!scaramouche, unedited

synopsis: kazuha never thought that when he was assigned to protect daimyo kunikuzuishi’s wife his loyalty would shift from the shogun to you and when you asked to run away with him, he couldn’t deny you.

Early fall was one of Kazuha’s favorite times of the year. The heat from the summer was beginning to drift away as leaves would slowly float down from his favorite maple trees. He loved the garden in the small manor of the daimyo’s wife as it captured his favorite scene perfectly.

As he turned the corner of the manor, he saw your form. You were sitting on a large rock next to the tall maple tree, giving you shade. A solemn gaze had taken up your face as maple leafs slowly drifted down around you. You revealed your hands from the sleeves of your ornate yukata, picking at a small loaf of bread you threw a yard away towards the koi pond.

His autumn-tinted eyes softened, heart warming at the side of seeing you, yet a small sadness clawed at his heart seeing you so depressed. He couldn’t fault your emotions as if he was trapped in a loveless marriage, he couldn’t smile all the time either.

You were a foreigner picked to be the wife of Daimyo Kunikuzushi by the Shogunate, Raiden Ei. She wanted access to your country's military and weaponry that came from the West as a deterrent from anyone who sought to challenge her power. Therefore, you became a sacrificial pawn to a game of chess you had no means of playing, let alone winning.

He remembered the night you first came to the estate as he walked the quiet halls before hearing your sobs coming from the other side of the sliding door. He was merely randomly assigned to be your personal guard by the daimyo for his skills in sword fighting but his lack of heart to actually fight in conflicts unless necessary.

When he slid the door open, seeing your shocked and tearful face turn in shock that night, he struggled to come up with the words to even greet your depressed form, not knowing what he could say to stop you from crying. He merely walked up and bowed, getting to his knees and lifted his head down, vowing both to you and to his heart to try to give you a better experience of the many years you had awaiting in the country of Inazuma.

As Kazuha walked closer to your form in the garden, your eyes flickered to him—light returning in your dull gaze. He sat besides you on the rock, looking up at the rings of light that managed to escape the maple leaves before placing his pale, calloused hand on yours and weaving his fingers.

A bond between the wife of the daimyo and the samurai guarded to protect her happened gradually but remained strong, leaving both of them longing to be with one another openly. But, when daimyo Kunikuzushi left to return to his larger mansion or to visit the Shogun, it was him that got to warm your bed every night, joined together in a secret but passionate union.

Kazuha was thankful that hardly any workers were at this estate before a small number. Here, they were free to pretend they were together.

But it was only pretend; a reminder Kazuha so sadly acknowledged whenever the Daimyo would return to break that fantasy.

Kazuha felt you squeeze his hand tighter as he turned his head to your form. You stared out to the koi pond, watching the fish swim in circles in the small patch.

“My bird…you know the one I have in my room right?” you asked in a low voice. Kazuha nodded as you sighed, throwing another small chunk of bread to the pond.

“..I let it fly free from its cage. When I went to feed it today, it was looking out to the sky. How could I not? A bird isn’t meant for a golden cage” you mumbled. You loved that bird with every fiber of your being, Kazuha knew letting go was harder for you than you let on. Kazuha lifted his intertwined hands with yours to his mouth, offering a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“...I’d go with you in case you decide to follow that bird and leave your cage,” Kazuha replied. You briefly smile before lips curling downwards into a frown, throwing the remainder of the bread in the pond.

“No, you couldn’t Kazuha. Your loyalty was pledged to Shogunate Ei and Daimyo Kunikuzushi. You’d end up getting killed for treason if you decided to escape with you,” you whispered. Kazuha let his hand go from yours, bringing it up to caress your cheek. His thumb brushed against the skin, feeling the warmth from your cheeks.

“I am only loyal to those in my heart,” he murmured, closing the gap between you as his lips graciously captured your own. Your bodies eventually got closer as the samurai's hand refused to part from your cheek. You whispered out his name, wrapped your hands around his neck to kiss him deeper.

You gasped feeling his hips buck and grind at your thigh, parting his lips with heavy breaths.

“We can’t do this here…in the garden. Someone could see—” Kazuha briefly silenced you with his lips before leaning out, trailing his lips along your neck.

“I dismissed everyone to go to their courtier. Only you and me remain in this garden,” he whispered, nipping at your earlobe. You softly chuckled before leaning in to kiss the samurai once more as his hands began to paw at your clothed thighs. His hands snuck past the fabric of your yukata and their hadajuban, cupping their cunt eliciting a breathless sigh from you. His lips continued pecking along your neck, so delicate and quick as if a butterfly was landing on them.

Kazuha finger brushed against your clit as jolts of pleasure wavered throughout your body. You ground your core against his hand, desperate to get more friction from the pad of his thumb. He pressed against the bundle of nerves, offering quick circles to it. You whined once more, shifting from his touch.

“Always so lovely and soft for me, my lady,” he murmured, voice muffled as he pressed his mouth against your nape. Your arousal was beginning to drool out of your hole, coating his finger that was toying with your clit with the essence. As his ministrations went faster, two fingers prodded at your entrances—teetering back and forth—before finally allowing them to sink into your cunt.

As you moaned out his name, you quickly covered your mouth, muffling the soft moans Kazuha so desperately wanted to hear from you. Your walls fluttered against his fingers slowly plunging themselves deeper inside of you. He soon curled them up as he pumped them, your body jolting as he finally found what he was looking for.

Your walls clamped down pulsating against his fingers curling and moving themselves inside of you to massage that spot. Your hips gyrated and grinded, nub from your clit beginning to slightly burn in pleasure.

“That’s right, my dove. Just let yourself fall into the pleasure,” he whispered deep in your ear as his free hand made way to your clothed breast. He gave it a squeeze, moaning lowly himself as if he could perfectly visualize the pair out as he did before. He shifted in his seat, rubbing his thighs together as his cock pressed firmly against the thin fabric of his fundoshi.

His tongue darted from his lips, planting a long stride against your neck, tasting the salty sweet mixture of your sweat and lotions on the skin. His mouth settled against your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to sprout throughout your body.

“Please don’t deprive me of your beautiful voice, dove. I need to hear how I am making you feel,” he moaned, lifting his hand away from your breast to the hand covering your mouth. As he gently moved it away, the corners of his lips curled in delight hearing the soft groans elicited from his fingering continuously pumping themselves inside of you.

“Kazuha..ha! I’m gonna…please! I’m gonna…!” you moaned out, voice beginning to rise in tone from Kazuha’s pace increasing. He quickly leaned forward, capturing your lips once more as you finally reached your high shivering in his touch, hips grinded against his hand.

As he leaned away, Kazuha’s gaze was half-lidded and darkened in lust. Both of your lips are glossy with a translucent string of saliva connected to the pair. His gaze softened once more, admiring your afterglow of your climax.

“You make me feel so drunk as if I was a fool. How easy you tempt me, my dove…” he whispered, sliding his fingers out of your cunt as you whined. His hands snaked through the fabrics once more, revealing the coated digits.

“Perhaps, I should have waited to have you in your chambers. You always taste so divine,” he hummed to himself, pressing his fingers against his mouth. His tongue curled around his fingers coated in your slick, cleaning them before rubbing the excess saliva against his yukata.

“As sweet as always but alas, I don’t think I can wait anymore,” Kazuha groaned. You soon found yourself up on your feet, pinned against the base of the tree as Kazuha’s eyes drank in your disheveled form.

Kazuha quickly disrobed, pulling his trousers and fundoshi off and exposing his cock against the cool early fall breeze. His haori decorated in maple leaves fell along the gravel of the garden as well, leaving him completely bare as his cock lulled against his toned, pale lower stomach.

He tenderly wrapped his hand around his length before letting out a breath sigh, slowly jerking it as his cock pulsated in his grasp. His base soon shined in precum, now coated on his head that budded from his flushed tip. Kazuha’s gaze rises to yours curling his lips into an amused, and slightly mischievous smile, witnessing your eyes avoiding to look down at his length.

“This isn’t the first time I've had you like this. There’s no need to be embarrassed, although you are rarely cute like this, my dove,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek. You gnaw on your bottom lip, feeling his heavy cock rest against your thigh.

“I-I know that! But we’re outside…,” you whined. Kazuha chuckled, kissing the other side of your cheek.

“Just as our ancestors before us and the animals that roam along these vary lands. There’s no need to be embarrassed, I promise it is just us here and no watchful eyes except my own,” he reassured. You shyly nod as Kazuha’s hand made its way to loosen the obi and grabbed onto the fabric of your kimono, revealing your breasts to him.

He leaned in once more, pressing a kiss against the valley of your breasts before lifting your leg to his hip, exposing your drooling cunt to his gaze. The tip of his cock nudged against your sensitive clit as you whined once more, gliding along your slit as he struggled to find your entrance. With a soft grunt, he finally finds it allowing him to finally sink into your warmth. His pace was slow and deliberate, grinding his pelvis against your entrance.

You moaning out his name was his favorite melody as you wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing him to plunge deeper inside of you. The soft noises of nature around you were eventually drowned out by the snapping noises of skin coming to contact with one another and your breathless sighs of pleasure.

It was overwhelming, feeling your walls desperate to pull him in deeper and fluttered against his sensitive cock. His other hand found it way to your covered ass, squeezing it tightly to push your bodies closer to one another.

“I always find myself spellbound and so captivated by your ethereal form…forgive me for losing myself, my dove,” he moaned, pressing his face against your nape. His pace soon grew faster.

“I will always be yours, no matter what,” Kazuha grunted, strokes becoming faster. Your body bounced at his relentless pace as weaker branches begin to shake and tremble from his pace. Kazuha’s blunt nails dug into the plush skin of your thighs futility trying to sink deeper inside of you, muffled whimpers of your name escaping from his lips. Snapping his eyes shut, Kazuha reached his peak as thick ropes of cum shot inside of you. His hips bucked—weakly thrusting—as he slowly came down, leaving a kiss on the nape of your neck.

“Ah…how could I let myself become undone before you…” he softly chuckled, lifting his hand away from the globe of your ass to toy with your throbbing clit to cease your whines. You squirmed in his grip, grinded against his cock still nestled deep inside of you plugging the cum that was threatening to leak out. He grinded his hips, feeling your walls slowly caved down, pressing tighter circles against your clit

“That’s it…you’re almost there…just a little more dove,” Kazuha hummed, flicking your overstimulated clit rapidly. Your back arched, leg shivering in pleasure as you finally reached your high. Kazuha peppered kisses against your nape.

“There you go…such a good, little dove,” he cooed.

“Kadehara.”

Your eyes softened as you placed your hands against his flushed cheeks.

“Kaedehara Kazuha.”

Kazuha snapped his eyes open, looking down at the gravel—the pain of the rocks pressed against his legs kneeling down. His eyes felt heavy, skin much sweeter than usual as a pure white kimono clung onto him uncomfortably. When he went to move his arms, the tight rope burned against his wrist as they stayed in place bound behind him.

He finally leaned his head up, observing his surroundings. Familiar faces of his comrades were sat around a courtyard, varying faces of disgust, disappointment and anger on their faces.

“...You will be executed for treason against the Shogun,” a woman called out, with a decree in her hands. There his name was, written in kanji, penned by the all-powerful Raiden Ei,

“Ah.. that was right,” Kazuha slowly whispered to himself. He buried himself in a dream to forget the nightmare that was his reality.

He remembered that day, as your bodies were still joined together, you gently clasped his face and pleaded that you needed to run away, to be with him and happy. Just as he pledged before, Kazuha happily complied, cleaning the two of you before packing a small rations and cash to get on the next boat leaving Liyue.

He thought, together, they could make it. He was skilled enough to fight off against ronin or his old comrades.

What he didn’t expect was the skilled power Daimyo Kunikuzushi had. Kazuha knew him to always have others do his dirty work. It only took a half a day for him to find you two with ten men at his side. The servants must have reported the pair or he arrived at your manor earlier than you thought—you weren’t sure how and why he was able to know where you two were headed.

Pinned down against six samurai, all Kazuha could do was reach out to your crying and screaming form, desperately reaching out for his hand. It was as if the world had slowed watching your form slowly disappear from his sight as he was rushed to be arrested.

He knew you would be physically alright, but you’d be put into a smaller cage and under a more watchful eye by the Daimyo.

Him, however…

Kazuha’s eyes drifted up, feeling the weight of a hateful gaze glare down at him. Kunikuzushi stood behind him, a katana by his side.

One man he knew to be Heizou, solemnly got up from his seated position, walking over and behind him, covering Kazuha’s eyes with a white cloth. Kazuha sensed Heizou left to return back to his position—the samurai’s eyes waiting in hesitant anticipation for his death.

Hearing a katana unsheathe from its hilt, the corners of Kazuha’s mouth lifted into a smile before closing his eyes. His mind conjured your image once more; how he wished he could see your smiling face one more time. He’d sadly have to leave you lonely for now.

“Do you have any last words,” Daimyo Kunikuzushi seethed out. Kazuha could feel the twisted smile on the daimyo’s face, relishing that he was about to die by his hand.

”I followed her to this life and I will follow her to the next.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #kazuha x reader #kazuha smut #kazuha imagines #kazuha scenarios #tw yandere

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potatomountain · 8 months

Text

CIY- 3

Chapter Three

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective reader

📍word count: 3.2k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: (TBD)

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 and @daesukiii

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Two more days passed without another encounter, or even an assignment for work, and you felt as if you had gotten all the information you could possibly find with your access. There was an abundance of notes, including theories of ties and such, but you truthfully couldn’t find an answer to Yunho’s question that was different than before- or that you could do alone with your minimum resources.

While tomorrow the Captain should figuratively be back, you decided that you could wait another day. You didn’t want to have to deal with the Captain of this pompous team, and after mulling it over for the last hour before your shift was up, you picked up the phone and hit line 3. Part of you expected that he wouldn’t pick up, that you would be ignored, but you were more than relieved when he did.

“What do you need?” Even if he was a bit snappy.

“I’d like to have tomorrow off. Scratch that, I won’t be coming in tomorrow.” You really didn’t want his permission for anything honestly.

“The Captain will be here tomorrow, may I ask why?” His interest seemed to be piqued, which truthfully just annoyed you. Under different circumstances it might be nice that they had an interest, but you knew it was entirely because they were just too distrustful of you.

