#it has been decided from the beginning that it ends in despair
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
You’re My Baby Too
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: none
You'd think that the second pregnancy would be a breeze. You already know everything about how it goes, how to prepare, what to expect, but in your case, your second pregnancy was dreadful.
First trimester, horrible nausea, you spent half your time over the toilet with Lando holding your hair. Your baby boy was so much bigger than Isla it made your back hurt like crazy all the time, and the worst thing of all was that your baby boy didn't wanna come out.
You prayed you wouldn't give birth before Lando finished the season, so when the season ended you were relieved. But then your due date passed, and nothing happened. Then five days passed after your due date, nothing again. 10 days after your due date - the baby just doesn't wanna come out.
You were frustrated, exhausted, and tired of being pregnant. You just wanted to be able to see your feet again and be able to get up off the couch without Lando having to pull your hand.
"It's because you make such a good home for him he doesn't wanna come out, love." Lando tried to calm you down in a nice way, not even realizing that he irritated you with that because he's been saying that for the last 10 days and your nerves have become very thin hearing it.
"I swear, if you say that one more time.." You barked rolling your eyes at him while holding your still very pregnant belly.
"I'm sorry, I'll shut up.."
“Thank you.” You glared at him.
He didn't hold it against you for your brazen response because he understood that it had become too much for you. Lately, he's been walking on eggshells around you because everything has been annoying you, and he didn't want to be the one to contribute to that.
When the twelfth day passed since your due date, you realized that too much time had passed and you even started to worry a little that something was wrong. So Lando decided to take you to the hospital, where you very clearly told the doctor that you weren't leaving the place until you gave birth.
You thought that by some miracle, as soon as you stepped into the hospital, labor would start and you would just pop the baby out and everything would be over in less than two hours just like it was with Isla, but of course that wasn't the case with this baby.
"I think we have no other choice but to induce the labor." The doctor said.
"Okay, how long does it take?" You asked. "Is it like natural labor or?"
"Induced labor can last from a few hours to a few days, it depends. It's most often completed within 12 to 18 hours from the start of the procedure."
"Oh my God" You sighed in despair with tears in your eyes and Lando immediately squeezed your hand to offer you at least some comfort.
"Does it hurt more than a normal birth?" Lando was very concerned about how painful it would be for you. While you were giving birth to Isla, Lando was of course by your side, and even though it was much shorter and easier, he was still terribly shaken to see the pain you went through.
"I don't want to discourage you and scare you right from the start, but many women have said that induced labor is more painful."
And boy oh boy was it painful.
When they gave you the drip to induce contractions, that's when the real agony began. The drip makes contractions stronger and more frequent and you can't even begin to explain what you'd compare that pain to.
You were sweating.
Crying.
Gripping the sides of the bed and Lando's hand, which at one point you thought you were going to break.
You honestly felt like dying. What was supposed to be the most beautiful experience of your life was quickly turning into a nightmare.
Lando was heartbroken seeing you like this. He was putting cold compresses on you, hugging you, kissing you, comforting you, begging you to endure this.
"I'm so sorry baby, I wish I could go through this instead of you. I'm so sorry."
He didn't leave you for a second, except when you caught a 5-minute break from the contractions and managed to close your eyes for at least a moment and calm down. Lando said he had to go to the bathroom.
He lied actually. Instead he went to the hallway outside your room where his parents were patiently waiting. By the look on his face, Cisca and Adam could see that Lando was not well and that he himself was traumatized.
Lando didn't say anything, he just hugged Cisca and buried his face in her neck, soaking her shoulder with tears.
"I'm so fucking scared for her. It wasn't like this the first time." Lando cried quietly.
"Oh honey, y/n's going to be alright, I promise you. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but soon this will pass and you'll be going home with your baby." Cisca comforted trying to lift his spirits. "Honey, you need to get yourself together, alright? She needs you right now and you need to be there for her."
When labor finally began after 14 long hours, you were running out of strength. You were so exhausted that you weren't sure if you would be able to push the baby out.
"Push y/n, push!" The doctor encouraged.
