#but i dont get the feeling this is like. a very formal affair given that. again. i was invited less than a month in advance
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im losing my mind rn cuz my high school bestie is getting married POSSIBLY tomorrow?? I DONT ACTUALLY KNOW because her mom texted me to ask for my address to send an invitation like LATE SEPTEMBER and I never got it in the mail so I figured oh she probably meant next year! ok :) and then just now I started thinking about it and was like shit maybe she meant this year cause like, she said "October 26th" which would imply that it's the upcoming October 26th right?? so I fucking texted her an hour ago like haha hi Colleen just wanted to double check on the wedding situation what's going on. where and when is this happening. which feels SO FUCKING INSANE to text someone THE NIGHT BEFORE A WEDDING (possibly) to ask where it is but in my defense she is also the one who told me to save the date *less than a month in advance* so I'm not sure where I stand rn etiquette-wise but like! very weird sitch in general
#like. she hasnt responded so im about to be that person literally texting the morning of a wedding to ask where it is 😐#but i dont get the feeling this is like. a very formal affair given that. again. i was invited less than a month in advance#and never got the actual invitation in the mail 😭😭😭😭#like i just figured well i guess its not happening then! but now my tummy hurts cause i dont wanna miss her wedding#ive been a terrible friend i stopped communicating and havent kept in touch at all and just. wasnt a good friend. in general#like i wasnt mean or anything its just the lack of communication thing#mia.txt
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GREED: moonlight [oh sehün] (m)
part I of all your gods are fake
summary: sehün craves control. he craves power. he craves and craves and you give your all to satisfy him. you give, and give, and give. but will it ever be enough?
pairing: cultleader!sehün x fem reader
genre: smut, light angst, light fluff
warnings: language, descriptions of cults, graphic descriptions of sex, unprotected sex (dont be a fool wrap ur tool), spanking, sir kink, orgasm denial, french kissing
song rec: jonghyun - moon ♡ bleachers & sia - like a river runs ♡ arctic monkeys - all my own stunts
word count: 4.3k
a/n: this was originally posted to my old blog on november 16th, 2019.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/cbf8bdfbdffb44c53636a8138065bb3a/e23ba53cc2f80771-8e/s540x810/880774a018ed439433932672a6c1d76e4d8b7ab8.jpg)
masterlist
You were in your bedroom when he came to you. This, you found strange. You were perplexed when you turned to see Sehün of all people, when you heard the door open and close.
He never came to you—it was always who went to him when he summoned you to his chambers. But you’d received no summons, and yet here he was, decked in his usual red and black regalia, rings adorning his long, slim fingers, dark hair swept up away from his face.
“My Lord.” You greeted him with a bow of the head, keeping the formalities should anyone be eavesdropping. He hadn’t given you permission to address him as anything other than his official title yet, not during this visit.
Such was one of the many rules of the sect; one, if given permission by one of the Seven to address them by their earthly names, could do so only for that occasion. Upon meeting them again, they would have to address them by their official titles, the lords.
“To what do I owe the honor?”
Sehün leaned back against the door of your humble room, and crossed his arms. “I didn’t see you at the worship this evening.”
“I wasn’t feeling very well, My Lord, forgive me. Healer Choi gave me permission to sit out tonight, you may ask her if—”
“It’s alright, Y/N. You’re not in trouble. I just wanted to see you.” He took a step closer, and you swallowed the lump that had grown in your throat out of anticipation.
Having someone so powerful in such close proximity was always intimidating to you. Especially when you knew what Sehün was capable of, both in your private affair and when it came to preaching to the masses.
You’d found yourself tangled between Sehün and his bedsheets for the first time almost a year ago, when he was tipsy on wine and requested a willing girl of age with specific physical attributes in his bedroom. Young women willing to serve their Lord Greed who lived in the Sanctuary were called for, you amongst them, and the moment his eyes fell upon you, you were chosen.
Lord Envy will receive many prayers tonight, you’d thought, as the other girls eyed you with jealousy and contempt as they were escorted out of the room.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, sweet girl,” He said, taking a step closer and snapping you back to the present. Cold blue eyes met yours, and you looked away almost immediately.
“You… thought of me,” You replied, as his hand came up to your chin, pulling it up so you were looking at him once more. He nodded, eyeing your face.
Sehün was beautiful, you realized for what seemed like the millionth time. He was scarred and mangled and terrifying but his features, up close, seemed to be flawless. Everything about him was contradictory. His scars gave him a rugged, worn look. His hands were calloused and rough.
And yet, when he walked into a room he radiated an aura of regalness. He always held his chin up high, despite the fact that he already towered over most of the people he was surrounded by anyway. When he looked down at you, it made you feel powerless and weak. It didn’t surprise you that Lady Fate had chosen him and his brothers as living incarnations of the gods.
“I did,” He murmured. His grip on your chin had tightened, but only slightly, and his face was inching closer and closer. You could feel his hot breath fanning your face, and you fiddled with the hem of your modest white dress.
His lips brushed against yours but he still hadn’t kissed you, not yet. Sehün lived to tease, he wanted you to want him, to plead and beg and cry for him to take what he knew was his, has always been his and will likely always be his. He took most of his pleasure in winding you up before taking you apart, piece by piece.
Instead of kissing you, his hands found yours, and he gripped your wrists so you couldn’t move away from him. Your heart rate began to increase at the thrill of him not wanting you to get away from him, despite the fact that if you asked, he would let you go and leave you be.
“I may be cruel, but I’m no monster. Not to you,” He’d told you the first time you denied him.
His hands forced your wrists up, and your hands found their way to his chest. He slowly forced you against the wall.
“I was worried when I didn’t see you today, so I had to come and make sure my sweet girl was alright.”
You sighed at the pet name he’d given you, the one he always called you. His lips were still resting against yours, and when he finished his sentence, his tongue darted out to swipe at your bottom lip, and you gasped at the sensation. He took advantage of this, quickly slipping his tongue into your mouth.
You knew what he liked, you’d learned so much over the times he’d taken you, and you immediately responded by meeting his tongue with your own. No matter how often you did this, it never failed to arouse you, the sensation of wetness sliding against wetness. The messiness that came, as eventually, spit started falling out of both of your mouths and onto your chins. How obscene yet pleasing it felt when Sehün pulled away, only to swipe away the drool that had fallen onto your chin with his own tongue.
A whimper escaped your mouth, and your small hands tightened into fists, scrunching up the fabric of his shirt.
“M-my Lord.” Your voice was trembling, weak, as you’d become wound up, already waiting for him to touch you.
“We both know that’s not what you’re supposed to call me when I come to fuck you,” He growled, and your eyes flutter shut. You nodded, feeling your arousal spike when he uses the vulgar word.
“Tell me, Y/N, what is it you want?”
“Please touch me, Sir.”
His grin was wicked, nose coming down to brush against yours as he swooped in for another filthy kiss. He let go of your wrists, and his large hands quickly found their way to your thighs. He squeezed them harshly, before murmuring into the kiss, “Up.”
You obeyed wordlessly, hands winding around his neck as you wrapped your legs around his slender waist, dress hiking up as you did so. He carried you both to your bed, and sat, you straddling his lap.
“Look what you do to me,” He sighed, grabbing the back of your neck and gently forcing you to look down. He was already hard, and you grab one of his larger hands, pulling it towards your panties, which are slowly getting wet as your arousal grows.
“You do the same to me, Sir.”
Sehün immediately pulled the cotton fabric to the side, rubbing up and down your slit. “Is this what you want, sweet girl?”
You inhaled sharply, hips beginning to rock against his touch before you nodded.
Suddenly, his free hand delivered a spank to your ass, and you whined, head falling against his chest.
“Words. Use your words, darling.” His voice was stern, dark. You knew better than to poke the sleeping bear, and nodded against his chest before speaking again.
“Y-yes, Sir. I want it.”
His other hand was still stroking up and down your slit, now purposely avoiding your clit and ghosting over your entrance. The friction was slowly driving you mad, the pleasure was there but it was barely enough. You would do anything for him to do anything else.
“Where do you want my fingers, Y/N? Inside you,” He pushed in the tip of his middle finger, causing you to keen against his neck, “Or on your clit?"
He pulled his finger out and dragged his hand towards your clit, tapping it ever so lightly. Your hands twitched at your sides, not knowing whether you were allowed to touch him or not.
"P-please,” You said. Your words were gone. This was what Sehün could do to you.
When you’d first heard of the Sect of Seven you didn’t believe their “godlike powers”, but now you understood, now you truly believed. Sehün had an effect on everyone—greed was his power, and you were feeling it strongly now, reduced to mere whimpers and thoughts of only more, more, more.
Another hit rained down on your ass, and you squirmed in his grip.
“Words!” His growl was louder now, bordering on angry. “This is your last warning, darling. I’m not going to repeat myself again. Use your fucking words.”
You took a deep breath, then another, when you felt Sehün’s free hand run up and down your back, calming you despite the domineering aura he had about himself.
He knew the effect he could have on people, and he could always tell when it washed over you. This was him trying to snap you out of it just a little bit, and often did this to relax you enough to respond when you were having difficulty speaking.
“Inside,” You gasped finally, raising your head to look at his face. “Fuck me with your fingers, please, Sir."
His smirk was almost as wicked as he was, and he held up two of his fingers to your mouth. "You know what to do.”
His eyes watched your own intently as you sucked his fingers into your mouth, ignoring how the tacky, dried spit on your chin makes the sensation of opening your mouth feel strange and almost tight. You hollowed your cheeks, and he chuckled darkly.
“The next time I have you all to myself, I’ll make you suck my cock.”
You nodded enthusiastically at the idea. Sehün was so big, and having him stuffed down your throat was always a challenge that got you rewarded nicely.
He pressed a kiss to your temple, fingers still crammed into your mouth. “I remember you were so innocent the first time I fucked you. Now look at you, so eager for me to do whatever I want to you.”
He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, trailing it down to your exposed core. “Take off the dress,” He ordered, before finally putting a finger inside of you, setting a slow, tedious pace.
Hands trembling, you forced your hands towards the hem of the white dress, hiking up the skirt, before pulling it up over your head, dropping it at Sehün’s feet. “The bra goes too.”