Still, you relented a bit. “Do you think I want to make an hour-long trek every single day just to get here? I get the keys for my new place tonight and I plan on moving everything tomorrow. Plus, no one guaranteed your Captain to be here and I don’t want to sit here twiddling my damned thumbs waiting.”

There was silence on the other end, only your frustrated huffs filling it for a long awkward moment. “Very well- under one condition.”

Your relief was short lived, glaring at the receiver. “What do you mean? What condition?”

“We’ve been more than jerks to you, and an hour move isn’t the easiest. Yunho and Jongho can help you move.”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor, shock being an understatement. “You want to help me settle in? What the fuck??”

There was a displeased grumble on his end, the shifting of a chair. “You don’t have any intention of leaving us anytime soon, and while yes we don’t want you on the team it’s inevitable at the moment and it is unfair to take it out on you.”

His words made sense but you were still unsettled by the offer. “You really aren’t giving me a choice either. If I want to have a day off to move, I’ll have to accept their help?”

“Mmm, if you want tomorrow off, yes. I'm sure you can wait two more days for your official day off and spend the entirety of it moving alone if you wish but I imagine it would be much more efficient this way.”

You felt your eye twitch at his haughty tone. “Fine. I accept the condition. They can meet me at my old place, 8 o’clock sharp. It sounds like you don’t need the address either.”

“I’ll notify them. Anything else?”

Biting back the urge to cuss him out every which way, you gritted your teeth. “No.” You hung up first, slamming the phone down on the receiver and huffing back into your chair.

Two hours later you had the keys to your new place in hand and headed back home, attempting to fix your sour mood by focusing on packing the very last bits and arranging everything. You booked the movers and headed to bed early still in a sour mood.

Sleep did nothing to remedy that, as the pounding on your door at five to eight alerted you to just how annoying this day was going to be. “That’s probably the rest of my help. Excuse me for a moment.” With a huff you left the mover alone to swing your door open. “Wow, I can’t believe you actually showed up.”

Yunho towered over you, widening his friendly smile- which you were sure was as fake as they come- and Jongho stood behind him, seeming as if someone pissed in his coffee… which might as well have been the case. Yunho looked you over with an appreciative hum, causing you to cross your arms over your chest defensively. You were dressed for comfort, unlike your usual work suits, which had seemed like a good idea until now.

“Of course, Seonghwa pleaded a good case. He can be very persuasive. May we come in?” Yunho nodded his head to the space behind you.

Jongho scoffed behind him. “I’d rather not.” He mumbled before you could answer.

Your sour mood definitely wasn’t going away any time soon. “You don’t have to be, I was fine on my own.”

“Sure you were.” Dripping with sarcasm, Jongho rolled his eyes as he just pushed his way in and looked around. He spotted the mover, a man in his late thirties that was the truck driver as well, and made his way over to help him.

Scoffing, you glared at his back. “I’d ask if he is always like that but I already know I’m an exception.”

“Let’s just get this done, I have plans tonight.” Yunho sighed, pushing his way inside and letting the overly friendly air around him melt away as he also went to help the mover.

You were fine with that, keep it simple and have them focus on helping the man you were paying- you didn’t want their help anyways. Huffing, you propped your front door open and went back to work.

It only took an hour before all of your furniture was safely in the truck and you were about to tear Jongho’s head off. “Can you STOP trying to break my fucking shit?!” He had, for the nth time, been too rough with some of your furniture, dropping it roughly into the truck and causing the nearby things to shake.

“Have less shit.” He shrugged nonchalantly, jumping off the truck and passing you as he headed back into the apartment complex

“I swear I’m going to- agh!” Throwing your hands up you glared after him, only to turn the glare on Yunho who was clearly holding his laughter at bay. “Want to say something?!”

With a chuckle he shook his head, setting down the box he was carrying. “And face your wrath? No thanks.”

Rolling your eyes you followed after him inside to grab the next box. “Oh please, you don’t think I’m a threat at all.” You mumbled, staring at his broad back as you two climbed the stairs. A few trips ago Yunho had pushed the sleeves of his dark shirt up to his elbows, revealing a sleeve on his right arm of black ink. You hadn’t bothered to pay it much attention, but it had you once again admitting they were attractive- the shitty personalities just ruined it for you.

“True. And if you assaulted me it would get you suspended faster.”

You felt your eye twitch, just as annoyed with Yunho as you were with Jongho. While Jongho was outright rude and grumbling his protests at every opportunity, Yunho was just passive aggressive, hiding most of his jabs behind a supposed friendly remark. The warm tone he had didn’t help either.

Still, the reminder that you could easily lose your job if you let your temper win was just the dose of reality you needed to calm down. “I’d say that’s the only downside if I left physical bruises.” You mumbled.

His deep chuckle caught you by surprise, a twinkle in his eye when he looked back at you. “I’d say that depends on how we receive the bruises, and if we get to leave some too.”

Clearly flirting, you froze up, eyes going wide. “Detective, are you implying you would enjoy fucking me?”

The smirk he gave you was most definitely real. “It has crossed my mind… attitude aside, you are quite attractive and gags are a thing.”

Steaming, you pushed past him with a sneer. “You’re a fucking douchebag.”

You kept busy after that, mouth shut and just glaring or sneering at Jongho’s remarks while completely ignoring Yunho after that. Another hour later and the truck was packed up and you had your bag and laptop in hand, giving the driver the address before watching him drive off. Turning to return the key to your apartment manager you frowned at the sight of the two detectives.

Yunho once more had his hands in his pockets, sleeves still pushed up, but now Jongho also had the sleeves of his striped sweater pushed up- which made no sense to you since he was wearing gloves. “You two are still here?”

“Of course- you aren’t done moving.”

Ignoring Yunho, you narrowed your eyes on Jongho who was avoiding looking at you. “I don’t have to tell you the address.” Jongho just rolled his eyes at your defiance, practically daring you to do so when he matched your glare.

When neither budged, or left, you shrugged your shoulders and headed inside. You weren’t surprised to find them still there twenty minutes later, your apartment key now returned, but once more you paid them no mind, instead getting a cab.

You should’ve known it wasn’t going to be that easy. Before you even shut the cab door they were sliding in on either side of you, cramping up the back seat as they stretched their legs out. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Give the nice driver the address sweetheart.” Yunho adjusted himself in the seat, long legs in front of him and his right arm stretched out behind you.

Jongho said nothing on your right, his leg bouncing in annoyance while the driver watched you expectantly in the rearview mirror. With a sigh you relented, quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place with no means of escape. Once your new address was given, the driver pulled onto the road.

The tension in the silence between the three of you during the ride was so thick you swore you could physically touch it. Jongho’s leg never stopped bouncing and both stared out the window. Yunho was practically leaning against you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and every time you pushed it off it was back several minutes later so you had given up on that.

The drive was an hour as it was past the precinct office, more south, near the docks. Thinking about the location reminded you of just what gang territory both your apartment and the precinct technically was in- you wondered why it never occurred to you beforehand.

Was that why the Precinct was so inconspicuous? Or was that why the Black Pirates were so cautious?

Theories ran through your head, a nice distraction as you couldn’t look out either window without being reminded of the men you were uncomfortably sandwiched between. For a moment you wondered if they suspected you might have ties to one of the gangs, and that could be why they were so untrusting.

The idea had you softening a bit because that you could understand and be empathetic towards. They had years of work into trying to find a way to undo several crime organizations, which probably had their hands in law enforcement and higher, onlyfor you to transfer out of the blue? Your insistent need to stay?

Your shoulders slumped a bit, not liking the sudden understanding of their perspective- that made them less jerks and more… well more like you. It was hard to dismiss their defenses when you thought they had damned good reasons for it.

Battling with your morals for the last small leg of the drive, Yunho had to tap your shoulder to get you out of your head. You turned to look up at him, still a bit distracted. “Hm?”

Whatever he was going to say died on his lips as his eyes searched your face. His expression seemed to soften, which was the indicator that your own expression was perhaps more vulnerable than you wanted it to be. Steeling yourself, and your expression, you pulled away and lifted a brow.

He sighed, his own defenses coming back up. “We’ve arrived. Pay the man.” He huffed out before stepping out of the taxi, Jongho already standing outside.

Whether you could empathize or not, they still got under your skin so easily. Grumbling you did pay the driver before getting out of the car, looking up at the small apartment building that was now your new home.

“Is this really the place?” Jongho asked, joining you and Yunho on the sidewalk.

“Mhmm, apartment 16, third floor.” Adjusting your bag, you headed for the front door. Part of what sold you about this place was the security- the halls and entrances were monitored twenty-four seven and you needed a key code to get it- 1117. Inputting it, you stepped inside, not bothering to see if they were following. “I have to give the security guard a heads up that I’m moving things in, give me a second.”

The office was right by the front door, the security an elderly gentleman that said you could prop the door open and to ask him if you needed help. You came back out to Yunho holding back laughter and Jongho in an even more pissed off mood. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Oh nothing nothing, this neighborhood just has some fond memories for me- Jongho isn’t too happy I brought them up.” Yunho patted the latter on the back before pointing to the truck that was pulling onto the curb. “We beat the mover, how about that.”

You didn’t push it, instead shaking your head and heading for the truck.

Despite your protest, the guard did come out to help you within the first hour of bringing everything in. While it was two floors shorter of a trek, it still took a bit to get everything into your new apartment- which was bigger and had a better view. If you could call the river docks a view, just a few blocks out.

Every time Yunho brought something into your apartment though, he had a shit-eating grin on his face that had annoyed you to no end. Whenever you questioned him, he would just shrug it off and say it was nothing important.

You did catch Jongho mumbling “this is going to make things so much worse” yet when you questioned him, he just brushed you off. That only aggravated you more, especially because there was nothing you could do about it.

By the time everything was safely in your apartment and the mover was fully paid and left, it was almost two and your stomach was growling. Having been in such a rush to get everything to your new apartment so you didn’t have to deal with these two longer than you had to, you had forgotten to eat or drink anything despite the constant physical excursion.

Despite your better judgment, you found yourself asking them if they wanted food.

“What?” Jongho's wide eyes narrowed into a glare. “You're joking aren't you?”

Rolling your eyes you shook your head. “I wish. However… you did help, and quickly too.” You admitted begrudgingly, a pout on your lips.

Yunho grinned. “Well I won't say no to free food- you are paying for it aren't you?”

“I'll pass.” Jongho headed for the door but you immediately stepped in his way, earning a sneer from him. “I thought you couldn't get rid of me fast enough? Why the sudden change?”

You matched his sneer. “I'm not an immature bitch who won't pay my debts just because I don't like you- so you can either stay and eat or accept cash.”

The two of you stared each other down while Yunho made his way over, hooking his arm around Jongho's shoulder and whispering something in his ear you couldn't hear. Whatever it was softened Jongho enough that he broke eye contact first.

“I'll stay and eat then. Fuck-” He grumbled over to your sofa.

You just fixed Yunho with a stare now. “How did you convince him to stay?”

“Easy- the longer we are here, the more we are paid. We're getting hourly for this.” Yunho stuffed his hands in his pockets, shit eating grin back. “Does that make you want to kick us out faster?”

You scoffed, pulling out your phone to order food. “Hardly. I'm not the one paying you to be here. What do you want to eat?”

Even agreeing on food was a hassle but you managed to get an order in, something that was quick to the door at least. While you waited you just started moving things around, the two men sitting on your sofa chatting under their breath and constantly sending you side glances.

It was easy to tune them out, partly because you started with your room.

You were struggling with your bed, getting the frame back together but the mattress and moving it was a problem. Like hell you were going to ask for help though, even in your hungry and exhausted state. When it suddenly moved into place, you nearly fell face first on the floor, scrambling to stay upright as laughter was heard next to you.

Turning with a glare, Yunho was standing at the other end of the bed, not bothering to hide his laughter this time. “Sorry, your struggles just got so pathetic I had to help.”

“I would have let her keep struggling.” Jongho spoke up from the doorway, a satisfied smirk on his face melting into a chuckle when your cheeks burned. “Too bad you didn't face-plant.”

“Shut up. I would have been fine!” A bit out of breath didn't help your case however.

“Are you sure this is where you want your bed?”

“I moved it here didn't I?” You snapped back at Yunho who was looking over your bed with more humor than you were expecting. “What's so fucking funny?”

“Nothing nothing- it just occurred to me that you don't have a sex life.” Yunho teased, licking his lips when he looked you over.

Stiffening defensively you hoped your embarrassment wasn't as obvious as your heated cheeks. “So what?! Don't tell me you want to change that? I'll pass.”

“If the two of you are going to fuck, let me leave first.” Jongho grumbled, turning to leave. “Food's here.”

Yunho just shrugged off both comments, still staring you down. “I'll pass as well, doll, otherwise your neighbors would get annoyed.” He motioned to the wall your bed was propped against. “And you wouldn't get your security deposit back.” Laughing at his own joke he followed after Jongho, leaving you steaming.

The images he had planted in your mind had you rethinking your bed position, which just had you even more flustered. This wasn't the time to try and hook up with someone, definitely not one of your new coworkers and a random hookup wasn't the best idea either. Yet you would be lying to yourself if what he said didn't spike some urges- the who was probably irrelevant.

Slapping your cheeks to regain some focus you headed out to the living area, telling yourself the only kind of rough play that would happen would be you bashing the heads of these two idiots in. As if your unsuspecting neighbors would be able to tell that though.

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cards-of-rose · 11 months

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°• study tip: arranging your desk •°

your desk is the most important place in your house/dorm (besides your bed ofc)! this is where all your studying happens, so why not make it pretty and focused? no matter what your aesthetic is, it's extremely motivating to set it up in a way that makes it fun to study <3

> decluttering your desk <

clean out trash. post-its, old assignments (put these in a folder - we'll come back to them), anything on the surface of your desk that can be thrown away!

test old pens. next you'll want to try out your pens! throw away any that don't work! you'll replace these eventually :)

desk surface. clear the surface of your desk of anything that makes it look cluttered. notebooks, things like that. put them in a drawer!

drawers. now that you've cleaned the top of your desk, pick a drawer and pull out everything in that drawer and pile it on the top. go through it! throw away papers, stack notebooks. declutter! do this with all of your drawers. (basically go through steps 1-3.)

shelves. clear your shelves of any textbooks you aren't using right now. this way you won't have to stack your books around your desk and it'll look neater :)

> organizing your desk <

notebooks. the first step is to organize your notebooks! put away or throw out any notebooks you don't use anymore. any notebooks you do use, stack them neatly in your drawers in a way that's easy to get to.

papers. next is papers. you always want to keep assignments and old tests! these will help you study later. get a folder or binder for your papers and organize them by subject and weight (homework, quizzes, etc). this way they'll all be in one place! put this in your drawers.

textbooks. pull out your textbooks and arrange them. if you have shelves, stack them neatly by size. if you don't have shelves, line them against your desk or the wall. just arrange them in whatever way looks the best and doesn't distract you!