"I c-can't" You cried breathing rapidly. "Lando, I can't do it.."
"Come on baby, you can, I know you can. Just a little bit more and it's done, I promise. You've got this" He was pushing your hair out of your face, holding your hand, and holding your leg at the same time.
"Come on, push, push! I can see the head!"
Finally, the baby's cry was heard and soon the baby boy was on your chest. As soon as you saw him, all the pain instantly vanished.
He was so perfect. So worth it.
Lando couldn't contain his emotions as he rested his head on your shoulder, carefully observing his baby.
Later that day, when everything had calmed down, Lando was still there by your side. He couldn't be separated from you nor did he want to. His gaze shifted between you and the baby watching you both sleep peacefully.
He was tired too. He didn't really remember the last time he slept, but he knew you had it worse than him anyway, so he didn't even think of complaining.
"Lan?"
"Hey, love" His face lit up when you opened your eyes. When he saw you smile, it brought energy back to him. He took your hand and pressed a kiss to it. "Did you get some rest?"
"I did, why didn't you?" You asked him when you saw the huge dark circles under his eyes and the same clothes from the day before yesterday. "Baby, please go home, I know you're exhausted too."
"The only way I'm getting out of here is with you two."
You didn't want to argue with him because you knew it was pointless. You were just grateful that he was there and that he was yours.
"My pretty, pretty girl. I'm so proud of you." Lando said softly caressing your cheek and looking into your tired eyes. "I love you so much you know that, right?"
"I know, I can feel it. I love you too, so much." You say before kissing him. "Where are our kids?"
"This little guy is sleeping here without a care in the world."
"And Isla? She didn't come with your parents?"
"No, I told them not to bring her because I knew you'd get too emotional if you saw her, and I wanted you to rest as much as possible."
"You should've told them to bring her, I really miss her and I can't wait for her to meet her brother." You said, but you could still see the worry in Lando's eyes. "I'm fine, Lan, I promise."
"We're done with the kids. Our family is complete now."
"Lan.." You chuckled.
"No, I'm serious. I never want to see you go through so much pain again. It's been so hard to watch you like that and not be able to do anything and I'm not putting you through it again. "
"It was worth it tho. Look at him, he's so perfect. I'd do it all over again for our baby"
"I know, I know, but you're my baby too." No matter how many children you have, his protective attitude towards you will never change.
"Oh, love.." You pulled his hand to get up from the chair and come sit on the bed next to you so you can cuddle up next to him.
"I can't wait to take you home, both of you." He said quietly kissing your forehead.
You rested your head on his chest, knowing that wherever you are, as long as he's there, everything is fine.
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1#lando norris#lando norris imagine#f1 one shot#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#lando norris fluff#lando norris blurb#lando norris one shot#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#f1 smut#f1 scenario#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 blurb
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Like Birds on a Broken Branch | 1
Monster! Task Force 141 X F!Reader
Drabble / Masterlist / DISCORD SERVER
Preface
Females have begun to decline as swiftly as time has, and that was when males of all races, began to become desperate. This led to women being collected at birth and sold at auction, and they gradually became one of the most coveted items.
Despairing to keep what have to become sacred treasures across the land hidden, parents started to hide their daughters.
You are one of them.
Until, what you had always thought your last hope, the Government issued a large-scale raid for women, and forced you out of hiding, thrown into the house of four powerful monsters.
Context Warning: NSFW! Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dub-con/ Non-con, Fingering, Murder, Author's Poor Attempt in Dark Fic, Monsterfucking, Mentions of Slavery
Disgusting, filthy, bottom crawlers.
That was the first thought that came to your mind as the Shadow Company of the Government raided your once safe haven. Your body trembled before them as though you were heaved into a freezing lake, left to die. Your breathing was heavy as though you went for a track. Your sweat coated every inch of your skin.
But the cleaver knife and gun in your hand said otherwise.
Heads and hearts exploded each time a deafening noise echoed in everyone's ears, blocking all sounds, but not yours. All you could hear was the beat of your heart, telling you never to stop.
Each second was enough time to burn down another one's story. However, this was the beginning of your tale.