“Y-yes, Sir.”
You unhooked the bra, tossing it away from you. Finally free to just bask in the sensation of Sehün’s finger caressing inside your walls, your hands balled up into fists, no longer able to keep your hands off of him.
“M-may I—ah!—please touch you, Sir?”
His free hand guided your smaller one to the hardness in his pants. “Get me ready to fuck you, sweet girl.” His voice was quiet, husky, and you licked your lips in anticipation.
“Yes, Sir,” You said for what felt like the millionth time that night, and he smiled down at you, before spanking you again, and you cried out in surprise.
“I-I did what you told me to!”
“I know,” He answered, grinning, “It’s just cute to watch you squirm when I do it.”
You whined. “Sir, please don’t tease—”
“Just jerk me off, sweet girl.”
You eyed him defiantly for a moment. His finger stilled inside of you, almost challenging to disobey. You decided quickly it was better not to, mouth latching to the point below his ear, silently and swiftly unbuckling his belt and dipping a hand into his pants.
His dick was hot and hard, pulsing. You could have sworn it twitched once you finally wrapped your hand around it. He hummed in satisfaction as you pulled him out, letting go of him briefly to spit into your palm. You gripped him again and began to move your hand at the speed he was finger fucking you.
It was no surprise to you that after a few moments of this he sped up his pace, and so do you.
You were moaning against his skin now, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses along his jawline and his free hand came up to pull on one of your nipples, the nub now hard and sensitive. His rough fingertips dragging aggressively across your skin, leaving you mad with want.
When Sehün asked if you could handle another finger, you didn’t hesitate, begging for more, then finally keening in satisfaction of the slight burn that came when he gave into your request.
The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, hands exploring each others’ skin despite having touched many times in the past.
“Play with your clit,” He said eventually, fingers still fucking in and out of your pussy, “Use one hand on my cock and t-touch your clit with the other one.”
Your head tipped back as you obeyed, adding even more pleasure when your hand teased your clit, before setting a quick drag of back and forth, back and forth.
“F-fuck, Sir, o-oh my god!”
You could tell when Sehün was beginning to lose himself in the pleasure; his eyes scrunched shut, his breathing became heavier than it already was. His free hand, which was gripping your waist, gripped it tighter, and you relished in the crushing but not unbearable pain in your side where his fingers were, knowing that there would be bruises in the morning.
Eventually it came, the familiar coil winding you up and leaving you charged like a livewire, causing your movements to become frantic, moving wildly against his grip.
“S-sir, I’m close!”
In response, he slipped in another long and calloused finger. You cried out his name, before gasping as you realized what you’d done.
You’d just called one of the Lords by name without his permission.
His fingers stilled inside of you, swiftly removing them before flipping the two of you over so he was hovering of you. He looked furious, as he spanks you again.
This time, however, it landed on the nipple he’d been tweaking, before pulling out both of his fingers, and you wailed, a woman possessed.
“Sir, please!” Your pleading was loud, ragged, voice reedy with desire.
His hand gripped your chin once more, this time much more harshly. “Why should I give you anything when you won’t behave? I never gave you permission to say my name, darling. I should just leave you here and not come back.”
“No,” You begged, “No, sir, please, I-I’ll be good, promise!“
He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face, before pressing a harsh kiss against your lips. His hands grabbed yours, pinning them above your head and leaving you powerless.
"I’ve denied you once,” He said, “I won’t hesitate to deny you again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
He nodded, expression stoic. His steely blue eyes were dilated, almost black with desire. “I’m going to fuck you now. You know what to tell me if it gets to be too much."
You hummed in agreement. "Moonlight, Sir. That’s the word."
He smiled down at you softly, eyes turning to crescents as he broke character for a moment. "That’s a good girl.”
The way he could easily shift between harsh and kind left you feeling as though you had whiplash.
He kneeled on the bed, unbuttoning his crimson red shirt and exposing his toned skin to your eyes. You watched, bewitched, as he stripped down, bare as you.
He lowered himself once more, caging you between the mattress and his long, lithe body. You felt your face heat, and although you couldn’t see, you could tell you were blushing. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his swollen, chapped lips never failing to take your breath away.
You felt one of his hands reach down, and moments later you gasped into the kiss at the sensation of him rubbing his length between your folds. “Sir,” You said, between kisses, “I’m gonna die - if you don’t do anything soon.”
He pulled away, resting his nose against yours. “You’re too dramatic, darling.”
You gazed up at him, taking in his appearance. His chest was heaving, hair mussed and now falling into his face, his prominent cheekbones and broad shoulders flushed. His expression was dark-but you weren’t sure if that was because of the way the shadows hit his face or because of the lust he felt.
“Se-Sir, p-please.”
“Please, what?” He said, rocking his hips experimentally, still not fucking into you, and you threw your head back in frustration, “You need to tell me exactly what you want, sweet girl.”
You licked your lips, gathering your words as you opened your eyes to stare wantonly at him.
“Fuck me, Sir. Do whatever you want to me.”
He nodded with a smirk, and you could practically feel his ego swell, right before he pushed into your cunt.
Sehün, after so much teasing, wasted no time in setting a punishing pace, groaning in satisfaction. “You’re always so tight, Y/N. Ah, fuck!”
You wrapped your legs around his hips, wordless at how rough he was thrusting into you. You wanted to grab at him, run his hands through his hair and down his back, but he’d already grabbed your wrists again, manhandling them above your head so you were practically at his mercy.
He rested his head against your shoulder, laving his lips against your skin, now damp and glistening with sweat. The heat radiating off of both of your bodies as you writhed against each other seemed to make the temperature in your bedroom rise, sweat dripping from your bodies and mixing with each other’s, making the slide of his skin against yours come even easier.
His thrusts were incessant, but that didn’t stop you from thrashing in his grip when he hit a spot inside of your walls, causing you to cry out, eyes rolling back into your head and his pace turned sluggish, as the tight clenching of your pussy around him caught him off guard.
“Say my name,” He ordered, one hand letting go of your wrists to come play with your clit, now swollen from your vigorous touching and the way his pelvic bone seemed to grind against it.
“F-fuck! Sehün, harder!”
He complied, thrusts soon shallower and slower, but harder as he rocked into your tight heat. Your moans were garbled, mumbling complete nonsense and not even you knew what you were asking for with your constant begging of oh, please, and more, more, more.
Soon enough, the feeling returned, and his pace was no longer controlled, hips moving erratically against yours. All rational thought had left both of your minds, the two of you fucking against each other like wild, feral animals.
“I’m gonna come soon,” He grunted, “F-fuck, Y/N, you’re so good.”
Your body felt like it was on fire, toes curling when you felt the sensation of an oncoming orgasm return again, and you mentally pleaded, a little more, please, please, please.
Your voice was shrill when you voiced your request, but you immediately regretted it. He pulled out of you, eyes filling with tears and crying out in anger when the feeling was lost.
Your eyes raked down his long, tan torso to find his large hand wrapped around his cock, pumping vigorously and giving you a beautifully frustrating sight to watch, propping your sweating body onto your elbows as he kneeled above you, his voice hoarse as he groaned.
“Where should I come?” He asked, but you knew you wouldn’t get a say. His tone was teasing despite the breathlessness in his voice, and eventually he came down to hover above you, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes screwed shut and mis mouth tipped open, as he came on your stomach.
Your hands came up to run slowly through his hair, now damp with sweat, grounding him and ensuring he wouldn’t get too lost in his throes.
When he returned to his senses, panting heavily, eyes gleaming with a predatory glint, he grinned down at you. “My sweet girl.”
You pouted up at him. “You didn’t let me come.”
“Why should I?”
Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you were interrupted as his lips pressed against yours again, and you barely even noticed when he flipped you over, not until he pulled away to lie his head on your pillows. You looked him over once more, and you raised an eyebrow.
“You’re still hard?”
“Don’t act so surprised,” He murmured, “I’m young. I’m a god.”
You took in the sight of him, face flushed, dark hair messy, icy blue eyes watching, piercing through you and pinning you down in your spot.
One of his hands dragged down your chest, finally dragging his fingers through the cum on your skin, before both of his hands came to grip your hips. He eyed his stiff cock for a second, before his eyes came up to find yours. His eyebrows furrowed, and you could tell he’d just had another one of his wicked ideas.
“Tell me you love me, and maybe then I’ll let you come.”
You felt your eyes widen, and suddenly, despite all the times he’d seen you like this, you felt very, very naked, exposed, vulnerable.
Sehün wasn’t a man of emotions. From what you knew, none of the gods of the sect were men of emotions. They barely qualified as men at all—these were gods. You knew all of them had sexual partners (Sanctuary Queens, people called them, and by extension, you) as well, but had never felt courageous enough to ask Sehün or any of the other Sanctuary Queens about the power dynamics in their relationships.
However.
Sehün had never explicitly told you that this was simply sexual, carnal. There were no rules stating that a romantic relationship god and mortal was a sin–hell, the entire concept of the sect was that there was no such thing as sin, so long as no innocent person was harmed.
Sehün, no matter how ruthless he could be in battle or cunning he could be during worship, was kind. His heart, while not pure, was also not cold, but rather filled with appreciation for life, art, and you. He’d never explicitly said that he had feelings for you, and for a time you wondered if he was even human enough to have feelings at all.
You were never neglected with Sehün. He’d care for you, clean you up after sex, when you were still too overwhelmed to comprehend what was going on. He never forced you out of his chambers after sex, leaving you to rest in his bed, and if you asked nicely, he’d hold you, stroking your hair until you fell asleep. And while Sehün couldn’t cook if the entire sect depended on it, he’d still send for the chefs to make your favorite breakfasts on mornings when you were especially sore.
Regardless, Sehün asking this of you made you freeze up, and you released a shaky breath.
“Sehün, where is this—”
“Where is it coming from? Come on, Y/N. You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”
He sat up, coming to wrap his hands around your arms to pull you closer. His eyes studied your face, and you pursed your lips.
“Sehün…”
“I love hearing you say my name,” He whispered into your skin, pressing his nose against your cheek, “Say it again.”
“Sehün.” You felt your eyes flutter shut, going lax in his hold.