> arranging your desk <

pens. get pens that actually work! find some pretty ones that fit your aesthetic - flowing black ones for dark academia, cute and pink for coquette, etc! this'll help make studying fun <3

planner. find a planner that fits your aesthetic. you'll put this on your desk for easy access to keep track of your assignments! try to get one with a calendar. (ex- for dark academia, get a leather-bound notebook.)

decorations. it doesn't have to be expensive! thrift stores have a lot of really cool things, and sometimes antique stores will have a vintage analog clock or a cute coquettish vase. fake flowers, a mug for pens, just look around! a lot of times you can even improvise with stuff around the house.

examples!! a dark academic desk might include a ticking clock, a wall of newspaper clippings and book quotes, fountain pens, leather notebooks, maybe a greek-style bust.

a coquettish desk might have some pretty pink flowers, a flowered mug for tea, pink pens, a little jar for candy.

a light academic desk might have pressed flowers and a collage of book pages on the wall, tea bags, a favorite book, baby's breath in a little jar.

you get the point!! look around and have fun with it! if your desk fits your ideal of studying, you'll be much more motivated to actually sit there and do the work. i hope this helps <3

#studyblr #dark academia #study motivation #studying #writing #academia #light academia #coquette #pink #pink academia #academic weapon #study tips #study blog #study aesthetic

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bloop-bl00p · 19 days

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Hell's Rings | Part 1

It was harder than I thought, I had to squeeze the creativity juice out of my brain to create something coherent that looked realistic within the enclosure of the rules I created. I’m a sucker for Good Worldbuilding. I still had fun making this, fortunately.

I originally wanted to make one post for all the rings but Limbo was taking whole lots of paragraphs so I’ll post each of them individually.

I. Limbo

✦ General:

All sinners are crammed up there so the exterminations don’t affect other rings. Royalty avoids getting into Limbo preferring to send representatives to deal with the sinners and other Hellborns.

The Ring is separated into different districts based on the 7 Deadly Sins, each of them containing multiple ways of entertainment to sell the idea that “Hell is cool actually!” in order to lure new sinners in. There are many establishments named guilds directly belonging to the Six Sins (Minus Lucifer, he isn’t into that.) Each guilds have a domain of expertise whose purpose is to maintain a semblance of a functional society and/or control the population (Tailors, Butchery, any new Technologies, …) It’s the most common way for Sinners to find jobs, though one extra step to join these is to sell your souls to the Overlords, who is an exclusive Sinner or Hellbords directly working for the Sins.

The Ring is big and there are multiple guilds for the same domain dispersed over districts. Some are competitive with one another other collaborates.

Guilds hierarchy |From Lesser to Higher|

• Laborers:

They rarely partake in important projects, only ever given ‘unskilled labor’ (cleaning, delivering merchandise…). Some with potential are trained and supervised by workers so they can eventually be promoted and more helpful, the others are purposely kept in that role as people willing to do the dirty annoying job are still needed.

• Workers:

Skilled workers could become assistants for Overlords or train laborers with potential. It’s not unusual for guilds with the same domain to exchange, for a short period of time, a few workers either to help each other or simply so they come back with more competence as they were exposed to multiple techniques.

• Overlords:

They represent the 6 Sins. They are themselves expert in their domain and were assigned a guild to cultivate it. Furthermore, powers are granted to them, how? Blood. The Sins give small samples of their blood to Overlords granting them strength and physical resilience. They are much more difficult to hurt and the Sinners Overlords tend to regenerate quickly after death by normal weapons. This also helps them manage their physical and psychological punishment as the blood has a holly origin. The issue is that it’s temporary, to gain more blood you need to prove yourself to be valuable otherwise you’ll be left out.

They obliviously run the business, and make sure the guild maintains a notorious reputation so that people would buy their things and seek to work for them. There are multiple guilds for one domain, and when they aren't against each other (which happens a lot since each Overlord tries to get the favor of the Sins), they arrange meetings to make business decisions for the benefit of all. Sometimes the partnership is imposed.

✦ Native species:

There are no species that specifically were created in Limbo, the only notable ones are the Sinners. Hellborns can easily access other Rings via the Elevator which is heavily guarded.

Sinners and their punishment:

Sinners are the only ones forced to stay there but they are not bound magically to this place. While demons don't have many issues regarding using the elevator, Sinners need a verified authorization signed by a higher authority. They imperatively need to be brought back to Limbo, especially when the Extermination is about to happen.

No Sinners look totally human, being in Hell means you rejected God thus also the appearance he gave you. Their new form reflects the ways they died and their deepest insecurities or fears. |Some cannot look at themselves in the mirror because of that| They have no magical abilities, if you transform into an animal you may have another set of limbs or eyes but nothing more than that. At least not without the blood of higher authority.

It’s possible to get hurt in Hell and even ‘die’ a second time, but the death is only definitive if it’s an angelic weapon. Let’s say you got in an incident and got cut in half, you will regenerate but it’ll take centuries for you to get your legs back, and if your body gets somehow obliterated you’ll simply respawn. The regeneration process is painful but it’ll depend on the gravity of your injuries.

Each sinners have a punishment depending on the sins they committed the most in life which are:

• Pride: Denial, prideful sinners mentally block this ability to self-reflect blaming it on Heaven for wrongly judging them. They cannot be wrong in this situation, why would they ask for forgiveness when they haven’t done anything wrong? In fact, they can’t do anything wrong!

• Envy: Partial blindness if not total, your inability to see the good in what you have and constantly seeking to destroy the belongings of others is the biggest proof that you are blind. It just physically manifested in Hell.

• Wrath: The angrier you get the hotter your corporal temperature gets. It doesn’t do much, you can easily get heat strokes, organ damage if your angered state gets prolonged for too long, and plenty of other unpleasant stuff. I heard your blood can boil in extreme cases, most have already lost consciousness before reaching that state, luckily for them.

• Greed: Gold sickness. You are constantly seeking to obtain as much gold as possible, and in an effort to showcase your wealth and powers, you’ll eat it. I mean, if you’re one of those people who get pennies easily, what’s the difference if you decide to eat one coin, then another, and another? What do you mean it’s dangerous for the liver?

Did I mention you’ll also be ballshit paranoid? With all of that wealth, you constantly fawn around, eating it to show that you still have plenty of money left in your drawers, who wouldn’t want to steal it?

• Sloth: Deep state of depression. You’ll be stuck in a constant state of hopelessness and your ability to enjoy simple things will be suppressed. While other sinners will try to see the ‘good side of hell’ by indulging in the many activities available, you’ll be unable to do that and you seemingly cannot heal from it.

• Gluttony: Your metabolism is fast, dangerously so. Stuck in a constant state of hunger, you’re practically forced to eat gallons of food unless you want to starve, not to death, you can’t die.

• Lust: Constant dissatisfaction, whether it’s sex or something else. Your emotions and feelings are all over the place constantly making you seek more interesting and risqué situations to feel this thrill that drugs can’t reproduce, but it’s never enough.

Besides those lovely physical/psychological conditions, you cannot remember your life on Earth and you are bound to fully forget who you are after centuries. You still remain fragments of souvenirs, mostly related to your sins and regrets, but a Sinner fully recovering their memories hasn't been recorded in Hell’s history.

Where does the Elevator come from?

It was said that the wicked nature of Fallen Angels disrupted the environment so much that an earthquake later caused a rift allowing the creation of the Elevator everyone uses now. It’s mostly for those who don’t have power and can’t create portals to travel through the Rings.

Do you really think Royalty will bother sharing a public space with Hellborns and Sinners?

✦ How Limbos looks like:

General:

Something that is common with all of the Ring is how dark it is. Hell’s ultimate collective punishment is the separation from God so there’s no natural light available and you can’t see Heaven from there, it’s a completely isolated dimension.

Limbo’s ecosystem started as an average foothill, at its center there a mountains whose peak is where Adam and Eve live. This Noble house was blessed with the fire of the Ophamin and is currently protected by Seven walls representing the Virtuous with only one entry, nobody leaves nobody enters.

If you read my other rewrite post, you’ll ask me “Then how can Adam and Eve watch over the population of sinners if they can’t leave?” well, the eyes.

Those eyes are present in most of the series, I’m pretty sure they are a reference to Roo or something but, yeah no, not in my rewrite. These eyes are golden and represent Heaven’s weariness of Hell, Adam and Eve watch the people through them. If it were to become an animated series, I’d like to add the details that during exterminations they are closed. Even if the people who get killed are sinners, Adam and Eve cannot bear watching their lineage get destroyed because of guilt, they know that if they never ate the defended fruits none of this would have been necessary.

The Seven District:

Each seven districts has a different aesthetic and depending on whether some may be more modernized while the other will have a more wild forest aesthetic.

Pride

My main inspiration for the hypothetical design of Pride was France in the late 17th century to early 18th, Aka during the reign of Louis XIV.

The place is very structured with methodic geometrical architecture to convey control over the elements, there’s a few parks and public spaces here with no sign of weebs, it’s neat. Pride is filled with peacocks, pomegranates, and lion imagery, the animals here to represent Lucifer and his pack of Fallen Angels, and the fruits as a reference to what happened in Eden.

The entertainment value of the district is more toward art with theatres, museums |That depict biblical stories and make the demons seen as martyrs|, libraries with history books that may or may not be falsified, salons, and other things only rich people can afford. Lucifer makes little to no investment to build most of these places, he doesn't even visit the district. No, all of this display of wealth is mostly due to the Goetia and other Fallen Angels, they are proud of what they did throughout history |or at least they try to convince themselves| which is why they show off their accomplishment through arts like a gleeful kid revealing a drawing to their mother.

There’s little sign of poverty in Pride, other than maybe a few imps playing various instruments to get a penny, most hotels and houses are only affordable for the richest. The impoverished population is usually more prominent and visible in the other districts.

Envy

Districts, where new trends appear, welcome this rip-off of Los Angeles.

Popularity is extremely important within the district and one of the many ways you can cultivate it is through internet. Envy offers the perfect canvas and public spaces for taking pictures to post on social media for people to fawn over you and get easily jealous.

Celebrities’ culture is cherished within the District and every Overlord seeks to be the next Kardashian. All go on private events |red carpets and meet gala style| in an effort to bring attention to themselves and enhance their popularity with the populace. Careful there, one mistake will ruin your reputation for the next centuries, and let’s just say that your competition will be seeking to absolutely destroy everything that gives you access to aids. It is envy in its purest form not just mere jealousy.

Wrath

The district is stuck between petty turf wars and gang organizations. The only ‘safe’ places for you are the guilds that are military-guarded because you simply cannot trust the citizens there to behave and not steal the merchandise.

It’s not the best district to live in unless you're an agent of chaos and like wrecking everything and everyone. Usually, the first introduction newbie sinners get from Wrath is to see bodies hung on the few trees that are still standing. It’s just the local mafias publicly punishing those who disrespected them and unfaithful members, this can go from simple humiliation or public torture. Nevertheless, they will eventually let your corpse rot away for everyone to see.

Well-crafted organization aside, rookies who simply come here for the thrill usually participate in street-fight, there’s multiple disaffected buildings that serve that purpose, sheltering reckless fighters during their dangerous endeavor. Some like to put random batiments on fire for some reason, they think it’s ‘fun.’

Greed

Here you’ll get the ultimate flashback from the Industrial Revolution, it’s not the cleanest place and it’s tough to breathe but simplistic jobs are much more available. Some buildings are made of gold, unfortunately, you can’t see it because the fumes of the usine got them dirty.

To work in a guild you need to have some level of competence in a certain domain, some sinners simply don’t have that. Hell might as well have an abundance of certain employment that doesn't demand knowledge over anything. That’s what you find in Greed!

This district has everything the other has regrouped in one place but with lower qualities. guilds only centered around commerce are mostly found in Greed, usually, minor guilds from another district can collaborate with them and they’ll share benefits. What can I say, you find lots of things there, bars, local prostitutes, restaurants, drugs, and everything that maintains Hell’s economy.

Sloth

I kept the medical theming, but it’s more of a desperate attempt to ease the pain through what is sold as anti-depressants like Benzodiazepines. I mean, it is used in anti-depressants but it’s only effective when you are medically supervised, here they just throw the pills at you and you eventually develop an addiction, it seems like it’s the only thing that can help you.

Japan was my main inspiration, especially Kyoto with this general peacefulness through the architecture without being too techy. Hikikomori is a term used to describe people who voluntarily withdraw from society, it’s what you become under the sin of Sloth. The district would have been desert if it wasn’t for the other sinner.

Everything is made to ‘facilitate’ your life and make sure you avoid stepping outside as much as possible. There’s no sun, there’s no God to help you what’s the point? There are a few relaxation centers and saunas here and there but your mind prefers staying home, there’s nothing to enjoy in Hell. You might as well rot inside and wait for an angel to exterminate you once and for all.

Gluttony

Entering the district with no money is a rookie mistake, you know when your stomach is empty and you suddenly smell the fresh pastries of a closed bakery. Expect this feeling to hit you like a good slap across the face.

We need to eat in order to live some just live in order to eat. But now you’re dead, there are absolutely no consequences here, it’s not like everything is made to get you completely addicted. Nutritional values? Who cares, it’s tasty! I heard some even purposely throw up their food in order to make a place in their stomach. It may be disgusting but what’s the point of buying excess food if you’re not going to eat it all?!

Food isn’t the only thing you can enjoy, taverns and bars are abundant enough for you to party and overindulge in all of the liquors available. A new market of drugs recently started, Gluttony was initially just about food but it’s funny how humans on Earth keep finding new ways to fuck their lives over, without the influence of Hell! Anyway Bellzebub took this opportunity and a new market emerged.