When all you could see was crimson, when all you could hear was the echo of your heart and the clinking of bullet shells, light shone from behind. And you staggered forward, feeling a scorching heat from your stomach and chest, where blood oozed out which never seemed to come to an end—the sign of your freedom already stolen.
In a blink, gone.
After all, a story never begins with one who already has everything.
It was impossible to block out the stifled sobs of all the women around you, even if you had tried cupping your hands over your ears and closing your eyes.
Just like you, who had fought for your freedom, but to no avail, they were captured a week before. However, you couldn't bring yourself to cry. More than anything, you were tired . . . and mad.
You had been shot twice before your capture, and the bullets the Shadows used were laced with poison. Normally, that would only be used to neutralize monsters, but seeing how you murdered people just to escape, the leader must have realized you were more than what you appeared to be.
That, and the fact that only women can bring life to this godforsaken land, were the reason why men and monsters decided to make them their toys. But these women had long lost their will to live their life the way they wanted. The sparks in their eyes that were said to be the undisputed magic which always brings men to their knees, were now gone.
You couldn't exactly pity them when you were about to experience the same. In fact, you were already in the same state as they were: stripped naked for every goddamned eye to see.
Your name echoed in the corridor, and one of the men, standing guard, dressed in all black, grabbed your arm. He pulled you up to your feet and whispered to your ears, “You better behave out there,” he tightened his grip as he dragged you. “Graves won't hesitate to put another bullet on you.”
You rolled your eyes. “We all know I will fetch a great price. You wouldn't want to lose a large sum of money, don't you?”
“Threatening my Shadows again?” A silvery voice emerged from the darkness, taking the form of a man with slicked-back, blond hair, dressed in the finest suit you had ever put an eye on.
Phillip Graves was a monster—a bloodsucking leech in human clothing, leader of the monsters you had blasted a hole in when they rampaged your home, and the very one to make it even by shooting you and capturing you.
He flashed a small smile at you, condescending enough to make your blood boil. He took you from his subordinate, arm snaking around your waist, and pulling you close to him.
Your breasts planted on his chest, making it appear more ample, and on your stomach, you could feel something hard. A grimace appeared on your face and a shiver ran down your spine as his hands traveled from your waist down to your ass. His fingers slowly went south through the gap of your thighs. You loathed this feeling, the cold touch of his calloused fingers, his hard grip, and the strong scent of his cologne mixed with rust—with blood. But if you retaliated, he would break your bones, over and over again, knowing that you could heal faster than most.
And this sadist wouldn't hesitate to take your virginity himself before selling you to others, like a toy that he had already gotten tired of.
“You sure you don't want me to take you?” Phillip leaned down, planting an open-mouthed kiss on your shoulder. “I can delay your show and we can have some time.”
“No,” you grunted, turning your head to the side, eyeing his servants who watched the movements of Phillip’s hands running over your body.
A chuckle escaped his lips, inhaling your scent as his nose trailed to your temple. “A shame,” he whispered, his sharp fangs grazing your skin, fingers caressing your folds, already slightly soaked.
You bit your lip to hold back the noise threatening to escape from your lips.
He stepped away from you and watched you immediately try to cover yourself with your arms. But oh, you foolish little bird, he could still see every inch of you.
He would take you, sure, if that was what you wanted. But good sex was nothing to a good sum of money. He can buy or rent any woman he pleases, with the price he could get from you. Besides, there were acquaintances of his who wouldn't want a woman who had already been touched.
Plus points, you were educated.
Cons: you fucking know how to kill.
Wherever the fuck you learned to do that.
He brought his fingers to his lips, licking away your fluids that grazed his fingers. “Well, let's get going.” He smiled and took your wrist, like a misbehaving dog on a walk park now being dragged home.
His hand swiped the curtain open and you squinted your eyes, blinded by the overhead lights, until you finally adjusted to the brightness, which followed you and Graves as you climbed up the stairs of a platform. Shame brought your body to flame as every gaze shifted on your naked flesh, chatters that sounded like static echoed endlessly in your ears.
From there, all you desired was for everything to burn.