You heard him sigh. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’d thought of you all day.”
“Why are you telling me this?” You said, pulling away to get a good look at him. His eyebrows furrowed, and he lifted a hand to brush a few strands of hair away from his face.
“The resistance is planning something. We don’t know what it is, yet. All we know is that a confrontation is coming… soon.”
You watched his face. He looked troubled—the warm, yellow light of your bedside lamp cast shadows upon his expression that brought out all of his flaws: every scar, every mole, every blemish that wouldn’t be seen if you were standing away from him.
This was the gift Lady Fate had bestowed upon you, to see what exactly made one of your seven gods human, and you were even more grateful to have him say what you couldn’t.
“I’m a god.” He didn’t sound very convinced. “That doesn’t mean they can’t kill me, not with all of the artillery Jongdae keeps bringing in. That doesn’t mean they can’t take you away from me, Y/N. It's… sobering. All of this power only lasts for so long."
You grimaced in sympathy, bringing your hands up to Sehün’s cheeks, longing to be close to him once more.
"I love you, Sehün.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, a confession only for him to hear. “I’m so grateful that you chose me, of all of the girls you could have had that night.”
At your words, the usual twinkle that had dimmed in his eyes returned, just not as bright. “Thank you.”
You smiled, and he did the same, before his swollen lips came down to capture yours again.
“Mine,” he murmured against your lips, “All mine.”
You pushed him away, watched him fall back onto the mattress. You shifted yourself on top of his body, the way his eyes flickered with arousal not going unignored. “Okay,” You sighed dramatically, “I did what you told me to do… Does that mean I can come now?”
He grinned, flipping you over with ease. He looked beautifully disheveled, smiling down at you.
“For you, sweet girl, I’ll make you come a hundred times more.”
#kpop smut#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop x reader#exo x reader#exo imagines#exo smut#exo scenarios#exo au#kpop au#sehun x reader#sehun smut#sehun scenarios#x exo x reader#x-exo x reader#my writing
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Wednesday 28/4/21 - Usernames, Tags, and Personal Growth
So yeah its barely been an hour since my last post, but this particular topic is one I've wanted to blab about for a long time.
Online, and offline too in many cases, people will choose to represent themselves with a Username, a title to depict themselves as. This can be for many reasons, but the main ones I can think of are hiding your identity, and nicknames.
Now when I say nicknames, I don't mean by Mitch, instead of Mitchell, I mean like a pet name or title you use to identify a key part of your being that you want to be recognised by. But the interesting thing about choosing a nickname to represent YOU, is that you change.
My various personas over the internet
I wanna explore the idea of this change in persona by discussing how I've changed my own user/nickname over time. My journey of spreading around the internet was a gradual one, so rather than having the same user everywhere, I actually have a number of different usernames, depending on when I joined said site.
Pre Internet Username: Comixlad
In Highschool I filled 10s of exercise books with my own graphic novels, the longest running series was very creatively called "Awesome Comix" and detailed the adventures of me and my friends with super powers that allowed us to transform into new super forms and fight the evils of the world.
This led to my user comixlad, which I used everywhere from message boards to emails, and to this day I am still stuck as comixlad on certain sites.
Facebook/MySpace: Nothing really
For my first social media's, I really just used my full name Mitchell ****** (rather keep my personal life private). So yeah boring, and fairly formal.
Tumblr: supereffectivemoonblast
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3d335667561fbfe58a7974fc7449675e/5acbd4625fd80550-36/s540x810/cef58921bf335e8a1fdee90d13d7570948b99bcd.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4f080c044de19a4d073a4609bf745fc4/5acbd4625fd80550-e2/s540x810/0279d619b20a6c6abaf3860282aff30ef784ce51.jpg)
Tumblr was my first private affair where I went full on exploring myself without using my name. My personal tastes were very nerdy, so I thought I'd try to be unique and quirky by combining Zelda and Pokemon; originally my profile pic was of the Majoras Mask Moon, so the Moon Blast mentioned was in fact a Zelda reference too.
Given that I post a lot of my art to my main tumblr, in order to not get lost with the mem clutter, I made a side archive blog, named supereffectiveartblog to keep the theme going.
Instagram: mitch_zelda_sketches_selfies
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/16d634389bb809ed2e67890a7ba26001/5acbd4625fd80550-c8/s540x810/ab9358b7f189753e30d442925e32faad0609411e.jpg)
When I started instagram I was feeling much more refined and artsy as a person. Whereas with Tumblr, I was more trying to be full on secret nerd, my instagram profile was a chance to show a more sensible side. So the user i chose was just an underscore list of what my profile would feature pictures of.
I later started a side account just to archive the realistic art I made of animals, since for a while, I made a lot of them.
Twitter/Reddit: Doorbashr
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/aae2dbb643ec01a1ca0830eee0041526/5acbd4625fd80550-5f/s540x810/e9ef61e85ad34e28f4f93c17d4a4e1f9c37a3b05.jpg)
You'll notice I use that pfp a lot. I dont take a lot of selfies.
Anyway, I started my twitter in response to my involvement with the Super Smash Bros competitive community, where I could keep up to date with other players, and also (see: mainly), when I was mentioned in the results for competitions, I could be tagged personally.
The tag itself came from an incident where I tried to leave a friend's house during a house party, and in my tipsy state, didn't see their screen door and knocked it right off the rails onto the ground. Quite embarrassing, but Doorbashr is a memorable title that many in the local FGC recognise purely because of how funny it sounds.
Reddit I joined the most recently of social medias, if you can call Reddit such a thing. And since I already had an iconic username at that point, I just used Doorbashr again.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8348e08618fcbde48a197b9062377be5/5acbd4625fd80550-a3/s540x810/a777dc57bd68029a01b941befffbe272774d6215.jpg)
I do have one more username I have picked up more recently, but it's more on the private side for now and I won't divulge it unless you've read this far and wish to learn more by PM'ing me on here or any of my other socials mentioned here.
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@rexcrystallis okay this has been in my drafts for literal months apparently
i dont remember writing it but pain is inside
Prince Prompto sui Besithia Izunia should not have sat on the throne.
He was not the direct heir, people argued. That title belonged to his older brother, Loqi Tummelt - but that marriage had been annulled when it saw it’s end. The boy, his claim, all had been discarded to the winds in favor of his safety.
Prompto was a bastard. Born of a torrid affair between his noble father and a lowly scientist. Born sick, and small and neatly ignored the second Verstael deemed the boy unfit. Were it not for the Chancellor, well -- the child may well have died down there in a forgotten crib.
But when Iedolas passed he left no heirs. Verstael had abdicated his claim years ago and had no intention of reclaiming it - he had only one son with a standing claim.
There was no civil war, though those who opposed the changes made to the Empire threatened to make one. They would get the distant relations in other countries to stake their claims, they would take the Tummelt boy and rail against his disinheritance, they would rend Niflheim in twain in order to have their way.
But then Chancellor Izunia had presented his choice for the future. A bright eyed boy of four, who clung to his pantleg and shivered in the chill of the Throne Room. The Chancellor spoke of the boy as if he were his own, introducing him with a soft smile. And the people feared him, the stories that were told behind closed doors of a man who commanded monsters, so they did not argue.
The people easily grew to love him. He was a sweet boy, a kind boy. The world needed more of those.
The warmongers grew to hate him. He was a sweet boy, a kind boy. The world had no more need of bleeding hearts.
They hated him when he was old enough to interview and be asked his opinion. They hated him when he shifted focus from warfare to welfare, focusing on the citizens the Empire had rather than the ones it did not. Prompto’s poor health meant he never enlisted in the service, as his father and uncle had before him. Instead of a sword he was given history books, science as a shield. They hated him because he was not a warrior, he was a scholar, and he ran his country with this in mind.
They loved him no better when a true peace treaty with Lucis was brokered at age sixteen. Ardyn had stepped aside and allowed his son to take the charge, for he had no love for the country and would rather see it blighted from the map. The young prince had locked eyes with the Prince of Lucis and scrapped and fought with him for a fair agreement, one that would not leave either side feeling like they’d won or lost too much. When the tabloids caught the two of them spending time outside the meetings, talking, laughing, bonding.
An attack comes a few days before he’s to leave for the first time. Prompto flattens to the ground with practiced ease, sweating bullets and shaking. Aranea’s already charging off, and he shudders.
( they miss the slow burn of a romance forming. their connection had been instantaneous and passionate, but their will to act on it had taken far longer. )
Nor when he began spending summers abroad with Lucis’ Prince. When the papers ran rumors that the young men were too close, and perhaps they should fear a wedded alliance. When Lucis’ king took a bride, they held their breaths and waited for their leader to make the mistake as being lesser. To marry him, to become subservient to the Lucians he seemed to love so well -- yet they never married.
( not in the public eye, at last. the emperor wears a ring on a chain under his clothes. a symbolic wedding, not a legally binding one. they love each other too well to allow that love to destroy all they’ve worked for )
Still, he turned down potential brides that came courting. Rumors flew that he was in love with his Shield, a woman ten years his senior and twice as unruly, but that proved a moot point when she married another, producing her heir well before his. They assumed then that perhaps this would be like it was with Iedolas, that their Emperor would take no bride and have no sons. Up until he turned up with a son he named his heir, a boy with dark blue eyes and unruly blonde hair. A boy every bit the bastard his father was.
They tired of it. They no longer waited silently.
They sewed sedition in the minds of the weak. Spoke of greater times to the disenfranchised soldiers and the young, who knew not how bad things once were and could instead take their word that the problems with the nation were problems that their leader caused, not remnants of things he had fixed. They watched, and they waited.
And they waited.
Ardyn died. Prompto took the title formally took the title.
The young Prince became unruly. Difficult to manage at times. The people within the palace knew it came from dealing with a father who was sick and another who lived half a world away, but the citizens only saw a sullen child acting out.
Then the people drew comparisons between him and the children of the Lucian King, comparing his baby pictures with that of the press photos of Prince Orion and Anne Marie. They do not know the truth - that the boy is yet another product of his grandfather’s science, that he is how the Emperor cured the plague - but they know enough of it to make their decision.