I like to think the district is a mix of multiple cultures to diversify the amount of foods, spices and tastes with a tab bit of questionable hygiene, and the district is filled with flies-like drawn to the scents |they also eat meats, alive or not|. They’ll be different streets selling foods and dishes with a hellish touch from different countries with also luxurious restaurants serving banquets for those who can afford them. You know, why stick to one food aesthetic when I can take them all? Gluttony is still about overindulgence.

Lust

Paris, La Belle Epoque. Asmodeus likes it sensual with a touch of classic, you can’t lean toward extravagance without a touch of pizzazz.

The district reeks of sex and debauchery filled with deep blue butterfly peas and other risqué statues and paintings. Lust isn’t always about the deed but it’s what it is known for, they might as well, commit to the aesthetic. Here, mostly inhabited by succubus and satyrs, I can guarantee you’ll find something you’ll like between the cabarets, brothels, and private salons to satisfy each of your most depraved fantasies. As long as you pay, good sex is guaranteed and your spouse won’t know a thing.

✦ Lenore’s sanctuary:

At the mountain foot, there’s a dense forest, and once you’re there it’s over. You constantly change path without realizing it and there are multiple illusions leading you nowhere. On top of that, you will be kept in a constant state of isolation. The forest is cursed and it’s a well-known fact.

Lenore basically cursed the place so that nobody she didn't trust could reach her sanctuary located on the Mountainside. People who are trusted have made a deal with her, they respect her rules, and they gain a safe environment to live in. Each person when navigating through the forest sees flickers of light that guide them to the sanctuary.

Most people here are children, orphans imps, and Hellborns who lived in poverty and she recently started to get more sinners in.

Still, there are plenty of protection sigils drawn on doors and windows, and she regularly puts on protection spells to repel negative influence.

Now the reason why Lenore doesn’t get as much attention is because she’s Lucifer’s daughter. Not one of the many bastard children of Lilith, she actually has her father's blood in her veins! The King doesn’t seem to give a crap about his daughter's activities and picking a fight with a Nephilim doesn't seem like a good idea, the Seven Sins let her be for now. Her activities haven’t reached a great scale and it’s a matter of time before her sanctuary starts lacking space.

How do they get le food?

The Mountain can be considered a much more holy place since the top is where Adam and Eve lives, allowing the soil to be more fertile. That’s how they get the food without using supplies from the Gluttony District, Lenore with her angelic ancestry can have access to Earth via portals and cultivate earthly food there. The residents cook whatever they want after.

#anti vivziepop #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel rewrite #helluva boss rewrite #anti spindlehorse

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enmasae · 9 months

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Desire of the fittest - Part 1

Self Aware Genshin Alternate Universe - Guide AU (my own take on sagau)

Warnings :

Adult content (such as violence, bullying, toxic relationships, cursing, angst, nsfw, and others) and yandere behavior (such as obsessive and possessive display)

Theories and lore informations

Since this is my take on an alternate version of Genshin Impact, I've taken the liberty to include elements that may not align with the game's lore but will make sense in this particular story.

Content : Kaeya and Diluc's wonderful sibling dynamic, Pantalone's charisma, Ningguang and Beidou making me question things about myself, Venti's poetic rumbles, Aether's sister issues

As it is a "x Reader", i use the pronoun "you" and wrote the protagonist as gender neutral.

In the city of contracts, one might never sleep admidst the lights adorning the starry night. The milliths exhibit strong commitment to the protection of their people and, to some extent, their alcohol. Priorities vary, with some indulging in their duty while others drink to their heart's content. For example, a reckless young knight in training sneaks in the few dim alleys the town might provide, a risky task considering his bright red hair. However, this detail doesn't dissuade him from neglecting his duties and following his own sense of justice.

"I hope you got a good excuse for this one, you know. I'm running out of ideas to give Varka and Jean to save our badges."

The knight's face betrays little surprise as he observes the other man leaning on his shoulders. The redhead stares at his coworker and gives him a forceful shove, clearly irritated by his mere presence. The other knight raises his hands as to surrender, a quirky smile growing on his features.

Seizing the man by his collar, the redhead forcefully pins him against the nearest wall. One hand silences the sweet talker, while the other firmly grips the weapon's pommel at his belt. Despite this, the knight's focus remains fixed on the pair strolling past the concealed alley. Only when the target disappears from his view does the redhead shift his attention to the restricted man.

"If you're so afraid to lose your career, why do you keep following me ? Tell me Kaeya, is it funny for you to stick your nose in my business ?"

Kaeya, as he's called, emits a dry laugh before forcing himself out of the redhead's grip. He brushes off his shoulder pads and arranges his hair to his preferred style, tidy yet with a hint of wildness.

"I care about you Diluc, is that so hard to catch on ? You're the only family i have left. You know ? Your brother ?"

The red hair is quick to rectify the man.

"Adoptive brother."

Unfazed by the knight's irritable mood, Kaeya crosses his arms and nonchalantly toys with his nails. Diluc, rolling his eyes, shifts his attention to the pair he's been tailing. He silently curses upon spotting them entering one of the numerous restaurants lining the main street.

"Fantastic, just splendid. Now, either you willingly return to Varka and the Tianquan, or I'll simply knock you out and leave you here until I'm done."

"Or, I could help you get to the bottom of your self-assigned heroic mission, because I know troubles come when you get impulsive like that."

Diluc grunts in his breath, accepting the situation as it is, much to the patched eye knight's delight.

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In the Liuli Pavilion, customers savored their meals in tranquility, engaging in cheerful conversations about their day and the latest gossip. However, an air of tension hung over the staff tonight. While some attributed it to the festivities taking place, little did they know that the luxurious VIP room, a privilege only accessible to a select few in Teyvat, had been reserved for the evening by one of the renowned harbinger.

Raising his wine glass, the ninth harbinger subtly toasts the occasion with his present partner. Sipping the drink, he places it meticulously on the table, ensuring his actions meet the standards of the person sitting across from him. As his lavender eyes gracefully meet yours, he can feel his smile growing fondly.

"Now that I think about it, you never gave me one of your intertwined fate, hum~?"

His comment makes you scoff in slight mockery, amused by his phrasing.

"You know very well that's not how it works."

Sadly for you, he isn't one to back down easily, he tends to lean more towards negotiation. Despite having performed numerous deeds for you, the unfortunate truth is that you've settled every debt owed to him. Your shared appreciation for fairness is a quality he respects. Even if he loathes the lack of any blackmail's materials he could use against you, it's very unlikely that he will take action to remedy this fact.

"Even if I generously provide the goods~?"

Setting aside your chopsticks, you emphasize your point. Normally, engaging in a debate with him would be enjoyable, but at the moment, you don't have the mind for such mental games.

"Pantalone."

Considering his personality, you should have known that such a small display won't faze him.

"[Name]."

You sigh and focus your attention on the meal he graciously covered for you. Though you could have easily afforded it, you appreciate the care. While savoring your food and avoiding prolonged eye contact, your pointed ear twitches at a sudden yet subtle sound.

"Is something disturbing you ?"

Glancing discreetly at one of the open windows, you reassure the man, hoping to lessen his keen interest in your every move. His meticulous gaze is bound to make you uneasy. It would be in your best interest to change the subject.

"A war is brooming."

The revelation doesn't appear to surprise the man greatly as he gestures for you to carry on.

"Hum ? And, what kind ?"

"I cannot see what the future unfolds, Pantalone, I'm no seer. It could be harsh, fierce or treacherous, I wouldn't know."

Chuckling, the man runs his finger along the rim of his glass before indulging in another sip.

"I'm gonna need more information, my dear. I'm afraid I can't do much with only an assumption."

Seizing your food in a more aggressive manner, you point your chopsticks towards the man's face.

"It's far from a possibility, it will happen."

Pantalone leans to eat the food held between your utensils with a rather teasing smile. He finishes his mouth while whipping any condiment that might have clung to his lips.

"Hm, quite salty if you want my opinion. Anyway, how come one who can't grasp the future like you, your words not mine, seems so convinced that a war will occur, hum~?"

As a way to turn back on him, you snatch a portion of his food directly from his plate. Deliberately savoring each bite at a slow pace, your resentful gaze remains fixed on his. You're not one who likes to share.

"I didn't know you could be childlike, it's quite cute~."

Clearing your throat, you refuse to get embarrassed by such words.

"As I was saying, I am sure it will happen because it concerns my kind."

As you finish your plate, you fold your hands together, creating a makeshift headrest. You catch the curious gaze of the harbinger as he gestures you to pursue.

"They have started to show an interest in this world. And believe me that it will get ugly once they come here. After all, Teyvat and its people are one of a kind."

Pantalone appears to think for a moment, his usual smile shifting in a subtle frown.

"I understand now the kind of problems such scenery could cause... What about you ? What would you do if- I mean, when the time comes ?"

You smile brightly, seemingly eager to answer this specific question. The man cannot help but notice the subtle glimmers of light shining softly around your head. While you may view it as an annoying flaw, he appreciates the element's reactions to your mystical presence. These manifestations are a giveaway on your feelings, making it easier for him to read.

He chuckles to himself while reminded of that one time steam literally came out of your ears.

"I already planned everything to the last minus detail, you don't have to worry about me."

Pantalone returns your smile and not so subtly extends his hand toward yours. He smoothly intertwines his fingers with yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

"Oh I'm not worried, I know you're capable~. I was merely curious if you would be more... open at the thought of fulfilling your role as a guide, especially in this context. After all, you still lack a main vessel, don't you ?"

You swiftly withdraw your hand from his grasp before standing up. Your gaze shifts to the open window where a little wick of red could be seen next to a soft looking lock of blue.

"Our time together was pleasant, but i'm afraid you'll have to excuse me."

As you take your leave, Pantalone's smile fades as he too stands up from his seat. It seems he took things too personal again. He approaches the staff member, seemingly waiting for the dinner's payment, and gives him the right amount via a lavish bag full of moras.

"H-hope to see you again, s-sir."

Disregarding the pitiful display, he leaves the establishment , wondering when he might have the opportunity to see you once more.

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"Ningguang, please, i beg of you to listen to reason. This kind of threat doesn't loom over Mondstadt alone, all of Teyvat is at risk."

The grand master of the Knights of Favonius searches fervently for any signs of concern in the reddish eyes of the woman before him, yet her smile remains calm and unfazed. Her presence commands respect as she speaks to the man in an eloquent tone, dismissing his concerns with a flick of her fan.

"I am well aware of the situation in the north and the peril it poses, Varka. However, I feel the need to remind you that our capabilities are limited in addressing this issue."

The towering man forcefully slams his fist on the woman's desk, causing some paperwork to flutter down gradually. Under normal circumstances, Varka isn't someone to easily lose his composure. Yet, with the recent surge of problems, even his usual calm begins to falter.

"Stop beating around the bush !"

Displeased with the man's tone, Ningguang rises from her seat and strides toward the irritated knight. She seizes the man's cheeks, causing him to grunt from the pressure made by her claw-like jewelry.

"The Qixing and I are currently deeply engaged in the construction of the Jade Chamber, i cannot allow half of the millith's forces to join the knights of favonius in a perilous mission doomed unsucessfull. Do i make myself clear ?"

Varka attempts to free himself from Ningguang's grasp by reaching for her hand, but the noblewoman prevents him from doing so by stepping back herself. Seated elegantly on her desk, she discards her fan to take a slight inhale from her pipe, attentively observing the resentful gaze of the man.

"I came to Liyue believing that the Tianquan would be the most understanding. Unfortunately, it seems that selfishness plagues all nations."

"Cut her some slack old man, not everybody is willing to die for some greater good. Here, have a drink."

Varka looks at the half-naked woman slouching on the expensive couch while presenting him an opened flask, most likely containing alcohol. The man averts his eyes, embarrassed by her shameless behavior.

"Oh archons, please, have some decency."

The woman slowly rises from the couch and approaches the man with an unusual sway. As she walks towards him, she struggles to maintain balance on her two feet. Her body moves uncontrollably, resembling the unsteady motion of a boat. Stopping uncomfortably close to Varka, to his displeasure, she fervently pokes his chest.

"Well, look who's talking! You're the one who barged in uninvited in the middle of the night while this elegant lady and I were enjoying a wonderful night of passion."

Ningguang observes the interaction closely but takes no action to intervene as the woman keeps on intruding the man's personal space. However, her passive behavior changes abruptly when her loved one begins to slide her hand under Varka's uniform.

"Beidou, i must advise you to refrain from teasing him, the gentleman appears to be on the brink of mortification~."

The sea woman gives the man some space without making a fuss, returning to the couch. Flopping onto it crudely, she sips her beverage while muttering inaudible words to herself. Ningguang lets out a sigh as she glances at the drunk woman pouting.

On the other hand, Varka straightens his knight's uniform, choosing to close the topic and avoid dwelling on it any further.

"Your nocturnal escapades are not on my list of interests and i'd like to keep it that way. Spare me the details and we'll all sleep a little more soundly, thank you."

Just as Beidou was about to voice her mind, the door to the private room burst open. Two young knights hurriedly entered, slamming the door shut as if sealing themselves off from a pursuing threat. Judging by Kaeya's heavy breathing, he seemed as if he had just sprinted for his life. Diluc, though equally exhausted, maintained a more composed demeanor.

"Care to explain where you two were ?"

The brothers instantly straightened from their slouching forms, standing at attention, fists over their hearts. Varka folded his arms, seemingly awaiting a response. Diluc broke the silence, his eyes challenging the Grand Master's gaze as he spoke first.

"On duty."

Kaeya scoffs dismissively, adding a sardonic remark to punctuate his disdain.

"I'm not sure discretely following a harbinger and a guide, getting discovered and almost dying on the spot was part of the mission we were assigned to."

The Tianquan's ears perk up at the mention of such individuals by the young knight. If his statement proved to be true, then troubles were brewing right under her nose. The prospect doesn't sit well with her.

Diluc quickly retorts with a tone laced with disdain, his brother's attitude getting on his nerves more than it already has.

"Would it kill you to shut your mouth once in a while ?"

"Would it kill you to respect the knight's code once in a while ?"

Beidou erupts into a loud laughter as it slowly fades into amused chuckles. In her inebriated state, the interaction between the two unfolds as a hilarious spectacle. Varka doesn't appear to find the situation funny as his facial expression twitches with carefully concealed anger.