John Mactavish leaned forward from his seat, bright blue eyes raking upon every inch of your body, but what caught his attention was the condescending look on your eyes, which declared every man in your sight lower than vermins walking on this land. Then, your eyes settled on Mactavish as Phillip Graves began your brief introduction to all the monsters inside the auction, and seemingly to judge his entire existence, he felt himself wanting more of your attention, of whatever you speak. He felt the desire in your gaze, the hunger for eradication.
Oh, you would look glorious sitting on his lap, bouncing up and down on his dick as you please, until you suck him dry. John felt his dick hardening, brushing against the fabric of his pants. He turned on his seat, facing Jonathan Price, whom they considered the leader of their hoard, but before he could utter a word the same man spoke.
“I like this one,” Price declared, making the other two on the same table as them, shift their gazes at him. Price took a long drag from his cigar before he continued. “She reminds me of the time when women stood proud and confident. We barely see that kind of spark in the eyes of females anymore, and I’d like to bring that spark into nothing but a speck of ash.”
“You’re a sadist, Price,” a man in a skull mask remarked, voice low and gruff, snapping his head back as the bidding started, each time a monster spoke, the price got higher.
Price turned his head to the man, his eyes glowing gold like a flame imprisoned within. “Nothing shall burn brighter than my fire, Simon.” He pulled a smirk on his lips, sharp fangs glinting, and motioned at the other one among them, raising his hand. “Kyle, would you please?”
However, before Kyle could raise their designated number, Graves raised a hand, bringing silence to the room, and he began, “Most of you might think that she is just a human, but let me show you something that would assure that she was the most valuable one we have ever had in a hundred years.”
You snapped your neck at Phillip, frowning at his face until his fingernails became dark and sharp like the claws of a wild beast. With a swift movement, his nails dragged on your arm, making you wince in pain, and blood began to run down. Each plop of blood on the floor made monsters gulp and each centimeter of the wound closed made monsters rise from their feet.
Even Phillip Graves had a hard time resisting the sight of blood and forcing himself on you for the sake of money.
Who wouldn’t want a woman who can take this much damage? Who wouldn’t want a woman who would ensure their offspring would come out stronger?
Then, a booming laughter echoed across the sea of yells, surfacing among others. Just as you turned to see where it came from, a flash of yellow came into your sight, and you leaned back, your heart leaping to your throat when a man towered over you.
Not a man. A monster.
Devil's incarnate.
Sharp horns sprouted from his forehead. On his back, a pair of leathery wings unrolled and a thick, scaly tail slapped Graves away from you before he could complain. And with a single sniff, a huff which brought the smell of smoke up your nostrils, Price’s eyes flashed gold.
“We’re bringing you home.” He pushed his lips onto yours, scaly hands wrapping around your waist, sharp claws scraping your skin. You tried to push him off, but one of his hands grabbed your hand so tight you thought your bones would break.
You whimpered against his mouth, making him chuckle and bite down on your lower lip, his fang piercing through the fragile skin. You tasted blood on your tongue and so did he as you were heaved up, forced to wrap your legs around his waist. Your cunt brushed onto the harsh fabric of his pants and the growing tent between them.
You bit back a moan and pulled away. “Stop—” But his hand pulled you back into his fervent, disgusting kiss. He left his marks on the expanse of your collarbone, then down to the valley of your breasts, leaving open-mouthed kisses as he reached on your head, pulling on your tresses.
It made you turn your head and you watched three other men get on the platform as well—one who appeared to be the most normal-looking among them, giving two cases of money to Graves, who didn’t seem much pleased after he was shoved off stage.
And before this very crowd, you were brought back the curtains and to God knows where.
May we all have seats reserved in hell already.
Next Chapter / Archive of Our Own / DISCORD SERVER
Comment if you want to be on the taglist
#call of duty#john price x reader#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#cod 141#john price#kyle gaz garrick#141 x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#gaz x reader#ghost simon riley#ghost smut#141 smut#monster#monster x reader#monster x you#monster x human#monster 141 au#cod smut#john price smut#price smut#gaz smut#soap smut#monster au#cod
408 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere Contained Monster Family (4)
Part One • Two •Three
“Now as we begin your examination, you cannot cut, snap, outwardly threaten, vocalize aggressively to the guards present. The same actions towards me will result in a 40 hours subject to forceful neutralization. So do you agree to the terms?”