Emperor Prompto sui Besithia Izunia should not have sat on the throne, and in their eyes he will die for sullying it. And Prince Aurum Liber Besithia Izunia will die before he has the chance to ruin their legacy further.
-
Prince Aurum returns from his school in Lucis in the summer months. Prompto laughs as his son grumbles about how he doesn’t need to go back, fourteen and thinking himself a man. That he knows enough not to go back. That he doesn’t need his father doting over him - either of them - but there’s a gentleness to him now that wasn’t there when he’d last set off. He doesn’t throw his bag into Prompto’s arms, he carries it himself. Only when he’s unpacked does he seek out his father for a hug, holding him tight. Prompto grins and ruffles his fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his forehead. Laughing when the boy scrunches up his face and tries to pull back.
“Oh no you don’t,” he teases, locking his arms around his son with a laugh. “You owe me six months worth of hugs, buddy! And I intend to cash in!”
He tolerates it with only mild protesting.
No doubt this was a product of the latest hospitalization.
A grim realization that his father, young though he may be, was a very sick man.That he wouldn’t be around forever - and there was a very real chance that it could happen at any time. This time, he’d fallen and simply could not get back up. Aranea had found him on the floor of his study, confused and half-waking, unable to so much as lift himself onto his elbows. Noctis had abandoned whatever he was set to do to come to his side, afraid this may be the last time - but he’d pulled through, brushing it aside as though it were nothing, continuing to march stubbornly ahead.
Yet Aurum knew. His eyes are on the stylish cane that his father now carries as he pulls back, reaching out to hold his hand.
He calls Noct a few hours later. Lets him know Aurum got home safe and all is well. There’s an unspoken apology that Noctis couldn’t go with him -- an emergency had cropped up in the outskirts of Leides, something about the old mines and some old bases being filled with daemons.
It’s no matter. They plan to reconvene later in the month. This is old hat, they’ve long since grown used to having their plans ruined by some emergency or another, such is the life of a leader. Distance no longer means anything to them, they’ve been doing this for decades now and knows that home comes before all else.
---
The palace is under siege when he wakes.
Some of the new housing staff has killed the more loyal retainers. Rigorous background checks cannot read the minds and hearts of those easily swayed, only see where it may happen. Aranea bursts into his room, covered in blood and burnt from getting there, and he knows from the expression on her face that this is more than a mere assassination attempt.
He yells at her for coming to him. Even if her daughter is to be his son’s shield, she should have gone to him.
He’s out of bed in seconds. Foregoes changing, instead charges through the fray to get to his son. His staff are experienced, they know what they’re doing -- but the doors to the Keep are being battered by battering rams, there is an army waiting outside their doors and his own simply won’t mobilize fast enough.
They haven’t reached the boy’s quarters yet. Aurum is wide-eyed and frightened, Arache looks no better off. Both have enjoyed a time of peace and don’t know what it means to fear war. He gathers the children into his arms briefly, tells them it will all be okay and then they’re hurrying through one of the many secret exits.
The way is blocked. Men bigger and stronger than Prompto is, even in his prime. They laugh as they step forward, intending to shove backs to the walls and slay the whole royal family in one fell swoop.
They’d talked about this nightmare scenario, he and Aranea. On late nights when the unrest threatened to bubble over, when there seemed to be no end in sight to the protests or the vicious whispers of rumor.
They’d talked about what to do.
There’s a sound like shattering glass as he calls forth the magic of the Empire’s cracked and broken crystal. The men reel back, narrowly missing a round of fire that leaps where they stood. Prompto’s eyes glow a dull red, his breathing quickening with the strain of the magic.
She grabs the boy and her girl and leaps over their heads. In an instant a shield blocks off the path, leaving Prompto trapped on the other side with the enemy. Aurum stops short and tries to turn back, the color draining from his face.
He’s a smart boy. Smart enough to see a suicidal distraction for what it truly is.
“Aurum, go,” Prompto shouts, digging his heels into the ground.
“Dad-!”
“I said go!” He thunders, louder than he’s ever yelled at his son in his life. “I’ll be okay! Your old man has a few tricks left up his sleeves yet!”
He doesn’t need to see him to see the disbelief in his eyes. The terrible knowing of what is to come. But Aranea hauls him forward (you’re supposed to be his shield! he shouts, desperation wining out over that carefully crafted stoicism) and he has no say. The Emperor would only slow them down -- he’s not yet an old man, but he’s a sick man. And he knows all too well the limitations of his body.
And if his life is cost of letting his son live, it’s a price gladly paid.
Come dawn, the castle has been left in ruins.
The Emperor lays on the floor of his home, unable to lift himself up - unable to move at all. There’s a sword through his side, rubble across his chest - and he can do nothing but listen to the sound of it burn around him.
So this is how it ends.
To his left, his phone is ringing. Frantically. Has been for nearly an hour now. The cracked phone sits just outside of his reach - he’s tried to reach for it, to answer, but he’s tired. The air is thick with smoke and he knows it doesn’t matter who comes now, it’s far too late. The magic burned him from the inside out, eating away at the unnatural parts of him and leaving the human parts too weak and broken to survive on their own.
Too late.
His eyes slowly drift shut.
They meet Noctis in Tenebrae. The king warps there through a dagger left in King Ravus’ care and his eldest son throws his arms around him, weeping into his chest.
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House MD season 2
30 second episode recaps from someone whos just watched em for the first time and has bad recall
Ep1: they gotta cure the death row dude so he can go back to death row to b killed, cameron is Bad at telling ppl they're dying, house n Wilson had lunch with the coma guy, they cured death row man, also they changed the theme and I hate it Ep2: House has hayfever lmao, this cancer girl with hallucinations is honestly just the coolest she's so positive I love her, shes nine and got chase to kiss her hero,, house an Wilson have a shared balcony amazing, Wilson is so good and pure and is amazing at his job holy shit I love this man. House actually 'temporarily killed' the patient to cure her and made people run drills on a dead man. House is 400% going to buy a motorbike Ep3: i prayed for Cuddy's handyman to fall off her roof past the window and then god answered my prayers and he did, house broke into Cuddy's house mainly to look at her underwear lbr and then won the 'can we chop off his arm' argument, house secretly speaks spanish and waited for the most dramatic moment to reveal this, they gate crashed a cock fight (ayy) and saved the patient Ep4: the patient is a doctor with an ego ((according to house lmao pot, kettle)) who wanted to sit in on the diagnostic process and honestly is actually full of himself,, house puts him on a tippy table and cranks it up, foreman made a patient cry except he was pretending to be house lmao house got in shit,, Cameron needs to stop please, can the patient get his head out his arse please. house gatecrashes the press conference that the patient called and managed to put him into cardiac arrest on live television and eventually cured him of everything cept bein a knob Ep5: Wilson's handwriting is such doctor handwriting and house definitely bought a motorbike and made Wilson pay for it he's so pleased with himself. The kid keeps getting electrocuted but like,, by his own body. House is avoiding his parents but Cameron n Wilson aren't letting him get away with it. I love house n Wilson's friendship so much it's worth 5k apparently lmao. These patients are fukin serial liars jc why are ppl like this, it was rADIATION wow houses dad is a fucking DICK. There were so many good interactions and the house/wilson ship is sailing Ep6: there was a cyclist who took a LOT of drugs which turned out to be curing him of the thing he had, house is a douchebag but we all knew that - he may b a dick to mark but m sure mark deserves it n I love him anyway. Wilson remains a sweet boy even if he cheats idgaf he's adorable look at him ((wilson: i net someone who made me feel funny, me: was it hOUSE)),, he n house are balcony buddies and house shud stop stealing his food, and he should definitely stop digging thru stacys life but actually fuck it why not he's not gunna let go of this why is she so pissy i wanna know Ep7: I love houses new pet rat Steve McQueen,, Wilson is 4000% done with houses Stacy related antics which is fair tbh he should stop but I actually don't give much of a shit about Stacy I've taken against her....he did deserve what she said after reading her file tho. The patient may have given Cameron aids and Cameron got high and slept with Chase, who she may have given aids lmao these ppl r messes but not as much of a mess as that father/son relationship jc...i dont remember anything else about the patient whoops Ep8: chase is being suuuueeeeddd and he keeps lying about why lmao,, house fuckin reamed him one which was probably called for but maybe not like that, turns out chase screwed up cus his dad died and foreman is houses boss ((supervisor)) now how well do u think that's gunna work (((not very))) Stacy's still a bitch and has ~~feelings~~ Ep9: foreman is in charge and house is doing his utmost best to be the dick of the year and it's fucking hilarious honestly I love this man the shit he pulls jc,,, Wilson is super aware of houses antics as usual and had a mild gay panic when foreman started to question him about house,, the patient was a big ol Faker™ but surprise surprise she was actually sick this time ((house totally injected her with a load of stuff so she’d b readmitted after they’s released her)) Ep10: house solved a case thru the phone alone and spent most of the ep at the airport except for those five minutes when he almost slept with Stacy who once had a terrible experience with curry apparently and called house a vindaloo, nice restraint very well timed phone call thank fuck,,, they will sleep together tho and I am Not Happy about it....the power play amongst the fellows is a boiling pot of trouble - the patient was v interesting I enjoyed the word scramble game Ep12: WHAT A GOOD FUCKIN EP so the patient orgasmed in the white chamber while unconscious and covered in burns but more importantly house gatecrashed the lecture of his old archenemy that he had arranged just so he could disturb it and criticise the dude who got him thrown out of med school for snitchin on his cheating all whilst Wilson told him to get better hobbies (('a hooker anything please')),, to test this dudes migraine meds he gave deliberately himself a migraine and the meds didn't work (unsurprising) so the fellows turned out all the lights while he had a nap under the table,, wilson took a diff approach and deliberately made a Lot of noise because he is a Shit even if he hides it better than house,,,, then house dropped a tab of acid and took a bunch of antidepressants, and cured his migraine as well as the patient Ep13: houses leg was super duper sore but at least we got some fantastic house/wilson interaction when wilson pretended to be God during that MRI, even if house hit him with a cane.... The patient was a teen