Interestingly, Diluc appeared to share a similar state, albeit for different reasons.

"You don't even know what you're talking about."

Kaeya makes a concerted effort to maintain formation as he turns his head to look at the redhead.

"Oh, forgive me ! All you ever do is chase your damn heart's desires in the guise of justice, and that's precisely how you put not just yourself but everyone around you in danger ! You're downright inconsiderate and recklessly hot-headed."

Sensing a headache starting to form, Varka decides to finally intervene.

"That's enough, both of you. Childish bickering is unbecoming of knights. Now, I want to know where you were and what you were doing. Keep it brief."

The bluish knight keeps his eyes shut and mouth silent. His brother decides to confront the Grand Master, seemingly unimpressed by his towering composure and the fact that he could send him flying with a flick of his wrist.

"It doesn't matter what we witnessed, you couldn't possibly do anything about it anyway. Just like your expedition in the north, they won't amount to anything in the end."

The fiery attitude of the knight briefly snaps the drunk woman out of her clouded mind. She cheers with her nearly empty bottle before sleep reclaims her once more.

"Ah ! The kid got some spunk ! Reminds me of... what was his name again...?"

Diluc coughs as smoke wafts into his face. He glances at the woman responsible, who smiles while inhaling from her pipe again.

"It would be in your best interest to learn what to keep to yourself and what should be shared, boy. If a guide is indeed involved with a harbinger, something serious is looming. Trust me, you don't want the weight of people's lives on your shoulders."

The knight ignites the remaining essence inside the pipe, allowing it to burn and depriving her of anything else to smoke. The woman scoffs at the man's use of his Pyro vision. It's akin to witnessing a child throwing a tantrum for not being taken seriously. Yet, unlike the hollow threats of a kid, the fire in his eyes dared the Tianquan to change his mind.

Surveying the remaining people, he briefly locks eyes with Kaeya. Sensing his concern, yet dismissing it, he storms out of the room.

"I know what i must do, and it doesn't concern any of you."

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　　　. 　　˚　a few years later 　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ✦

A loud shattering noise brings Diluc back to his senses. He glances at the culprit and frowns upon seeing the local bard laying on the floor with a broken wine bottle. Giggling to himself, the drunkard appears to be in his own world, thoroughly enjoying himself. The bartender grabs him by his shirt, hoisting him back onto his stool.

With the late hour upon him, Diluc finds himself with only the lonesome bard as a customer. Eager to begin his journey home and well aware of this specific client's penchant to be annoying when it comes to alcohol, he decides to employ a different strategy than his usual approach.

"So, when do you think i should kick you out ?"

Venti continues to giggle slightly, leaning on the bar counter. He toys with the glass Diluc so gracefully served him, mischief forming in his eyes as he glances at the redhead. Strangely enough, he doesn't seem to be that drunk anymore.

"Let's say... If you tell me why you were lost in such a thoughtful row, i might let you know~."

The bartender dismisses it with a simple shrug, clearly not in the mood to satisfy the bard's curiosity.

"I was just reminded of something."

As the breeze softly wafts through a small crack in the bar's window, Venti's smile takes on a more knowing gleam. He slides his empty glass playfully along the counter, a silent request to get a refill. Unfortunately, Diluc only takes the glass to clean it, refusing to pour more alcohol for him.

As he resigned on getting more of the sweet beverage, Venti sighs and settles on trying to decipher the bartender's thoughts.

"Well, I don't mind to guess~."

Diluc scoffs, skeptical of the drunkard's boastful claim. While he doesn't feel the need to engage in Venti's game, a hint of curiosity lingers. Who knows, perhaps the bard might have something intriguing to say.

"I've caught wind that the traveler's back from their journey. We haven't crossed paths, but rumor has it that their tale isn't quite cheery."

As Venti's concern reflects in his eyes, Diluc can only wonder what's hidden behind those poetic rumbles.

"I've known about their return in Mondstadt for quite a while now, but i haven't gotten the chance to meet them yet."

The bard contemplates the redhead's words with a thoughtful hum. Determined to get under his skin, he retrieves his lyre, creating a gentle tune that pierces the silence in the tavern. His expression bears the weight of sorrow as he poetically expresses his thoughts.

"Let his story be a lesson.

One learned from past takes,

To steer clear of repeating mistakes.

Beware of ones who claim as guides,

for their path conceals deceptive tides.

As stories have shown,

they cannot be trusted to bring you home.

Truth easily brushed aside with vows so sweet,

Yet, remember, once humans, their hearts did beat.

Let their story be a lesson,

Unspoken, like an untold confession.

One that shall not be named,

so it may never repeat again."

As the melody gently fades away, satisfaction spreads into the bard upon witnessing surprise on the man's features.

"Hehe, told you i was good at guessing~."

In his silent contemplation, Diluc gazes at the sword that once symbolized his knighthood, now relegated to a mere wall ornament. There was a time when he wielded it with pride. These days, when confronted with his nocturnal 'duties', he opts for heavier armaments. Regrettably, without his claymore in close reach, his former sword remains the sole option should the need for self-defense arise.

"Such strange beings... Aren't they fascinating ? While not being from these lands, it feels as if they've existed here long before life itself."

Venti follows the redhead's gaze, unbothered by his cautious demeanor. After all, he, too, once felt intimidated by the mere mention of guides. Nevertheless, his past fear primarily stemmed from his unfamiliarity with them. Having personally witnessed their exceptional powers, he understands that while one should avoid provoking them, it's quite simple to earn their favor.

"Some cruel, some benevolent, they only share their pride. Powerful yet feeble, to survive, they are reliant on what they term a 'vessel'. To their host, they may seem divine, yet in truth, they're nothing but a parasite."

Observing the bard rise from his stool, Diluc steps away from the counter to obstruct the main entrance of the tavern. Crossing his arms, he challenges Venti to take another step, his pyro vision blazing brightly as a silent warning.

"How do you know so much about them ?"

Amused by the situation, the not quite inebriated individual appears unfazed by Diluc's fiery demeanor, lifting his arms in mock surrender. His eyes emit a faint glow as a gust of wind forcefully opens the window, extinguishing all the candles illuminating the tavern. Irritated by the incessant noise of the window slamming against the wall, Diluc promptly closes it. Turning his attention back to the bard, he furrows his brows upon realizing that Venti hasn't made a hasty retreat. It's peculiar since the bard is renowned for employing cunning tactics to escape undesirable situations. Venti nonchalantly shrugs in response to the accusing gaze from the redhead, as if he weren't the one responsible for the sudden gust of wind, despite the 'anemo vision' resting on his belt.

"That's a tale for another day~. What's more important is why you seem to hold such an interest in them."

Realizing the bard has no intention to utter another word, Diluc sighs and clears the path to the exit. He gestures to Venti with a nod, signaling him to leave while he allows it.

"I have my reasons."

Entertained by the fact that he didn't need to be forcibly kicked out, the bard chuckles to himself before making a swift departure, leaving his parting words to resonate in the air.

"Hehe, fair enough. But if you do wish to learn more about them, heed my advice. Fools seeking aid from those with selfish desires rarely find anything good in return."

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As waves gently caress the shore, a symphony of memories, both ancient and recent, courses through them. The gentle cadence of the sea does not drown out the melody hummed by the young man standing in the water. Unfazed by the sea reaching his knees or the cool night breeze, he stands with eyes open but vacant, bathed in the ethereal glow of the moonlight.

With utmost care, he places on the water's surface a leaf-crafted vessel bearing a delicate arrangement of flowers, a tribute to his sister. As the final notes of his haunting melody linger in the night, a lament of anguish and sorrow, he releases the makeshift boat to be carried away by the current.

Soft tears flow down his face as his voice gently wanes. Upon arriving for the first time at this shore with a solemn vow to reunite with his sister, his ignorance veiled his eyes. Admidst the new sights this world had to offer, a strange familiarity embraced him. As the wind tousled his hair down to the way the soil felt beneath his feet, it was as if he had returned home.

He reflects on his past as a soldier, an obedient one who never questioned orders, devoid of a sense of morality, discerning neither good nor bad. He was merely following commands.

He recalls about her once gentle nature, a soul averse to causing harm, adorning herself not for personal satisfaction but for others' admiration. Her explanations of right and wrong were delivered calmly, never raising her voice.

They both changed so much, left with nothing but themselves and memories to nurture. Their relationship was at the time a delicate balance, with even the smallest mistakes sparking intense fights.

With time, she developed a stronger personality, becoming more reserved and secretive. He, however, found a way to articulate his feelings, expressing himself in ways he couldn't comprehend before. She loved to tease his newfound soft side.

But someone had robbed him of that. When he encountered her again at the end of his journey, he realized he was too late. In their final meeting, although her body was still breathing, there was no soul inhabiting it, no mind radiated from her mortal shell.

As she was no longer herself, he had no option but to end her suffering.

"Well, it's not often i get to meet with you alone. Where is that little fairy friend of yours ?"

As he feels tender hands cupping his face, a smile graces his features, whispering your name. To him, it has been too long since the last time you two shared such a peaceful moment. The infrequency of your meetings only heightens the value he places on them.

"Paimon is currently receiving care from the sisters of Mondstadt's cathedral. She got quite injured during our latest adventure. As for why i am here, I needed some time alone to bid a proper farewell."

He opens his eyes, savoring the sight of yours. Their intricate hues bear untold secrets that he longs to unravel. The patterns on your skin accentuate the natural bioluminescence of your body, preserving tales from times long past. Gently, he raises his calloused hand to your own, relishing in the comfort. As he senses your delicate fingers wiping away the tears from his face, more flows out.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

As his guide, he understands the price to pay for the honor bestowed upon him. Deep down, he understands the strength and knowledge you provided were for your own survival. The love he receives depends on the satisfaction he brings to you. He doesn't care if you use him as a vulgar puppet, as long as he remains by your side. He can't lose you, not you too.

"My sister liked to say that home is wherever we are together. Since we were all that were left of our home, i guess it was true."

His voice is parched and laden with sorrow as he clings to you like he would for a lifeline.

"She was the one determined to find somewhere for us to settle. But everywhere we went, troubles came. Either we had to flee or we were chased away. Times were hard, but at least we had each other. She was the only one I could rely on."

"But times have changed; you don't have to flee anymore, you don't have to follow orders, you don't have to live in her shadow. You can listen to your heart's desires."

In the silent exchange of glances, Aether notices the profound emptiness in your eyes, a void untouched by the shared sadness or comfort he seeks. The weight of realization descends upon him, as denial attempts to cloak the newfound awareness. The touch that he craved for earlier radiated no warmth. A sense of betrayal settles over him, sending chills coursing through his body.

"... you knew."

With the guilt slowly making itself evident on your face, he pushes your hands away from his. Stumbling on his feet, the world around him spins as if he has just awakened from a profound dream. The thought of you betraying his trust unsettled him. After all, the bond you shared wasn't a trivial pinky promise but a deep connection where he lived for you, and you for him.

"... you knew it would happen... you knew and yet... you did nothing ?"

He retreats slowly toward the shore, and as you follow, your hands gently signal him to calm down, much like one would soothe a frightened animal.

"It was already too late the day i saved you from that shade."

His heart aches as your words sink in. Closing the distance between the both of you, Aether decides to listen. He allows you to take his hands in yours, feeling the squeeze accompanied by a sudden cold. It's a familiar chill that he's come to associate with your moments of sadness.

"Then why did you save me ? Why didn't you save her ? Why. Me."

You guide him gently to the dry sand, ensuring his gaze follows your movements. As you start drawing shapes on the ground, they soon come to life in a light green hue, dancing around both of you. Aether recognizes himself in one of them and reaches out to touch it. Luminescent particles spread apart at his sudden movement, only to reform elsewhere near them. The scene changes, depicting the fateful day he lost Lumine.

"... you were both destined to die. I chose you because you reminded me of my old self."

He witnesses the divine being capturing his sister only to target him next. Aether perks up by the appearance of another shape. He observes how you protect him from the deity before the scene changes once more. Nostalgia fills him as he watches you forge the bond between the two of you. A soft laugh escapes him at the sight of Paimon being fished out, breathing life into your dynamic.

"You were quite stupid and ignorant."

Beads of sweat flow down his face as the shapes replays some of his past mistakes. In an attempt to avoid further embarrassment, he raises his hand to dispel the particles. You intervene by gently seizing his hand and guiding it to his heart.

"Yet, I could sense your determination to protect what you hold dear."

His ethereal counterpart proudly raises his blade against the final obstacle in his journey. It appears fearless, prepared to confront what he believed would be its greatest foe. However, that confidence crumbles when the monstrous shape morphs into the likeness of his sister. He observes as his particle self thrusts its sword through her, taking her life. As the particles slowly disperse, he meets your gaze, bitterness filling his throat.

"If I were to apologize for all the secrets i kept from you, that would be a lie. For all I did was solely to protect you."

You embrace the boy one final time before fading away. Aether's arms linger in the air before he wraps them around himself, trembling slightly. Shivers run down his spine as he comprehends what you've left behind. He gingerly picks up the small gemstone on the sand and clenches his fist. Anger wells up within him as he gazes at the cracked little starshaped orb, a symbol of your shattered bond.

You abandoned him.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ✦

"Ugh, are you done yet ? Witnessing your sickening sweetness with him is making me nauseous."

Upon opening your eyes, you sense cramps crawling through your body, as if emerging from a deep coma. You snatch the helmet-like device off your skull and shove it away. The man attending to you utters an annoyed "watch it" in response.

"Deal with it."

The man assists you in exiting the machinery, disconnecting various tubes and electronics that monitored your health and body state. He grunts upon witnessing your attempt to straighten up quickly, and he gently compels you to lay back. Muttering additional curses, he likely expresses irritation at your impulsive actions, fully aware of the associated risks.

"Do you really need to go to such lengths? First, you toyed with his memories, and technically, you're the reason why he lost his dear 'sister.' And now, after all the efforts you put into him, you're just giving up ?"

You forcefully pull his hands away from your body and swiftly rise to your feet. Letting out a grunt, you massage your temples as a headache begins to intensify. Moving slowly, you skip a few steps, struggling to stand on your own but determined to reach a proper bed for some rest.

"I know what i have to do and i don't need your concern."