The Werewolf sends a look at the shaking operator holding the gate
He nods, standing on the authorized mark while the guards pour in before you
“Clear!”
You enter with the scientists trained to maintain the upkeep of the werewolf
Keeping their observations to themselves, you keep the werewolf’s attention
You figure you’d like being distracted while you were being poked and prodded at (not like that would ever happen to you though)
“So how’s your morning been Rod?”
“I’m doing much better than usual.”
“That’s good. Do you have any questions for me?”
“Is your Uncle blood-related to you?”
The question has you tilt your head to the side
Rod and Villar agreed that to release their human child from this evil facility they’d have to make you question everything
That way you’ll be more inclined to help them when they decide to leave
“He is. Are you curious because he’s so different then I?”
Rod fully planned to question you further specifically about your origin but a well almost perfectly+ timed deep extraction of hair had him wincing and the test being concluded
“Thanks for your cooperation Rod? You cool with the same thing next week?”
“In exchange for the time I get to spend with Villar?”
“Yes!”
“Can you…join us next time?”
You’re about to head out of the enclosure when you stop
“What do you need a mediator for you two?”
Rod doesn’t respond to your snark, just waiting intensely for your answer
Which you fully step out of the enclosure walking around to your usual window
“Sorry Rod but I’m no counselor and I’m strictly forbidden from speaking to more than one of our…’guests’ without an immediate threat of termination...on your end.”
Rod refused to show the despair that washed over him
While he wasn’t known for all the decades he lived to let his mind imagine what could be his husband did
And when they last were able to communicate Villar had gushed about what it’d be like if they could both look down at you together again and somehow spark the memory of your childhood with them
Alas that didn’t seem possible unless either of them wanted to possibly get sniped by the real monster that they suspect was behind them losing you all those years ago
“Don’t look so upset. If it matters that much to you, I’ll look at the video recordings.”
Now that was something they could work with
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#platonic yandere#yandere platonic#yandere platonic monster family#platonic yandere monster#platonic yandere x reader#platonic yandere monsters#yandere x gn reader#yandere monsters#yandere vampire#platonic yandere werewolf#platonic yanderes#platonic yandere oc#platonic yandere original characer
337 notes
·
View notes
Note
For James Beaufort
He has a girlfriend and Ruby tries to ruin it but fail and if you do smut can you add it at the end no pressure to do this.
THE PHOTOS, JAMES BEAUFORT.
A/N I changed Ruby to Elaine because I don't really see Ruby trying to ruin a relationship.
PAIRING James Beaufort x Fem!Reader
TW/TAGS Established relationship, kind of angsty, fluff? at the end. There may be grammatical and spelling errors since English is not my first language.
SUMMARY Despite all of Elaine's attempts to separate you from James, she never succeeded.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN | JAMES' MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
You and James had been dating for months now.
While most of Maxton Hall considered you both the king and queen of the school, others simply did not accept your relationship.
By "others" I mean Elaine Ellington.
Before, she saw you as a friend or something close to it, someone she could get along with since your father was one of the most important businessmen in the place.
But all thoughts of getting along evaporated the second she saw you arrive at Maxton Hall holding hands with the boy she wanted.
From that moment on she promised herself that she would do everything possible to separate you both.
She went from trying to kiss James in front of you at a party, ending in him rejecting her in front of everyone, to her asking one of his friends to try to flirt with you and making you uncomfortable, which ended in James asking someone to beat the shit out of him, since he couldn't risk his reputation doing it himself, but if he could he would have broken the boy's face.
Faced with several failed attempts, Elaine was beginning to despair, but the idea of letting you and James be happy was never in her plans.
Until one day she had an idea.
Somehow he got a girl quite similar to you from the back and had pictures taken of her kissing another guy at a party.