supermodel who seduced her own father to get whatever she wanted,, house was super sure she had cancer and it turns out she did but it was testicular because she had xy chromosomes and was immune to testosterone - which was really fucking interesting...... Also cuddy played house like a violin and gave him placebo saline instead of a morphine shot to prove to him that his leg pain was psychological Ep14: House is stealing organs now. Ok so technically he did get the husband's permission to steal his newly dead wife’s heart for the dying old dude with a strangely young daughter but only after he kneed house in the balls super hard. House spent the whole ep goin on at wilson about the affair he thought he was having and at the end wilson showed up on houses doorstep but sURPRIse !! It was his wife who was sleeping around!! poor baby Wilson I know what goes around comes around but he's such a kicked puppy cmon Ep15: Wilson and house living together is a recipe for disaster and I'm living for it so good so many good interactions I love that house is gunna keep him for his food ((I'll never b over house hearing the voicemail about Wilson's new place, looking over at him sleeping on the couch and then deleting it so he has to stay)). The patient had a super cool marriage and didn't have lupus except whoops actually not a happy marriage his wife is tryna kill him thru gold poisoning. House needs to stop accosting ppl in bathrooms and should also stop destroying marriages Ep16: oh man good shit so,, first of all house n Wilson are still living together and there are some Domestic Antics happening right here including but not limited to a prank war which house desperately tried to get Wilson to participate in, the peak of which had house making Wilson wet the couch and Wilson sabotaging houses cane. The patients mum was ridiculously overprotective and house essentially kidnapped the patient to find the tick noone else thought was there,, surprisingly Wilson helped set that up despite the fact house was the reason he woke up wet that morning Ep17: first things first house could absolutely clean everyone out at poker if he knows Cuddy's tells that well through just a phonecall,, also he needs to stop calling Wilson out on his toenail varnish habits lmao. The patient was a smol boy who presented the same symptoms as an unsolved and dead case that house had 12 yrs ago so he really wasn't gunna let this one go cus he's like a dog with a bone. They were in formal wear all ep which was a Good Look™ and Wilson's retelling of how he won the poker championship may have been one of the cutest things I have ever seen Ep18: Emma from Glee is here and she has the black plague,, her gf decided to donate her liver n Cameron was all het up cus house had worked out plague girl was gunna leave her and sending the gf in blind would be ~~unethical~~ but turns out she knew and deliberately did that so Emma would stay with her out of guilt lmao. In other news Cameron's pissy cus foreman 'stole' her article and house spent most of the episode napping cus wilson is fuckin up his sleep cycle ;) I'm upset there was no physical wilson Ep19: the most annoying patient so far appears in the form of a 15 yr old faith healer with herpes. I feel like the degree to which unrelenting niceness irritates me rly says something about me but eh oh well. Chase (ofc it was chase) kept a tally on who was winning God or house, faith healer managed to shrink a womans cancer tumour through giving her herpes (((a miracle praise be))) and during poker night house called wilson out on sleeping with said cancer patient and discovered wilson was actually living with her whoops bad Wilson ((he totally regrets his life choices ((he should)))) Ep20: HOLY SHIT ITS A TWOPARTER AND FOREMANS GUNNA DIE !! Ok so,,, there was this cop who couldn't stop laughing till he could but then it got a lot worse and then foreman caught whatever it was which they began to realise when he smirked as house shot a corpse to see what a bullet in a brain would do to an MRI ((spoilers it broke the machine)) anyway long story short it wasnt the pigeons and the cops dead and foreman is gunna die even after that shitdick move he pulled where he stabbed Cameron with a needle so she'd go to the apartment Ep21: HOO BOY OK SO a lot happened so much happened the most important thing is foreman by the end of the ep is mostly kind of ok - he's just a bit muddled on his lefts n rights. During the ep house was stressed the entire time cus even tho he denys it he does love n care for his ducklings,, he even cares enough to deliberately attempt to poison Steve McQueen which didn't work but can be added to the list of stressful events. Cameron grew a spine a lil bit I literally yelled when she berated cuddy and she forced the biopsy cus foreman had the foresight (ayyyyy) to make her his medical proxy even if house managed to find the problem anyway so it was ultimately unnecessary and has just resulted in some possible brain damage Ep22: house keeps trying to pick a fight with foreman and failing because Foreman's all happy go lucky now, the patient was mad because of a thing and killed her baby accidentally on purpose, the music that played during the baby autopsy was super unnecessary and bizzare, and in the end the woman had cancer but she's refusing treatment cus of the baby guilt. Cuddy didn't have cancer, which we know because Wilson ((WILSON NOT HOUSE)) stole her dna and ran secret tests in the middle of the night, but it still wasn't a date Wilson despite what house said about skin lessions she was actually just going to attempt to use u as a sperm donor - have fun at the L-word marathon with house you big sad loser (I love u) Ep23: we meet an old house friend which is Super fun he is ridiculously naive and I love that he calls house g-man holy shit. House is now giving cuddy injections as part of a fertility treatment which is nice of him especially seeing as his leg was in a Lot of pain this ep,, like a LOT...he's self-injecting morphine now which is probably bad :/ house's friend's daughter was the patient at one point she pooped out her mouth gRoSs and house ran a paternity test n told the girl she was actually the dudes daughter ((except he was lYINg in support of his friend)) he does care Ep24: HOUSE GOT SHOT WHAT IS IT WITH THIS TEAM SUFFERING RN JC this was a very fun episode of 'guess when house is hallucinating', spoilers the answer is all the time the whole ep takes place in his head. That aside I absolutely loved the hospital gown/trainer combo (no I won't apologize) and the fact that house did almost none of his physio - instead relegating it to others which is....not how it works. The hallucinatory clinic patient was freaky deaky his eye exploded and so did his dick but dw cus to escape the hallucination house killed him ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ what can u do. At the end house woke up n requested ketamine we'll see how that goes
Season 1
#these ep summaries just get longer n longer huh#itll probs b a while bfore season 3#cus i have examsn#like#i have one on thurs#in 3/4 days#and i havent revised yet#whOOPs#ahhh well#house#house md#house summary#house season 2#gregory house#james wilson#lisa cuddy#robert chase#eric foreman#allison cameron#hilson#yes im tagging it with that ship#because i ship it hard#no regrets#hugh laurie
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newfragile yellows [200]
“I’m cutting this down to the bones,” Lavellan says as she tosses her travel cloak at a servant standing by the door, who catches it and bows out of the room with the practiced ease of someone long used to Lavellan and her almost casual disregard for protocol, “Advisors, meet my Triumvirate, Triumvirate, meet my Advisors. And this the Iron Bull. Be civil, Hunter.”
A man with pale hair and a sharp mouth scowls but crosses his arms and glances at them before following after Lavellan into the council room.
“Don’t mind him,” A woman, also with pale hair, but with round, almost sleepy eyes says, “Mahanon’s like that to everyone, especially when he’s around the Most Holy of the Dales. Come. The Most Esteemed writes about the three of you often.”
The woman cuts a sly look at the Iron Bull and pointedly turns away and walks into the room after the other two.
There’s a third man inside, sprawled out on some cushions on the floor and grinning up at them, waving a hand, “Hail and well met, as they say.”
“A single show of respect is all that’s ever asked of you, and yet you fail every single time to meet that incredibly low standard, Mahariel. Stand up when the Most Holy enters a room,” Mahanon sneers, kicking at Mahariel as he passes.
Mahariel catches Mahanon’s ankle and flutters his lashes, “Call me Theron, dont make me beg, my love.”
“I continue to fail to see what the Most Holy sees in you,” Mahanon replies, shaking Mahariel off and moving on to stand in front of a long, heavy wooden desk that is covered in neat stacks of wooden scroll tubes and flat paper.
“An attempt at pretending to be civilized people,” Lavellan says, dry as she shrugs off her riding coat and throws that onto the chair behind the desk.
All three of the other elves in the room immediately stare with an incredibly unnerving focus on the bandaged stump of Lavellan’s arm. Mahariel stands up and the three elves stand in front of Lavellan’s desk and stare.
Lavellan lowers herself into her seat and waves the one arm she does have at them, “The one one the far left is Mahanon, my second in command over the Knights, Hunters, and Blades and former Master of Blades. I meant it when I said be civil, Mahanon. Theron Mahariel is my Speaker, he presides over court affairs, various official events and practices, as well as overall general peacekeeping. He would be, I suppose, my head Ambassador, Josephine. And Lyna Mahariel is my Hearthkeeper, she watches and maintains domestic affairs such as food stores, land distribution, general welfare, et cetera, et cetera. The Triumvirate is not quite as clean cut as the three of you.”
Lavellan waves between the three standing in front of her, “All three of them coordinate between all matters, not a single one of them is absolute in their domain. In example, all three of them practice various bard arts. Theron tends to control gossip and control public image, but Lyna can start and stop rumors as well as manipulate land distribution to suit our needs. Mahanon can send spies where he pleases, but Theron has secret informants all over. I expect that at first it will be difficult for the six of you to coordinate with one another given cultural differences and expectations. I trust that some sort of understanding will be worked out sooner rather than later.”
“Yes, most Holy,” The three elves chime.
Cullen nods, “Yes, Inquisitor.”
“It will be interesting, to be sure,” Leliana says.
Josephine smiles, “Everything starts somewhere. At least there is some common ground.”
Lavellan nods, “To business. What news?”
The members of the Triumvirate fall into attention, arms behind their backs and feet planted firmly, chins up.
“We have begun to pull out suspected spies of Fen’Harel - Solas,” Theron says, “It is not easy, but general public opinion is in our favor.”
“And the truth of the matter?”
“Concealed between those present. The Elder Council is unaware.”
“As are the High Priests, Most Holy,” Lyna adds on, “They continue to adhere to our edda’s. Many pray and leave offerings for you at the main shrine. There has been some unrest, concerning that. I believe it would be most beneficial for you to make a public appearance, especially since it is common knowledge that you have returned within our borders.”
Theron shifts on the balls of his feet, “Many, Most Holy, worry you returned to die.”
“Does it look that way to you?” Lavellan raises an eyebrow. “Continue with your report. What of the general attitude of the people?”
“The expected unrest,” Mahanon says, “Many want war and proper retribution. They are willing to fight for you, Commander.”