Depriving you of the chance to take another step on your own, the man hoists you onto his shoulder and carries you like a sack of potatoes. With no strength left, you acquiesce, but in silence, you mentally note to make him pay for this humiliation.

"Ugh, guides. I would never understand your kind."

You snarl and swiftly retort to his remark, delivering a quick hit to his hips.

"I am nothing like them."

The man appears unfazed by your punch, softly placing you on a very comfortable bed. He sighs at your angry gaze and flicks your forehead. It perplexes him how careless you can be when it comes to taking care of yourself, yet how gentle you are when it comes to your vessels.

"And yet, here you are, acting like one."

"And yet, here you are, taking care of me."

You lock eyes with the man, urging him to look away, but he continues to relish the moment. He neatly folds the cozy blanket atop you and tenderly traces the features of your face with his fingers. Despite his harsh and unyielding tone, his facial expression reveals another narrative, one where he could have been more sincere about his feelings.

"We just have a common enemy, nothing more."

Frustrated by his contradictory tenderness and attitude, you opt to usher him out.

"You never know when to shut your mouth do you ? I wonder where you got that."

The man scoffs and exits the room, clearly offended by your words. Finally relishing a peaceful moment, you close your eyes and envision the starry sky you've come to know by heart, one you hold dear, even if it's a mere fabrication. You identify a few constellations and recollect which ones align with your favorites.

After spending countless years in these lands, your meticulous preparations are on the verge of paying off. All the accumulated resources, weapons, and artifacts are about to prove their worth. Finally, you'll have the opportunity to engage in a game that truly fulfills your desires. One marked by chaos and unforeseeable events, where rules are broken and laws cease to matter.

Anticipation builds as you look forward to witnessing the expressions of newcomers when things deviate from their expectations, struggling to survive in a world they believed they knew.

It's going to be a gameboard where, finally, you hold the advantage.

Doesn't it sound fun ?

{Words : 5629}

Thank you for reading the first part of the series !

I hope you enjoyed :D

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nenelonomh · 4 months

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organization 101

organization is about how we gather stimuli in our environment to complete tasks quickly and more effectively. it's about arranging our surroundings, providing order, and structuring items and activities around us.

this topic can be applied in so many instances - including physical spaces, digital files, schedules, and mental clarity.

staying organized offers several benefits:

★ when you're organized, you waste less time searching for things or figuring out what to do next. this efficiency leads to increased productivity

★ clutter and chaos can contribute to stress. an organized environment promotes a sense of calm and control.

★ organization helps you allocate time effectively. you can prioritize tasks and allocate resources efficiently.

★ a clutter-free workspace (or living space) allows you to concentrate better on the task at hand.

★ organized spaces encourage healthier habits, such as regular exercise, balanced meals, and adequate rest.

but how can you stay organized?

★ start with one area of focus (e.g. closet, desk, documents, ...) and gradually expand. focusing on one area allows you to see tangible progress, and as you declutter or organize, you'll build momentum to tackle other spaces.

trying to organize everything at once can be overwhelming. by narrowing your focus, you can prevent feeling swamped. concentrating on a specific area also allows you to learn effective strategies,, which you can apply to other parts of your life!

★ keep a to-do list. you can use a planner or digital tools to track tasks - and prioritize and sort tasks by urgency. write things down promptly to avoid forgetting them.

by freeing your mind from trying to remember all of your tasks, this mental offloading allows you to focus on the present moment. you can also assign urgency and importance, ensuring you will tackle what matters most.

★ give everything a home. clutter happens when items lack designated spaces. organize your physical and digital spaces intentionally.

★ once organized, maintain order consistently by building habits and systems. regularly review and adjust your systems when needed.

maintaining daily habits can significantly contribute to staying organized.

digital files

personally, the biggest issue i have with organization is building (and maintaining) a good system for digital files. it is crucial for me to learn how to organize these well, however, as a digital creator.

here is the process:

★ create a folder structure,, and design a clear hierarchy of folders that reflect your workflow. organize files logically based on projects, departments, dates, or file types.

at the moment i sort my files as content home < links, content plan, instagram, pinterest, tumblr, youtube < scheduling, post ideas

however, sometimes i find myself with documents that don't fit any of these sections. my plan for the future is to reorganize this to be the most effective it can.

★ use descriptive file names,, and name files clearly and concisely. include relevant keywords to make searching easier

★ consider using tags to categorize files across multiple dimensions. tags enhance searchability and allow flexible organization.

this is something that i am looking to employ!

★ utilize cloud services like google drive or dropbox for easy access from anywhere.

i will forever be a notion girl,, even though it is not quite a cloud service, it allows me a similar experience.

★ make decluttering a routine. delete duplicate or unnecessary files.

★ pin essential folders to your sidebar for quick access.

physical decluttering

writing this, i was reminded of the (horrid) bedrotting trend, especially those videos where people would show their rooms with shit everywhere and mould growing on stuff. i'm aware that some people find it super hard to maintain organization or declutter - hoarding is a very real issue.

the benefits of staying organized were previously mentioned, but decluttering specifically has its own little set of positives. this includes reduced stress, improved focus, enhanced productivity, and more positive overall wellbeing.

here are some essential tips if you are struggling to get started:

choose a small area or category to begin decluttering. set a timer (15-30 minutes) and sort items in that area into 'keep', 'donate', 'trash', or 'unsure' piles.

you could also attempt a room-by-room approach, by tackling one room at a time. focus on completing each room fully before moving on to the next.

try to organize your belongings into categories (keep, donate, sell, discard) to make decisions easier.

remember - progress comes from consistent effort, and small steps lead to a clutter-free space.

further reading

i hope today's post was helpful!

as for further reading, check out these sites: ★ How to Declutter Your Home: 6 Best Room-by-Room Methods (thespruce.com) ★ First Steps to Decluttering - Understanding the Clutter - Being Minimalist ★ Productivity, Organization & Personal-Development | 101 Planners ★ Executive Functioning Skills 101: Organization | Life Skills Advocate ★ How to Be Organized - 10+ Habits - Organized 31 ★ How to Be More Organized & Productive | 10 Habits for Life Organization (youtube.com) ★ How to Be More Organized (verywellmind.com) ★ How to Organize Your Digital Files | Reviews by Wirecutter (nytimes.com) ★ Master How to Organize Digital File Management (riverfy.com)

❤️ nene

image source: pinterest

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seniorpollinationtechnician · 4 months

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Ethan spent the next three hours in his cluttered office, surrounded by stacks of old files and a mess of digital archives on his computer. Eventually, ISAAC's voice broke the silence. "Ethan, I have located several encrypted documents closely related to your search history. Shall I bring them up?"

After a vocal confirmation, ISAAC remotely accessed Ethan's computer and began displaying a series of decrypted files with some title variation of 'Chrysalis_2023'. Project Chrysalis had been one of his most secretive assignments while working with the government where he had been tasked with engineering a containment and analysis system for biological entities. The government's vague description alluded to 'non-terrestrial biological entities', which Ethan naively interpreted as some advanced biological research.

The digital files were heavily redacted but offered enough information to remind him that he had physical evidence as well. He eventually found a folder containing detailed schematics alongside his own annotations on the nature of the project. One document in particular, an incident report, caught his eye.

Entry Date: 04/12/2023 Subject: NTBE X-23 Humanoid organism measuring 1.8 meters (6 ft.) in height. Bipedal locomotion. Epidermis is a pale yellow tone. Facial structure similar to that of a human being but with eight black eyes arranged in a symmetrical pattern. Indecipherable markings around the eyes. Subject arrived unconscious and has not regained consciousness throughout the observation period. Subject X-23 was transferred from the recovery unit into the primary containment chamber at 1100 hours. Upon entering the containment unit, the subject's vital signs surged. Subject X-23 abruptly regained consciousness and exhibited erratic behavior. Witnesses claimed to have seen something move within the subject's skin. Vocalizations consistent with an unknown language were recorded (see audio log 0134-B1). Linguistic analysis is ongoing. The subject shortly underwent a rapid biological transformation. Epidermal surfaces split open, extruding long, vine-like protrusions tipped with bioluminescent nodules. The cranial structure split open longitudinally, revealing a maw lined with razor-sharp teeth. At 1400 hours, Subject X-23 initiated a violent attack on the containment unit. The material composition used proved insufficient. A containment breach occurred at 1405 hours. Specimen X-23 lunged at Dr. ■■■■, inflicting a fatal laceration to the abdomen. Security personnel were authorized to terminate the threat. Subject X-23 was neutralized at 1410 hours. Residual specimens are being collected for further analysis. The containment unit is undergoing repairs and biohazard decontamination. Further research is on hold pending reevaluation of containment protocols.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #the ■■■■■■ legacy #ts4 legacy #the sims #I couldn't resist posting an extra chapter #love me some breached containment

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littlesweetchurro · 4 days

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Malfunctioned

Chapter Four

Bakugou's eye twitched as he followed the receptionist down yet another winding hallway. How fucking big was this place? And why did it smell like burnt coffee and desperation?

"Here we are, sir," the woman chirped, gesturing to a door at the end of the hall. "Your technician will be with you shortly."

He grunted in response, shouldering past her into the workshop. The door swung shut behind him with a soft click, leaving him alone in the chaos.

And chaos it was. Workbenches overflowed with half-finished projects and scattered tools. Blueprints and schematics papered the walls, covered in scribbled notes and calculations. The air hummed with the buzz of machinery and the faint scent of ozone.

Bakugou's lip curled. Looked like a fucking tornado had hit the place. How the hell was anyone supposed to work in this mess?

But as he looked closer, he started to see a method to the madness. Each workbench seemed dedicated to a specific project, the tools arranged for easy access. The blueprints on the walls were grouped by hero, their notes color-coded and organized.

It was chaos, yeah, but it was efficient chaos.

Things were better cleanly organized.

He prowled the perimeter of the room, eyes sharp for any sign of incompetence. A half-assembled gauntlet caught his attention, its inner workings exposed. He leaned in for a closer look. The design was intricate, the craftsmanship precise. It wasn't bad. Not bad at all.

A loud crash from the hallway made him whip around. The door flew open, revealing a woman struggling with an armful of equipment.

"Sorry about that!" she called over her shoulder to someone out of sight. "I've got it under control!"

She kicked the door shut behind her and turned, freezing when she saw him. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before her face settled into a professional mask.

"Dynamight," she said, nodding in greeting as she dumped her load onto a nearby workbench. "I'm your assigned technician. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Bakugou sized her up. She wasn't what he'd expected. No starry-eyed hero worship, no cowering at his reputation. Just cool professionalism.

"'Bout fucking time," he growled, crossing his arms. "You always keep your clients waiting?"

She didn't flinch at his tone, just raised an eyebrow. "Only the ones who show up early," she replied smoothly. "Now, I understand you're having issues with your gauntlets?"

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Shit. He was early.

"Yeah," he said, recovering quickly. He reached into his bag and pulled out the malfunctioning gear, tossing it onto the workbench. "Firing mechanism's fucked. Blasts are weak, misfiring all over the place. Fix it."

The technician's eyes lit up at the sight of the gauntlets, her hands already reaching for them. She tried to suppress a smile, but failed. Fucking nerd. "I see. And when did you first notice the issue? Was it a gradual decline in performance or a sudden malfunction?"

That was... actually a good question.

"Gradual," he admitted grudgingly. "Started about a month ago. Thought it was just wear and tear at first, but it kept getting worse."

She nodded, her fingers delicately dancing over the gauntlets as she examined them. "Any recent impacts or exposure to extreme temperatures? And how often do you clean the nitroglycerin storage system?"

"No impacts. Been careful with the temp since the last fuck-up. And I clean it after every patrol, what do you take me for, an amateur?"

The technician looked up, meeting his glare with a level gaze. "I take you for a professional who knows the importance of proper maintenance," she said. "Now, have you noticed any changes in the viscosity of your sweat when using the gauntlets?"

Who the fuck was this woman?

"Yeah, actually," he said slowly. "It's been thicker lately. Harder to ignite."

She nodded, her fingers moving to the ignition mechanism. "That could be part of the problem. The viscosity change might be throwing off the calibration. When was the last time you had the storage system's coating replaced?"

Bakugou scowled. "Coating? What fucking coating?"

The technician looked up, surprise flashed across her face, then vanished. "The hydrophobic coating on the interior of the storage system," she explained. "It prevents your sweat from adhering to the walls, ensuring smooth flow to the ignition point. It needs to be replaced periodically, especially with quirks as potent as yours."

Bakugou felt his face heat up, a mix of embarrassment and anger churning in his gut. How the fuck did he not know about this? And how did she know so much about his quirk?

"No one ever mentioned a fucking coating," he growled, his hands sparking.

The technician didn't even flinch at the small explosions. Instead, she just nodded, her focus already back on the gauntlets. "That explains a lot. The degradation of the coating would cause exactly the kind of issues you're experiencing. We'll need to strip it down, reapply the coating, and recalibrate the entire system."

She looked up at him, and smiled. "I can fix this, Dynamight. But it's going to take time, and I'm going to need your cooperation. Think you can handle that?"

Bakugou bristled at her tone, ready to snap back. But something in her steady gaze and confident posture made him pause. This wasn't some simpering fan or cowering technician. This was someone who knew her shit and wasn't afraid to call him on his.

Fucking finally someone competent.

"Fine," he growled, uncrossing his arms. "What do you need?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "First, I need you to tell me everything about how these gauntlets interact with your quirk. Leave nothing out, no matter how small it might seem. Can you do that?"

Bakugou scanned the tech's face. "Oh, I can do that. Question is, can you keep up?"

The technician's smile widened. "Try me."

You carefully lifted the gauntlet, cradling it like a newborn as your eyes drink in every detail. They were beautiful.

It was heavier than you had originally suspected— not good.

Your fingers traced the simple yet effective mechanisms.

"So, when you activate your quirk, does the nitroglycerin flow evenly through all channels, or do you notice any variance?" you asked, not taking your eyes off the equipment.

Dynamight scowled, his arms crossed tightly over his rather toned chest. "It's supposed to be even, but lately the left side's been weaker. And don't fucking manhandle it like that!"

"Relax. I'm not going to break it." You turned the gauntlet over, examining the ignition mechanism. "Though from the looks of it, someone's already done a number on these beauties."

His scowl deepened, a vein throbbing in his forehead. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You shrugged, a small smirk playing on your lips. "Just an observation. These modifications here," you pointed to a series of adjustments near the wrist, "they're not part of the original design, are they?"

His chest puffed out. "No," he growled, "but they improved the response time."

"Ah," you nodded, your tone dry. "That explains a lot."

His eyes narrowed dangerously and for a second you thought you fucked up. You were provoking a beast. A beast that easily blow up your measly quirkless, weak self. "And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You set the gauntlet down gently, meeting his glare with a level gaze. No use backing down now.

He wasn't about to intimate you in your space. "It means, Dynamight , that while your modifications are... creative, they've compromised the integrity of the original design. See here?" You pointed to a hairline crack in the casing. "And here? These stress points are weakening the entire structure."

The hero gritted his teeth, his hands clenching at his sides. "It fucking improved them!"

"You certainly tried ," you smirked. "But unless your goal was to turn these into wearable pipe bombs, I'd say you missed the mark."

He looked at you like you had just murdered his puppy. You darted your eyes to avoid looking at him. He literally was the embodiment of the expression if looks could kill.

"Who exactly did these modifications? Because whoever it was, they clearly didn't understand the delicate balance of the original design." You quickly added.

His scowl deepened, if that was even possible. He looked like he was about to explode - figuratively and possibly literally. "It was the head of my support department, Haruto. He said he could improve them."

You couldn't help but let out a derisive snort. "Well, Haruto did a horrible job. These alterations are amateur at best, dangerous at worst."

"The fuck did you just say?"

You met his glare head-on, you reminded yourself that you had not hurt his puppy nor were you responsible for this shitty job. "I said Haruto did a horrible job. Look," you pointed to the gauntlet, "he's compromised the structural integrity here and here. The flow regulators are completely off-balance, which explains why your left side feels weaker. And don't even get me started on the ignition timing."

You shook your head, genuinely appalled. This Haruto character should be embarrassed to have a hero wear this kind of crap. "Whoever this Haruto is, he clearly doesn't understand the complexities of your quirk or the precision required for this level of support gear. These modifications aren't just ineffective, they're potentially hazardous. One wrong move and these things could backfire spectacularly."

"So what the fuck are you saying? That I've been using fucked up gear this whole time?"

You nodded grimly. "That's exactly what I'm saying. And frankly, it's a miracle you haven't had a serious malfunction yet."

For a moment, you thought he might actually explode and that this would the end to your short career. ' Death by being a smart ass', your headstone would read. His whole body tensed, small pops emanating from his palms. But then, to your surprise, he deflated, much like a balloon that had been sitting on the sun for a day too long.

"Just... fix the damn things," he growled.

And you lived another day.

You nodded, turning back to the gauntlets. As you bend over the workbench, you could feel his crimson eyes on you. The weight of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes tracked every moment, every time you touched something he leaned in a bit closer. It was… unnerving, it made you feel like a common criminal.

You cleared your throat. "So, about that left side weakness. When did you first notice it?"

As Dynamight launched into a detailed explanation, you let your eyes flick over to him. He was gesticulating wildly, his muscular arms flexing with each movement. Your gaze trailed down his body, taking in the way his hero costume clings to every defined muscle.

He definitely did not look like Rubber Man. Not that did that matter of course. All heroes were the same.

You shook your head, forcing your attention back to the task at hand. Focus, dammit. You're a professional not an ogling fan.

"...and then it just fucking sputtered out," Dynamight finished, glaring at the offending gauntlet.

You nodded, processing the information you did manage to get. "Alright, I think I see the problem. Or rather, problems. Plural."

His eyebrow twitched. "The fuck does that mean?"

You took a deep breath, no backing down, you reminded yourself. "It means, Dynamight, that these gauntlets are a mess. A beautiful, complex mess, but a mess nonetheless."

His hands spark dangerously. "Watch it, nerd."

You ignored the threat and the jab. "First off, the coating issue we discussed earlier? That's just the tip of the iceberg. The storage system is completely gunked up, which is throwing off the flow dynamics. Your modifications to the ignition system have created micro-fissures in the casing, which are letting in moisture and compromising the nitroglycerin's stability."

He opened his mouth to argue, but you plowed on. "The left side weakness? That's because your 'improvements' have put uneven stress on the firing mechanism. And don't even get me started on the calibration issues."

You paused meeting his furious red gaze. "Simply put, Dynamight, these gauntlets are accidents waiting to happen. You're lucky they haven't blown up in your face yet."

For a long moment, he didn't speak and all you could do was hold your breath. The explosion hero's face cycled through emotions, one quickly following the other. His anger was a wildfire, consuming his face. It was quickly replaced by a look of shock, indignation and finally disgust.

"So what the fuck do we do about it?" he demanded.

You grinned. "We fix it. More than that, we improve it. I've got some ideas that could take these from potential pipe bombs to precision instruments."

Dynamight leaned in and crossed his arms across his broad, hard chest. "Like what?"

"We can redesign the storage system to be more efficient, allowing for larger blasts without increasing the overall size. A new alloy for the casing would improve durability while reducing weight. And if we reconfigure the ignition mechanism, we could give you finer control over your explosions, maybe even allow for different types of blasts."

As you spoke, his anger faded, replaced by his brows furrowing together. He was following every word, occasionally nodding or frowning.

Good at least he had the brains to follow along.

"And the best part," you finished, slightly breathless, "is that we can incorporate some of your ideas too. That response time improvement? With a few tweaks, we can make it work without compromising the structural integrity."

He was quiet for a long moment, something you thought was impossible, his red eyes boring into you. You met his gaze steadily, even if you were sure he could explode you with his eyes.

People couldn't just get new quirks right? He couldn't blow you up with his eyes, right?

"How long?"

"Excuse me?"

"How long to make all these fucking changes?" he snapped.

Good question but God did he need to be so snappy about it?

"Given the extent of the work... two weeks, minimum. Probably closer to three."

Bakugo scowled. "Too fucking long. I need them for patrol."

You shook your head. "Sorry, not happening, Dynamight. These gauntlets aren't safe in their current condition. I won't rush the job and risk your safety."

He eyed you like you just kicked an old lady. "The fuck did you say?"

Fuck this guy and that tone of his.

"You heard me. I won't half-ass this job just because you're impatient. You want these gauntlets fixed and improved? Then you'll give me the time I need to do it right."

Hold your ground, damn it! Don't you dare give in!

For a tense moment, you though he might actually attack you. He could probably get away with murder, that is if there was still a body behind. But then, to your surprise, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Fine," he growled. "Three weeks. But they better be fucking perfect when you're done."

And you live another day.

"Trust me, Dynamight. When I'm done with these, they'll be more than perfect. They'll be explosive."

#fanfic #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #pro hero bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #pro heroes #fem reader #reader insert #boku no hero academia

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stargazer-tps · 2 months

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Undertale Voice Musings + Choir

Fact: I am a huge choir nerd.

Fact: Back in like 2019, I made a soundfont using the Undertale characters' voice blips, and recently re-made that soundfont to work better, creating things like this:

This one is "Your Fault" from Stephen Sondheim's Into the Woods. Featuring Asriel as Jack, Sans as The Baker, Shyren as Cinderella, Gaster as Little Red Riding Hood, and Temmie as The Witch.

In addition to making a soundfont that just re-pitches the blips as they exist in-game, I also made one that loops a portion of the sound so the notes can be sustained, which means I can make cool choir pieces like these:

This one is "Dunkelian Lullaby," a choir piece I composed a while back. If you like this one, I do plan on selling the sheet music for it on MusicaNeo as Eila Mirlen! Keep an eye out for it there ;)

This one is "Love is Love is Love is Love," by Abbie Betinis, from the Justice Choir Songbook. If you're a choir nerd or a teacher looking for free, accessible, quality music, I would definitely check it out!

Anyway, the fun part is that if you listen closely, even in the sustained soundfont, you may be able to pick out the characters' individual voices. For example, Sans and Gaster tend to be pretty loud. Flowey and Temmie are also pretty obnoxious (I have them turned way down in the last example, but they should be in your right ear.)

Some Notes on Ranges

The thing about these guys is that they are... not real and literally just cool synthesizers, so technically they can sing in any range. However, like with voices, they do have ranges they sound the best in and—related specifically to this soundfont I made—here are my notes about where I would place each character in a choir! (Note that I often break these assignments when I arrange choir stuff with these guys just because the number of characters on each part is out of balance otherwise.)

Temmie and Gaster have the largest ranges, being able to sing 5 octaves (although Gaster cheats and goes back down the octave sometimes, like a Shepard tone—I’ve futzed with his voice enough already and don’t feel like fixing it). Temmie’s 5 octaves, surprisingly, starts an octave lower than Gaster’s. (Damn, Temmie.)

Shyren, Mettaton, and Undyne are close behind. They can each sing 4 octaves; Shyren’s range sits one octave higher than Mettaton and Undyne’s. (Admittedly, Undyne’s very low range sounds a lot like burps, but it’s very strong anyway.)

Toriel, Asgore, Asriel, Flowey, and Alphys have a large range of 3 octaves, Asgore starting lowest, then Flowey, then Asriel and Toriel and Alphys.

Sans and Papyrus have the smallest ranges, at 2 octaves, and they are exactly the same.

NOTE: technically—being synthesizers—all of them can sing past these given ranges. But at the low end they tend to sound burpy and bad, and at the very high end they might be too quiet to be worthwhile.

Ideal Ranges:

Note: many of them can sing in multiple ranges—as seen above—but these are the ones I put them in most often based on where their original voice clips sit (the root) AND the vibes they give me (with some exceptions).

Alphys: Alto - root = F4

Asgore: Bass – root = E3

Asriel: General Treble (tend towards soprano range) – root = A-A♭4

Flowey: General Treble (tend towards mezzo range) – root = E4

Gaster: Baritone/Tenor – root = all over the place because I used 7 different clips for him. Most of the fun timbre switching happens in the two octaves between C3 and C5.

Mettaton: Baritone/Tenor (tend towards tenor range) – root = E♭4

Papyrus: Baritone/Tenor (He CAN sing in a lower range, but it’s not quite as nice as the higher range) – root = E♭4

Sans: Tenor/Countertenor (controversially, I might add. IDK, he can sing in a low range but IMO it sounds... bad, especially when he’s not sustaining the notes because then he just sounds like he’s burping. Actually, for that reason I usually stick him on alto parts) – root = E-E♭4 (you could argue I have the octave wrong, but even then, his root is E-E♭3 and I would still probably stick him more in the tenor range than the bass range—pitches lower than his root sound... not very good. I think he just has a very resonant voice.)

Shyren: Soprano – root = B♭4

Temmie: Soprano – root = G4 (with the caveat that if she’s not sustaining notes, the mezzo-range is stronger for her)

Toriel: Soprano/Mezzo – root = E♭4 (I try to put her and Asriel on different parts because *technically* their voices are exactly the same; Toriel’s speaking voice in-game is just lower. I did add some vibrato to Toriel’s voice to help a little.)

Undyne: Alto/Contralto – root = B♭3

Other Notes:

Asriel sounds good staccato but is really pitchy when asked to hold a note. (I went back and fixed this. But now it’s a headcanon that he can’t hold a pitch any better than your average human child can, I guess.)

Gaster’s sustained low range is also incredibly pitchy. A little sharp, maybe, up until A3. (I fixed this, too. He also no longer jumps octaves in the middle of his range for no reason.)

Papyrus is also INCREDIBLY pitchy when sustaining notes. (This got fixed. But now the headcanon is that he’s maybe a little tone-deaf, or maybe he just gets overexcited and pushes himself sharp or flat.)

Sans actually sounds like… a lot BETTER when sustained, throughout his range because it no longer has the quality of a burp.

Shyren’s voice is strong but her major scale sounds minor when she sustains notes and its weird??? Very flat. (This was also an error on my part, because my tuning skills are bad at 9 o’clock at night. Maybe she tends to fall flat when she’s nervous.)

Temmie sounds good no matter what range. A little trumpet-like, though, and can be overpowering.

Toriel also sounds really good sustained and a lot stronger. She’s still pretty quiet tho.

Alphys’ high range is stronger when sustained.

Undyne’s fine. Weaker in the high range in general.

Flowey is LOUD and OBNOXIOUS.

Range Samples

The image above just shows you which notes and stuff are playing in the above example. Each character starts with "speaking" on the same pitch their voice sounds in game (approximately, in some cases), then a two-octave scale to show off the qualities of their low, mid, and high ranges.

#undertale #choir #alphys #asgore #asriel #flowey #gaster #mettaton #papyrus #sans #shyren #temmie #toriel #undyne

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tallerthantale · 9 months

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What Does Aziraphale Actually Believe, Part 4: Heaven is Wrong

This is a series of my takes on what Aziraphale believes through the timeline of the show. It is all my personal interpretation, and I am happy to hear others. You don’t need to read them all in order, but know that I am coming from a perspective on Aziraphale’s machinations that can be difficult for people without a psychology background to follow without the first two as a primer. The quick version is that Aziraphale has a set of beliefs that exist in some form or another within his mind. However, at any given moment, only some of them exist ‘with awareness’ or as I am putting it here, conscious!Aziraphale only has access to the beliefs that the rest of his mind, veil!Aziraphale, allows him to know about. The context of the moment will determine what lives on the surface and what stays buried behind the veil, whatever arrangement best prevents a threat to Aziraphale’s sense of self and makes whatever he is inclined to do feel right.

This post is all concentrated Job saga, though it skips over the ox rib, which I’m saving for the next post. About 3.5k words. I got carried away with the length again. I really meant to keep it shorter.

Uz is where things get really interesting. It's also where a lot of the fandom, in my opinion, gets a bit thrown off. That's because the events at Uz are 4500 years before the modern era. All the character growth we see here is well over 4k years old, and that has a lot of people wondering, where the fuck did that character growth go? How could the angel that did all that so far back still not understand heaven is just as bad all that time later? The first answer is that Aziraphale doesn’t have consistent beliefs, he has options for what he can believe that get selected from to fit the situation. The second answer is that there are some very particular ways Aziraphale manages his rationalisations, and they are going to have a lot to do with Aziraphale's opinions on God’s ineffability.

His Children!?