Lavellan taps her fingers on the wood and turns to Cullen, “What is the general feeling you get from our soldiers, Cullen? They are aware that there are traitors in our ranks, spies. If Inquisition forces were to begin working with the armies of the Dales in full would there be possible repercussions?”
“Honestly, Inquisitor, I believe that we do need the power but it may be a hard touch to the ego,” Cullen admits, “Many would think that the Inquisition is enough and that it should be the armies of the Dales that are subsumed into the army of the Inquisition I understand it would not be a true and real merge that is being suggested. However…”
“It would look as though the armies of the Dales are taking the lead,” Lyna finishes, “And it would, Most Holy, possibly cause unrest on our side as well. There are many who wish to march on Orlais, and have wanted that since before news of your near-assassination took place.”
“But will they remain on my side once it is revealed that it was the doing of Fen’Harel?” Lavellan asks, “And will they continue to remain on my side once his goals are made clear?”
“It depends,” Theron says slowly, “On how you spin this gold for them.
“I have a few ideas,” Lavellan says, “I believe that many would agree with me in saying that it does not matter the source of our gods. Once they became gods they were no longer the people they were. They became myths, more than themselves. Their identities were no longer their own. Their lives are ours to shape and dictate as we see fit. Such is the life of a public servant.”
“Yes, that is the general belief and attitude,” Lyna says, “But the harder struggle would be to avoid getting people to follow his cause out of desire and want.”
“Josephine and Bull have ideas for that,” Lavellan says, gesturing for Josephine to come forward. “I personally think that they are quite clever, however I have been somewhat out of touch with current emotional climes and do need your opinion before we proceed. Josephine, please.”
“The Inquisitor has mentioned that Solas has had spies within the Dales before, and that you have often caught them in acts of what could be considered treason or sabotage,” Josephine says, “And that his agents have been a destabilizing force for years. This could win public opinion, after all - it was Solas who. Who cut away the Anchor.”
“Fen’Harel tried to murder the Most Holy of the Dales,” Bull says, “After taking away a source of immense power for his own use. Go to your priests and use this as proof that Lavellan is in the right as a guard against negative forces and that her reign is watched over by a higher and greater good. Combine that with the idolization and transformation of historical figures into separate ideas and concepts and you’ll be good to go.”
“I like him,” Lyna says, “Can I have him?”
“No, your tastes aren’t compatible,” Lavellan says. “It would ultimately be very disappointing for you both in the end and I would rather spare you both the awkwardness since we will be working in close conjunction together for some time. Perhaps after we deal with the homicidal idealist with grand delusions of penance.”
“Excellent, can I have him?” Theron asks, batting his eyelashes at Bull with an exaggerated wink.
“No,” Lavellan says, “I forbid it, he’s too good for you.”
“The best thing about you becoming the Commander of the Dales and Most Holy of the People is that you never had to marry him,” Mahanon says and then casts Bull a considering glance, “I will take him.”
Lavellan scowls, “Absolutely not. What would you even want him for?”
“What do you want him for?” Mahanon fires back and Lavellan closes her eyes with a look of pure exasperation that screams for patience.
“Out with it. Whatever it is you’re just snapping at the bit to say, since you see much more exuberant than your usual self. Just spit it out. We don’t have time for you to be petty.“
“You should not have allowed yourself to be summoned like a dog,” Mahanon immediately replies, flatly and pointed. Lavellan narrows her eyes at him. Theron and Lyna both grimace. Mahanon stares straight back at Lavellan with an unwavering gaze. “You know it. I know it. We all, in this entire country know it. If only that were your first mistake.”
Cullen’s eyes widen. Josephine blinks rapidly. Leliana’s eyes just slide between the two.
Bull stares at the side of Mahanon’s head and wonders how the fuck he got this far without losing it, knowing Lavellan’s temper.
“I,” Lavellan says slowly breathing out as she spreads her palm flat on the table, “Am going to forgive your complete and utter idiotic lack of common sense in speaking to me that way when we are neither speaking in privacy or without my specific leave for you to drop formality, out of the goodness of my fucking heart.”
Theron and Lyna groan, shoulders sagging as they stare upwards at the ceiling.
“They couldn’t wait to get this done for after,” Theron sighs.
Lyna turns around and goes to sit on the cushions, snagging Josephine and Leliana by the arms, “Might as well sit. This is going to take a while. Mahanon’s been itching for this for months.”
“Right, want a drink? I don’t think we have anything quite strong enough to carry us through this piss contest,” Theron says dryly as he gestures towards a liquor cabinet lined up on the far wall, “But I’m sure it counts that we try.”
“Ah yes, the goodness of your heart that’s caused you to leave your country for almost four consecutive years,” Mahanon plows on, still standing at attention but practically glaring down his nose at Lavellan who’s curled her shoulders in her chair like someone ready to lunge. “The goodness of your heart that caused you to leave the false empress on the throne of Orlais. Do you mean that specific goodness of your heart, Commander?”
“Is it like this all the time?” Bull asks as he sits down on one of the cushions, accepting a crystal glass of something that smells faintly of dandelions from Theron.
“Oh you should see them around the holidays,” Theron laughs, “It gets explosive, really.”
“And this is - permitted,” Leliana says, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.
“Not exactly,” Lyna admits. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s actually not,” Theron says.
“No,” Lyna sighs, raising her glass up, “It isn’t. Cheers, I suppose, to the return of the Most Holy, sounding in perfect form.”
“Really,” Theron says, giving the others pitying looks as the not-quite shouting match continues, “It is fine. That’s just how they show - affection.”
“Affection,” Bull repeats.
“Some siblings play a sport together,” Lyna says, “Some siblings share stories and write letters. Some of them share a hobby or craft. Some of them even hug each other.”
“And then there’s the Lavellan twins,” Theron says, “Mahanon is right, it’s very lucky that Ellana became the Most Holy and got our engagement annulled. I don’t think I would have survived marrying into that clan.”
“Cousin,” Lyna sighs shaking her head as she takes another generous drink of out of her crystal goblet, “You wouldn’t have survived the courtship announcement, let alone made it to the actual ceremony.”
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A gift for @geeky-afakasi with help from @beamthechao who inspired this fantastic chinera ant au💖💖
The sound of designer heels, an expensive pair that was most likely studded in rivers of diamonds and hugged by velvet and gold, clicks against the marble floors. It was amazing how a sound so mundane, so everyday, could be the cause of such chaos in a professional, well known, multi million dollar company.
Now it wasn’t rare to hear a pair of heels bang against smooth tile (seeing how most of the women and few men preferred the footwear), but it was sharp tack tack tack, followed by the smell of roses that alerted most of the employees that the queen had made her appearance.
The Queen, better known as the CEO of chimera communications and technology, rarely visited head office. The queen was a figure head. An older woman with warm brown skin and large oval eyes, her locks lay hidden by a dark red hijab that covered silver hair which would give away her age. She was someone who made her way across the world with her hand picked team, cutting deals, and sometimes cutting throats when it came to hard business (all for a good cause, however).
There was no one in the world who could rival the empire she has built after the death of her late spouse, a cruel man who had given her nothing more than the one son who shared his facial characteristics, and had instantly become the woman’s pride and joy.
Being a single mother running a huge corporation had not been easy, but her employees were treated like family and as the company grew so did the bond between them
To the Queen’s right was Colt, walking in pace but always a step behind. He was one of the first men to be hired to work for the chimeras, his fierce ambition and sense of loyalty making him one of three executives in the entire company. With dark hair and sharp eyes, he always dressed professionally, his suit bearing tiny wings on the cufflinks as his one name brand element. He had coined the line himself, but always kept the chimera business dear to his heart, even as he travelled overseas with the queen to meet with other potential companies that they could overtake.
“There are exactly fifty four hours and twenty seven minutes before our plane to yorknew is due to leave.” Colt says with a firmness that would be appalling to most, but to the queen, it was a tone bearing utmost respect. “Once we land from our detour in NGL we will be greeted by the head of the Zodiac corporation. Netero will be providing our rooms and dinner reservations, as per agreement.”
“Make a note of it to have my things sent over from NGL to yorknew via private blimp.” She says swiftly, eyes running over the doors of offices where employees had pressed their faces against the glass in hopes of getting a view of the woman who had started it all.
“I will make a note of it and send the message directly later today.” Colt hums, his leather briefcase brushing against his thigh before someone darted into the hallway from seemingly nowhere, their blond hair flowing around them before being followed by a long silky black scarf and a whirlwind of glitter.
Glancing back at Pouf, the head of the financial division and the backbone of this locations funds (as well as a full time stick in the mud), Colt wasn’t surprised to see the man flustered. Colt had spent many months training with the blond, sometimes their ideas conflicting, until the rare moment where they made a earth shaking breakthrough together. When the queen had asked who would join her overseas, and who would manage head office (because it was only Pouf and Colt who she felt confident in placing this responsibility on), Pouf had been the one to lose the opportunity to be at her side, and was left behind.
Later Colt had learned Pouf had given up the chance so Colt could take it.
Although Colt didn’t exactly get along with the man, they had learned to accept and trust the other, but it amused Colt greatly at how flustered Pouf always seemed to be.
Pouf, with a clipboard and pen in hand, could not fathom the possibility of having overlooked this moment. Having Colt walk in suddenly would have been nothing to fret over. All Pouf needed to do was show some case files of their work stats and offer the man some black tea. But seeing the queen was often a blessing and a curse, as any employer would be.
Hearing chatter break out in the hallways they passed, Pouf could only hope to smother this tension over and lead the guests to his own office as he informed the buildings head of the affairs taking place.
“Madam president, your arrival is earlier than noted. I didn’t have time to prepare the paperwork or speak to the other department heads or even-” Pouf is cut off as the woman smiles at him.
“What did I say about you calling me madam president? I may be in my fifties but I’m not that old. Please, feel free to call me something less formal. Mother perhaps?” She chuckles as Pouf latches to her side, following her through the main lobby, “now, what are the numbers for this quadrant?” she asks, her tone shifting to one more appropriate for business.