When we first see Aziraphale interrupt Crowley’s workflow, he is incredibly performative. “Avaunt Foul Demon!” He drops it immediately on recognising Crowley, but he also puts it back on after. The character of “Angel of the Lord” is put on for show, and not just because he didn’t know it was Crowley in particular. “Despised Tool of Satan” is also a character that Crowley is playing. When Aziraphale calls him that, he is referring to the role, not the person. Aziraphale is popping in and out of being himself and being his job with very clear distinctions. He likewise has distinctions between Crowley’s job as the “Foul Demon” and Crowley the person, who is tasked with that job. Crowley may have been assigned the job of kill the goats, Aziraphale is determined to thwart the assignment, that doesn’t mean he has ill will towards the person tasked with it.

After the business about the permit, when it moves onto the children, his first attempt to step in about the kids is to insist to Crowley that he doesn’t HAVE TO destroy Job’s children. “Surely the great thing about being a demon is that you can do whatever you want.” It’s jealously, and Crowley calls him on it. Aziraphale insists that he is happy to have the opportunity to do whatever God wants. He believes he believes this.

Aziraphale is also revealing himself to be painfully unaware of how bad Crowley’s situation is. While this series in general and this post in particular focuses on how Aziraphale’s circumstances are really shit, I don't want to give the impression of a trauma olympics argument. I’m focusing on Aziraphale because I think he is more confusing, not because I think he has it worse.

When Crowley asks "Like killing innocent children to win a bet with Satan?" Aziraphale’s response, hushing his voice and looking to be sure the other angel’s aren’t listening, "I don't think that is what God wants." This is huge. My big recurring question for how Aziraphale deals with ineffability is: if Aziraphale doesn’t think it is possible to communicate or understand God’s will, what makes him think he knows what God wants? The only direct evidence he has of God’s opinion is God signing off on the bargain with Satan, and that doesn’t support Aziraphale’s position at all. He is clearly aware that the other angels would not support his interpretation, and has already abandoned any attempt to convince them.

The only reason Aziraphale has to conclude that God doesn’t want the kids dead is that he doesn’t like it. If something is God’s will, and he doesn't like it, that’s an existential crisis. So Aziraphale’s mind rejects that by keeping that possibility behind the veil. Remember, this is not Aziraphale debating with himself and presenting, “But if God’s opinion is Y, I don’t like that so God’s opinion must therefore be X” as an actual philosophical argument, this is veil!Aziraphale will not allow the idea “God believes Y,” to exist in conscious!Aziraphale’s perception or thoughts, and as a result “God believes X,” is the only observable opinion to consider. The reason why Aziraphale inexplicably believes a thing generally boils down to: Aziraphale isn’t emotionally prepared to deal with a reality where that thing isn’t true.

While this is the same pattern as Aziraphale being happy about the destruction of the universe / fancy wall paper plan, in that the opinion veil!Aziraphale prefers is the only observable opinion, it has one main reversal. Before Aziraphale was believing in something reprehensible to protect his personal safety. Now he is believing something dangerous to himself to protect his principles. That switch signals to me that Aziraphale has grown to a point where he has become invested enough in his experiences in the world that he is more ok with being against the institution of heaven than he is with wanton destruction.

Aziraphale can’t cope with a reality where he is misaligned with God’s will, but neither can he cope with a reality where God’s will is for him to condone child murder. Enter ineffability. God’s will is incapable of being put into words. That long permit / contract sure does seem like it’s a bunch of words. If God’s will can’t be put into words, what is She doing dicking around with contracts and permits? Being told 'this subject can't be put into words, here's a book on it' is certainly an experience, let me tell you. (Or well, I would tell you, but it would be in words, so... soz.) But if God is playing games and misrepresenting Her own will, and it is impossible to really know what God really wants, Aziraphale can just decide whatever intuitively feels right to him is God’s will. Ineffability is the life hack to end all life hacks. (This is a dangerous one IRL, see end note.)

Who’s Side Are You On?

Aziraphale thinks he knows Crowley. Crowley disagrees. Aziraphale shifts his phrasing. I know the angel you were. Crowley doesn’t disagree, but insists that isn’t who he is now. This is a point of misaligned communication. Crowley is being honest when he says that the angel he was isn’t who he is now. But in the context of the conversation, it is a statement made to support what is soon after revealed to be a lie by obfuscation. The fact that Crowley was serious about not being the angel he used to be gets lost in the reveal that Aziraphale was right about him not wanting to kill kids, human or otherwise. This lets Aziraphale hang on to the idea that Crowley is essentially still the entity that existed as an angel, and lets him read Crowley’s demonic status as a temporary state of being he is suffering under, possibly as one of God’s games.

Aziraphale sounds very smug at the revelation that Crowley did not kill the goats, and Crowley insists that they aren’t on the same side, irritated by Aziraphale’s smugness. I think this is because the way Aziraphale framed the situation, “I don’t think that is what God wants, and I don’t think you want that either” puts Crowley and God on the same side, which Crowley will not accept. Crowley thinks God wants all the kids dead. Crowley expresses that they are “(temporarily not on) (opposite sides),” since they are both going off script with their bosses. Aziraphale says “just as you say.” I think Aziraphale has changed some definitions though, and is parsing it as “(temporarily) (not on opposite sides)” where Crowley is temporarily a demon who, due to temporary demonic status, can’t technically be considered on God’s side, but is destined to return to it later.

When Jemimah asks if Crowley is a demon, Aziraphale answers “Yes, well. He is in fact, technically, a demon…”. I don’t think this is just him being embarrassed about being seen with a demon, I think Aziraphale really does think of Crowley’s demonic status as a kind of technicality. Aziraphale sees Crowley as a sort of double agent for God, whether or not Crowley sees himself that way. He digs in his heels in the cellar. “Come on, you’re a little bit on our[God’s] side.” “Well you're not on hell’s side.” “Well who’s side are you on?”

Crowley suggests he isn’t as opposed to hell as Aziraphale is framing, but ultimately characterises himself as on "My side.” Aziraphale’s response telegraphs what his line of questioning is really about. “Ours?” It's a question not an opinion, trying out what Crowley’s interpretation would mean for himself. He can’t consider himself on his own side, his mind won’t let that be an option.

When Crowley asks, Aziraphale insists that the side he’s on is “God’s, of course.” Crowley works for hell, and they talk about to what extent Crowley is on hell’s side. Aziraphale works for heaven, and in that role, and in the parallels of the language they have been using, you might expect Aziraphale to insist that he is on heaven’s side. He doesn’t, because he isn’t. He’s on God’s side, and heaven sometimes isn’t. I think at this point Aziraphale is still fairly confident God doesn’t want the children killed.

Crowley asks, “same God that wants me to whack the kids?” Aziraphale starts to answer, “Yes, but-” and Crowley cuts him off. Aziraphale doesn’t argue the point like he did before, but I think it’s mostly to do with him knowing he has no evidence. Aziraphale knows how unconvincing his own faith based reasoning is to other people, and he is smart enough to know when to leave it alone. He can’t convince the other angels to believe God secretly wants something completely different to what She’s signed off on, and right now Crowley doesn’t seem any more likely to believe something that far out of left field. Crowley hasn't been shy about his disdain for ineffability.

Can Aziraphale see himself and Crowley as together on their own side? I think not yet, not without them being the secretly aligned playing pieces of an ineffable God, or they end up avowed by the same side. For now it’s only “our side” if God is there too, or the other option, as Crowley puts it, “see you in hell.”

While I’m Wide-Eyed and I’m So Damn Caught in the Middle

(Lyrics from Strong, by London Grammar)

Aziraphale is very confident and determined to rescue the kids when he isn’t being stared down by Michael and Gabriel. He looks terrified and ashamed when he actually has to lie to them. His determination pulls him through, it helps that his default shame response is to lie, but it doesn’t feel right, and Aziraphale gets messy when it comes to things that don’t feel right.

From lying to Michael and Gabriel to waiting at the shore, Aziraphale does believe he went against God’s will, but I will argue it was only for that span and no further. Aziraphale initially thinks he has been cast out as an angel and has been turned into a demon. He has not been. He expresses that he lied to thwart the will of God. This is a departure from his earlier claim that he doesn't think killing the kids is what God wants. While Crowley agrees with the ‘thwarting the will of God’ description, I think Crowley has accidentally and unknowingly talked Aziraphale out of that interpretation by the end of the scene. (I sometimes read “the will of God” in this sentence as a term of art for the policy positions of heaven, but that feels like a cop out, so I’m going to ignore that interpretation.)

Aziraphale's claim to have lied to thwart the will of God happens when he is under the impression he is already a demon and is about to be escorted to hell. If Aziraphale believes things based on what maintains his sense of self, how did he end up putting himself, however temporarily, into the worldview that he was a fallen angel who lied to thwart the will of God? When someone motivated reasonings their way into believing something terrible, it is to prevent themselves from believing something worse. Here lies one of the biggest tragedies of Aziraphale.

At least for that span of time, waiting at the shore of Uz, he would have preferred to be a demon over being caught in the middle. When Crowley doesn’t understand why Aziraphale thinks they are going to hell together, his first choice of words to express to Crowley that he thinks he has fallen are “I’m like you now.” He could hope that the reason he didn’t fit in with heaven was because he was always supposed to be a demon, hope that he would fit in with hell and gt to work together with Crowley. The forces of hell exist because God wills it to be so, maybe he could do better as an extension of God’s will as a demon. At least then he would know what he was supposed to do, and what he was supposed to be. He could go back to just doing what he was told. None of that is realistic of course. He is trying to find something to cling to that he could believe more readily than he could cope with reality.

He now lives with a sword of Damocles on him, and will for the next 4500 years. Heaven isn’t for him, he doesn’t fit in anywhere, he will likely spend the rest of his immortal interactions with the angels locked into half honesty at best, and the only person who knows why is still his enemy on paper. Speaking freely is something he may never be able to do again. Aziraphale is stuck being internally alienated from the institution of heaven while still on opposite sides to Crowley. He is trapped in the worst of both worlds. His question to Crowley towards the end of the minisode, “but what am I?” might be the saddest line we hear from him in the show.

The Canary in the Coal Mine

By the end of the conversation he is aware he is still an angel. I believe after the sword incident, Aziraphale believes God to be omniscient, and the lack of divine punishment raining down on him is proof of God's tolerance if not approval of his actions. He thought he went too far this time, and assumed he had fallen because he assumed God would know he lied about the children. He had no reason to believe that the institution had found out, and I don’t think he believes Crowley would have told on him, certainly not as a confidently assumed given.

“You think you’re a demon? With your curly little… and your neat white…” Now that Crowley has essentially told him 'you would know if you became a demon because it would metaphysically change you,' and we saw Crowley’s wings flickering in Before the Beginning suggesting that starts kicking in at the first sign of wavering, Aziraphale can use his metaphysical state of still being fully an angel to prove that whatever he has done isn’t grounds to fall in the eyes of God. If he does ‘the wrong thing’ God would immediately know, and he would immediately change. As long as that hasn’t happened, he is aligned with God. (Crowley doesn’t interpret things the same way because he considers God to be some combination of not entirely omniscient due to not always paying attention, “God, ya listening?” and being too indifferent these days for it to matter, “That’s all it took to be a demon in the old days.”)

In Aziraphale’s mind, God instantly knows everything he did, and if he hasn't become a demon, that means his original take, that God didn't want the kids whacked, was correct. He gets to preserve the idea that he is fully aligned with God’s will. However, this opens the can of worms he had been avoiding by thinking he was getting sent to hell for thwarting the will of God. The entire rest of the population of heaven was down to whack the kids. Aziraphale now lives in a universe where publicly acting in accordance with his best guess at God's plan could be a death sentence, not because he might get it wrong, but because he might be the only one to get it right.

But if the other angels are also still angels, doesn’t that validate them too? Yes and no, but mostly no. I’m going to circle back to this in a later post, because it is big and important and needs to be discussed while integrating a lot of other things from other points on the timeline. For the time being let us understand it as: He thinks they have things wrong, but he only thinks of himself as being potentially accountable for getting things wrong.

As Aziraphale sees it in this moment, he now lives in a universe where the entire institution of heaven is dramatically misaligned with God's will, he has no power to fix it, and will be instantly crushed if he tries. Situations like these are where it gets really useful to not always consciously believe everything you believe. This is now something Aziraphale can believe when he needs to, but won’t look at when he doesn’t. A lot of the shift we will see him go through over the next 4500 years is not really how strongly he believes heaven is misaligned with his values and God’s will, it’s how easily and how often he can allow himself to believe it.

Part 4/10

End Note: Deciding that God’s will is (whatever your intuition tells you) is a very dangerous life hack that leads to a lot of extremely toxic behaviour IRL. The worst of the toxic Christians often have some version of this, where they are convinced that everything that feels right to them has been rubber stamped by God, and everything that feels wrong to them is punishable across the board. When an authoritative religion decides something is God’s will, that tends to come along with an insistence that it is everyone’s responsibility to act accordingly. If you consider yourself able to intuit what God wants, that can extend to putting yourself on a hierarchy, because what God wants is universal and has implications for everyone.

As I brought up in the ineffability post (part 3/10), Aziraphale’s concept of ineffability is a mix of Christian and Daoist themes. When Aziraphale is at his most Christian themed he can slip into the toxic controlling pattern, early Edinburgh, some of the bandstand fight, some aspects of the Ball. Where he is at his most Daoist themed, he will only apply the lifehack to deciding if his behaviour is the right choice for himself.

On a book on a subject that can't be put into words: The Daodejing opens by telling you that the Dao can't be described in words, and then proceeds to be a book on the Dao, written in words. It never presents itself as infallible or as a work of the divine, but the contradiction does still raise eyebrows for obvious reasons. The legendary origin story reconciles the contradictions by saying Laozi was essentially badgered into writing it. The text likely had multiple historical authors, so as funny as I find the Laozi being nagged into it story, I think it is better explained by an analogy from Chan Buddhism (the half Daoism precursor to Zen).

You can see the moon (the way) for yourself with or without someone pointing at it. A finger (words) pointing at the moon should not be mistaken for the moon, and no amount of pointing at the moon will force someone to see it. It's not like it's some kind of heresy to try pointing at the moon, so naturally people try. Sometimes it might help, and sometimes people decide it's actually a coded manual for how to live forever by drinking mercury. Individual results will vary.

#good omens #good omens meta #go meta #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #what does aziraphale actually believe

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