“Twelve percent with an estimated point three gross over the next four months.” Pouf says proudly, his sharp eyes darting around the room in a panic, knowing what kind of insolent staff the building had and how lenient this divisions boss was. He wasn’t sure (or more like, he was very sure how afraid he was) of how the queen was going to react.
“And how is the department running, Pouf?” he jumps the the question he automatically dreaded, “has everything been going smoothly?” the woman prompts.
“Of course!” Pouf blurts out, lying being his first thought, “business is booming and the clients are all happy!”
“Fantastic, and what of the staff?”
Pouf winces a moment and shivers when Colts eyes focus on him, before glancing down at the butterfly wing charm on poufs collar, a product from Colts “wing” line.
“Absolutely amazing. The security is talented and have stopped all issues before they have time to unfold, especially from outside sources. Our scientists are busily working away on new creative, and very, very safe products for our consumers to buy into for the purpose of better communications. Our HR lead is one of the most positive and uplifting, provide amazing customer service and helping our staff with their personal qualms. Our head receptionist holds this family together, always working hard to keep everything in order. Ah, and the sales staff we have are not only respectful, but positively professional. We have three experts for our Public relations team who focus directly on branding our image with the goal of not only creating public events but also placing an emphasis on community. Our building manager is very active in taking care of any safety issues, as well as tending to the many plants we have in place to make a more positive environment. Our financial lead is like a caring father, who also manages to keep all the books updated weekly with our numbers. And of course, the department head and future CEO of the company has been the best, most supportive of leaders. We have no complaints about his ability.”
The Queen pauses and turns places a hand on Poufs arm, smiling in that ever so sweet way she did, reassuring him that his words were taken for face value and that she did not, even for a second, doubt him. It was that look that gave pouf severe guilt, because he knew. oh hell did he know that every word was just as far from the truth as it could be.
“With a staff like this im sure all has been going well,” she says firmly, turning around and continuing deeper into the building towards the cubicles in the open work space.
D A N G E R. The word flashes through Poufs mind, and Colt picks up on the sudden tension.
In seconds a large man with a suit as dark as his hair approaches, a finger to his ear as he starts speaking, his name tag reading Youpi, along with chief of security.
“Take the suspect to the west wing for investigation under clause 330 B, subsection c for trespassing.” Youpi says into his ear piece, before looking to Pouf who was trying yo subtly tell him to shut up. “It appears that NGL representatives have been protesting our use of technology again and this is the third break in this week at ground level. Bloster has apprehended the men and is now-”
“This is a situation we can easily deal with!” Pouf grimaces as he speaks as the queen continues to walk, listening to Youpi give his report as they enter what could only be a mess hall.
Passing the front desk for HR, sitting with his feet up talking away was Welfin, a tall, slender man with sharp eyes who had on a headset. Pouf could only hope the man was being civil.
“You think that’s a problem? Hell, you dont even know what a real trauma is. Seeing someone fight isn’t worthy of a sick leave, the hell.” Welfin barks up, leaning back in his chair, “you should see what I have to deal with here. One word, Zazan! I should be getting a four day weekend for putting up with her shit! Oh hell, Pouf!” Welfin hangs up and tosses the headset aside as he stands, following the group, not sure who the woman or the stiff were, but not caring in the slightest. “So that vacation I asked for, ya know the time off for next week, seeing how I’ve dealt with-”
Pouf feels his eyes roll back into his head as he resists grabbing Welfin and choking the man, all while youpi is still rambling about broken codes.
“I assure you we have the best staff,” Pouf raises his voice, gawking as Leol, Flutter, and Hina appear with huge posters and rave lights. Leol, tall and bulky in a band t-shirt, raises a hand at Pouf. Flutter, with his head of wiry hair, glances over Hina’s head, the petite woman jumping up excitably as the three rush over. Leol, as head of marketing, would often place up ads on buildings while Flutter would focus on anything skyward like blimps and billboards, while Hina dealt with television and radio ads.
“Pouf, bud!” Leol grins, the three joining the group, “we got everything we need for the sponsor party. Even sick music by Morel the euro god-”
“Great snacks and lots of booze!” Hina chimes in while raising a bottle of champagne as well as a few glow sticks.
“The entertainment will be showing up in a few hours,” Flutter buzzes, “we brought in quality chefs as well. The zodiacs have received their invites.
Trying to catch his breath, Pouf begs for it to stop. “We do not hold parties. We are professionals!”
“We decided to hire the dancers too,” Leol continues.
“I’m thinking two weeks is a little short, and I’ve been feeling under the weather so maybe three would suffice,” Welfin strokes his chin
“There has also been twelve incidents regarding broken office supplies that we are still in the process of replacing after last years incident,” Youpi rambles.
The group come across the secretary’s desk near the back of the large room, where the curly haired Zazan sits painting her nails, looking annoyed as a smirking, energetic man talks at her.
Spotting Pouf, Zazan grabs her nail filer and points it at him, “I do not get paid enough to deal with cheetu so you better get him the hell out of my face or so help me I’ll file for harassment!” she snarls, joining the group and listing everything Cheetu had done to annoy her.
“Our secretary is a loving, and respectable human being.” Pouf grits out, feeling Colts eyes bore into his back.
Cheetu, with zeal, heads to the front of the group, walking backwards with a grin as he waves for Poufs attention. The blond pales and his nails dig into his clipboard, his head shaking as in no, Cheetu, shut your damn mouth.
“Okay great! Listen up to my new pitch!” Cheetu clears his throat, his salesperson representative self coming out, “Tired? Tired of technology running slow? Don’t you wish you could talk faster? Don’t you wish you could talk so fast that you would be abletotalktoeveryoneallthe-” Cheetus rambling becomes too quick and excited to understand and pouf is dying.
The queen makes it into the science sector and slowly Pouf whispers oh no as the sound of an explosion occurs, before a slight smoke makes its way out of the door. No one is phased as a woman with white curly hair throws herself out of the room her white medical lab coat a little singed.
“That was a rush hell yea!” she coughs and notices the group, and leaps at pouf, “the new coolant adhesive is almost done! We’re making it less flammable but hell does it have a kick! It’s amazing! I’ve never seen subject 2I9H 3000 react so fiverantly, there have only been four explosions this week!”
Youpi taps his earpiece, “Pitou again. Send men to clean up. Extinguishers needed.”
“The vacation will help me relax and be a better HR lead! Come on, Pouf!”
“These explosions are horrible for my headaches, especially when dealing with idiots!” Zazan whines
“Ya know if the budget was increased we could totally bring in a sick bartender, like the phantom troupe are an A-class party must have, right Flutter?”
“Talk all the time with chimera communications! never stop! Never stop talking just keep taking always-”
“Ya know, with this experiment almost done, if i reversed the polarity I could probably make the adhesive into a bomb-”
“Dont!” Pouf yells over the chatter, “absolutely do not! Remove the thought from your mind!”
Pitou sulks as a new voice enters the fray, a short, bulky man with wise eyes and a beak nose. In his hands were slips of gray paper, and on his chest was a name tag reading Peggy, finance. Around his neck was a lanyard that held every nerdy button the man could get his hands on. Some like “checkmate for the king,” or “like a good friend chimera com is there,” and “edgar allen poe before hoes.”
“I’m glad you’re all here, because it’s pay day!” Peggy grunts out, and cheers amble around as the man hands out slips, watching them get tucked into pockets and shirts, or ripped open fiercely. “Now for this next trimester we need to cut back on some staff funds, and unfortunately that’s the amount of coffee we are buying each week.”
Zazan gawks as she stares at the man, “you monster!”
“Peggy are you insane? We all practically live off coffee,” Welfin shoves past Leol and Flutter, grabbing onto Peggy in disgust. “If I’m not able to make a coffee every two hours, I’ll die. Straight up. I might as well go on sick leave because I won’t be able to function.”
Cheetu nods his head vigorously, “how do you think i get to be the way I am? You think I’m always energetic! Nah! we need our espressos!”
Youpi side eyes the man and mutters under his breath, “he shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near caffeine”
“You’re not the boss of me!” Cheetu yelps, puffing out his chest.
Pouf steps between them and lifts the clipboard in front of cheetus face, “under a general consensus you will be provided only with decaf and you will accept it without complaint! We don’t need anymore incidents like last year-” Pouf gawks as the words slip out
Colt narrows his eyes as he places a hand on Poufs shoulder, “please elaborate.”
A collective breath moves through the group, almost as if there was the presence of a monster amongst them. Pouf could only cower, hoping someone else would step in so he wouldn’t have to.
“Rammot,” Zazan swirls the name in her mouth and grimaces, “that was the worst month, thank god he gone.”
“He was a menace,” Youpi murmurs, “theft, blackmail, slander, assault…”
“And a rude, ugly man to boot.” Hina murmurs, shaking a glow stick vigorously. “And the things he would wear around the office should have been enough of a crime to get him arrested!”
Leol rubs his chin, “I heard he went to jail for killing a man.”
Cheetu nods, “That doesn’t surprise me! What a creep! He punched me once!”
“He spit in my coffee,” Welfin bares his teeth.
Pitou cracks a knuckle, “I was tempted to kill him one time. Try experiment 541 on him.”
The Queen blinks back her surprise as a yell breaks the chatter of the group from the other side of the hall. A balky man with pierced eyebrows and long hair runs towards the group, almost at a gallop. Some could say that the man was horse like in his demeanor; although he lacked any grace and came off as a beast (who was into some questionable kinks, the other employees had unfortunately come to learn). Zazan and Cheetu grimace and step against the walls, knowing that the man with the snake tongue, Yunju, was bound to make a messy entrance.
In his hands he carried a large box, his two assistants (both thin and lean, sticking to Yunju as if they were mosquitoes) carried their own boxes.
Now Pouf wasn’t sure what Yunju did. He was…usually just there, with his vulgar mouth and that damn split tongue, which was pierced seeing how it made a clink as it touched his teeth as he spoke.
Part of Pouf wanted to say that Yunju had been hired to be a health rep, although it seemed like hell of a mistake on their hiring department if they did that. Perhaps Yunju was the hiring department. What a nightmare.
“Nyaa, the chief of privacy,” Pitou whines, looking at Youpi, who technically was the chief of security but never used the title, meaning he and Yunji should have been partners at least. It never happened.
Pouf pales, shocked that he had forgotten that this monster of a man was responsible for all their personal issues and privacy, especially from having their identities safe from being revealed online. Anti technology protesters had been getting more violent with each year
“Got the stuff!” Yunju smirks, spotting Colt, a new face in the crowd, “and a catch.”
Colt gives him a piercing glare, not interested in the man’s advances. Leol and Hina hoot and holler as they leap towards the box, only to have Youpi intervene.
Only now did it come to everyone’s realization that they had been chatting and yelling in front of a large oak door, the only in a long hallway. No one could remember when the tile floors had become carpet, or when the lights had become tinted red, or that it was silent in this sector. Candles and roses sit on their perches, and a glass wall sits opposite to the door, delicate but deadly looking fish filling the space.
Standing on a stool, with their back turned to the crowd, is Kite. Short, lanky, silent at most times, quietly feed the fish. Feeling eyes on their back; they which was covered in long white hair which he occasionally dyed red, he peers over to the crowd.
Despite taking up the role of gardener, and in charge of health and safety, kite was also the third executive of the company.
“Mother,” Kite says lowly, stepping down from the stool. Pouf had almost forgotten Kite was the Queens adopted child.
Behind the large oak doors would be the future CEO of the company, the lead of the entire building. A man who was young, yet notable in his early 20s. He had been a child genius, and eager to learn all from his many tutors. The future ceo was a terrifying and gifted man.
As the doors were thrown open, everyone in the hallway held their breath as Meruem appeared, silent, somber, his dark hair covering his forehead, his eyes looking sharp with pointed eyeliner and his purple contacts.
“What is the meaning of this noise?” Meruem asks, voice soft and yet almost sultry
Pouf hesitates and tries to work up the courage to offer an explanation, a reason, something to ease the heavy, smoggy tension.
“We….They…The Queen-” Pouf almost curses himself as tears spring to his eyes. How could he explain the motive behind the horrible staff. Everyone had left their posts! All they did was argue! Or fight! Or try to blow things up! Godawful, good for nothing trouble makers! Everyone here, and the queen had watched it all.
Meruem shifts his glance to the queen instead, slightly shocked.”Mother, Pouf did not inform me of your attendance.”
Pouf pales at the mention of his name, positive he was going to lose his damn job.
“I am sure you know why I came,” the woman says lowly, stepping forward to tower over the short man. “To see how you have run my company. To see your employees and their capabilities. To see if you are willing to inherit the CEO title when you turn 25…and to wish you a happy twenty third birthday.” she smiles, breaking from her facade.
Party poppers explode and balloons escape from the box Yunju was carrying. Ikalgo and Melodeon, two delivery boys, ran in with champagne, and cheering radiated through the hallway. Pouf, very quickly realized, this whole thing has been a set up.
“Lighten up pouf! It was fun wasn’t it!” Pitou hoots as glasses are passed around as a cake is brought into meruems office.
“Happy birthday!” is yelled out, and meruem feels his face flush as he beams at the gesture.
To be so loved by his family and company was a true blessing, Meruem realized, lost in a sea of voices. Despite being thankful, meruem knew that one day he would have that special someone here with him, to meet his mother and coworkers. But for now, Meruem would enjoy the impromptu party.
And pouf? Pouf would be fine
Well, after he stopped crying tears of relief that is
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ok y’all remember how like two days ago i was cryin in the Least Formal manner abt henry’s coping mechanisms & childish nature well here’s a proper(TM) hc post abt it strap in m’dudes here we go i don’t promise it’ll make sense but y’know i will Try
first & foremost , i wanna point out specific traits that henry possesses and then i’ll like... go into depth abt them or whatever but alrighty :
01. finding jokes / amusement in everything , even if it is not appropriate to do so 02. a desire to please / obey based on a perceived reward system , even if that reward is simply an absence of punishment 03. a fear of pain despite desiring death ( & an exciting death at that ) 04. the idea of ‘ power ’ vs ‘ weakness ’ / a closer look @ certain fears
k so here we go . . . first off , if we look at henry’s childhood it was not a happy place. the closest thing they had to positive companionship was animals , the love of other human beings a foreign affair from their earliest memories. even prior to the institution , things were not good & i imagine , that like most children , henry tried very hard ( at first ) to gain their parents’ love & affections ( there’s some quote that goes like . . . ‘ mother / parents are god in the eyes of a child ’ & i think that held true for some length of time ?? they v much wanted to please these beings who brought them into the world bc they were , despite it all , very precious to henry ) via being a ‘ good child ’ i.e. trying to do as told , regardless of what it was. while i don’t believe their parents simply dumped them in the woods ( the translations from jpn supports seem to suggest they did ‘ raise ’ them ) i do believe they were heavily neglectful , most likely not people who wanted a child at all but got stuck with one nonetheless. there was nothing henry could have done to make their parents fond of them , but ?? that is not a concept they will recognize until later.
so with that said , from that henry started to learn this idea of ‘ people pleasing ’ that they address a few times ( the most prominent ones that come to mind are their comment about ‘ if you don’t trust me , you can just kill me ’ & some comment that is made to robin about how the only order they won’t obey is ‘ don’t fight ’ , but i’ll address that a bit later on ) and the concept that they didn’t matter particularly , just the whims of those around them , something that was further expanded upon in the institution they were sent to.
from what henry says , we can assume it was not just an orphanage or place to house ‘ unruly ’ children. they mention spikes being on the floor & in a conversation with olivia they state ‘ It was in this institution my parents put me in, right~ there were quite severe punishments for kids who didn't listen -- that kind of stuff happened~ Now that was painful~ ’ which i am positive instilled in them a sense of obedience , further than that which their parents began. if you acted out , if you failed to do as told , if you fucked up in any capacity , you were subjected to extreme pain & near death experiences ( & frankly , i’m sure henry did watch some kids die while they were there ; accidents happen & no one seemed to care very much for these kids ) and henry has , without a doubt , been subjected to such pain themselves. which is where this idea of pain = bad , death = good likely begins to stem from as well ; pain is a prolonged thing , a very bad thing , a sign that you had done something wrong & it could hurt for very long periods of time , whereas death , they began to see , was instant release. to some degree , they were likely jealous of the kids that died , because at least then those kids were no longer suffering , never having to feel pain again. from this whole experience a lot of shit stemmed , not just that.
beyond just this concept of pain is bad , death is good , & a need to do as told , they were forced to normalize certain things at a very young age , those things being death , murder , blood , violence , pain , punishment . . . etc , etc. essentially , very bad things. being a kid , ‘ normalizing ’ them meant . . . not making them a ‘ comfort ’ per-se , but making them familiar in a way that wasn’t negative. to fear or hate them would have been too much for them to handle , so it had to become a game or an ‘ okay thing ’ & as such , henry’s fascination with war / blood / death became a coping mechanism , finding familiarity in such things as it was all they ever really knew and were unable to think of it was ‘ bad ’ ( on some level they are , of course , aware that it is not. a good thing. but to face that prospect is to face a lot of other shit that a child simply wasn’t prepared to do & that now , as an adult , henry is somewhat incapable of doing at present time bc their mind sort of ... stuck ??? them ??? in a child - like state because maturing was too difficult in the given environment ) and to a child if something isn’t bad then it must be good --- right ? thus comes the commentary of ‘ i love war ’ & a general chill attitude toward really morbid shit. but , beyond that , i think what they really appreciate is that they have this very familiar situation and where they are currently , they are not a victim of it. which brings me to point 04.
henry is not sadistic , in the sense that they do not find joy in the suffering of others & even go so far as to promise quick & painless deaths to people important to them b/c they understand that pain is a terrifying , awful thing. however. they do enjoy being in a position where they are ‘ powerful ’ i.e. in a position where they can inflict these situations vs. having to merely take them , though i think they vastly prefer like . . . giving quick deaths vs. painful ones , when they are on the battle field.
essentially henry is a scared child ( ‘ child ’ they’re an adult but y’know. childlike mentality. ) who doesn’t want to be hurt anymore but only recognizes carnage as a ‘ norm ’ & takes comfort in the fact that they now have a position in it wherein they may die , but they’re not a victim. they feel safer in this familiar environment , the way things are now. fear , i think , is a big motivator for them and they see a lot of things in a . . . not necessarily ‘ black and white ’ sort of sense , but a. ‘ if this is a thing then x isn’t ’ sort of ?? way ?? and there are exceptions and henry is capable of having in depth conversations abt it but like . . . they don’t want to lmao ?? not if ur gonna argue w/ them. so there’s that.
but that also brings me back to the ‘ don’t tell me not to fight ’ point from earlier. what i personally take that to mean is like . . . ‘ dont tell me to sit back and be hurt / let someone be hurt ’ bc that is , in a way , playing the victim again. being powerless in this sort of a situation. while henry is a very submissive person , they desperately don’t want to be hurt or put a helpless situation ever again. there’s a difference between people pleasing and letting yourself be put into a place where you’re actively suffering & can’t do anything about it.
oh yeah also henry is aware they’re coping lmao ,,, they know they use laughter and smiles and childlike behavior and the normalization of fucked up shit to get by , they know it’s not. actually ok. as seen in one of the convos they have w/ ... owain or inigo idr which rn but it’s one of them. so they’re capable of mature convos. abt this sort of shit but they : ) don’t like to have them : ) as much as they love oversharing that’s the sort of stuff u gotta like... fish out of them & they gotta be close to you before you get to the bottom of that can of worms so.
anyway i’m not sure this post had much of a point and it’s a bit all over the place and maybe unclear in some spots but this is how i chose 2 spend a solid hour of my life so here we are...
#` . * ✧ | ooc . headcanon#long post -#this is ... very long#why did i.#type so much. why ?? why did i.#oh right triggers#child abuse -#child neglect -#death ment -#death idealization -#sensitive material -#my catch all ... for ' idfk what else 2 tag this as but i feel like it needs more than that '#anyway this probs doesnt make sense but it's 2:30 in the morning so whatever#canon could smack this out of my hands and tell me im wrong w/ my analysis and i could Ignore It so like#twiddles my thumbs
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