"Perfect." She muttered looking at the photos on her phone. No doubt James would fall and finally leave you.
She walked through the halls to where James was with his friends, you were in a class right at that moment.
"Can we talk?"
James sighed, tired of the situation.
"No, Elaine, I already told you a thousand times that..."
"It's about y/n."
That certainly caught James' attention. He walked away from the group so he could talk to the blonde.
“What about y/n?”
"I didn't want you to find out from me but it seems fair that you know, I shouldn't play with you like that."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
She took her phone out of her bag and showed the photos to James, watching his every reaction, watching how his jaw tensed and how his breathing quickened.
"When did they take these photos?"
"Friday night."
James simply nodded and without saying anything else, he walked towards where Elaine assumed your class was.
She smiled victoriously and left, believing that James would break up with you in a few minutes.
But the next day all hope disappeared again when she saw you both arrive holding hands and laughing with each other.
As you both passed her, James caught her attention.
"Thank you for telling me about the photos."
"Next time make sure I'm not having dinner with his family when according to you I'm kissing another guy." You smiled with false kindness and both of you continued on your way.
Elaine, on the verge of having a tantrum, decided it would be best to wait until you both break up and be there for James.
Although that clearly didn't happen because you ended up engaged to him sooner than she thought.
disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2024.
#── 𝐕al write. ♡̷ ·˚#evermoresversion#james beaufort#james beaufort x reader#james beaufort x y/n#james beaufort imagine#james beaufort imagines#james beaufort fanfic#james beaufort fluff#james beaufort angst#maxton hall#maxton hall fanfic
477 notes
·
View notes
Text
Object of Desire (1/3)
[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]
[ warnings: dubcon, hate sex, sex content, smut, angst, domination, violence, swearing, humiliation, hard chauvinism ]
[ description: Aemond is forced to marry a widow from House Arryn as part of the alliance and support of his brother in the war against the Black faction. This story is an Anon Request, sorry it took me so long. I know anon wanted it to be a softer and sweeter story, but it didn't fit Aemond's character and what I think would be going on in his head. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. Lots of humiliation, violence and chauvinism. ]
Part 2 − Object of Despair Part 3 − Object of Delight Epilogue
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
______
He thought the greatest humiliation of his life was behind him when he lost an eye, when his brother and nephews gave him a pig instead of a dragon. He thought that now that he was a man, rider of the greatest dragon walking the earth, he would finally get everything he deserved − a wife from a dignified, respected House, and with her an offspring, his inheritance, an extension of his lineage.
He could not hide his expression of disappointment, disgust and bitterness when his mother informed him that instead of one of Lord Baratheon's daughters he would be marrying Lord Arryn's niece − his grandfather, intent on strengthening his brother's position on the throne felt that depriving Rheanyra of the support of the Eyrie, her mother's kin, would greatly weaken her in the ongoing war.
He would have endured this change without a word were it not for one thing.
The woman was a fucking widow.
Already intimate with another man who had taken her maidenhood, she was worn, marked, like an overbitten apple that now someone had to eat to the end to keep it from rotting.
He imagined in the back of his mind how the court, which both feared and mocked him, would spread rumours that the One-Eyed Prince was not only crippled but must marry a woman devoid of value and her greatest virtue, for no other lady would agree to be his wife.
However, he knew what duty was and intended to fulfil it.
Despite his mother's suggestion, he did not want to see her before the nuptial day. He felt that he did not want to further exacerbate her bad enough appearance in his eyes; he feared that she was not only worthless but plain ugly, her mind empty and shallow.
Although the nuptials were to take place in the noble family, knowing that this would not be her first wedding it was decided that the whole ceremony would be modest, only the most loyal lords and relatives who supported their cause were invited.
Looking at his reflection in the mirror in shame and disgust, at his emerald tunic adorned with golden threads swirling in embroidery reminiscent of dragon's heads, he thought it seemed too refined for such an occasion, for such a woman who could offer him nothing.
He knew that there was no fault of hers in her husband's sudden passing from this world, that it was pure politics, but he could not help thinking that it would have been better if she had died with him.
Waiting for her in the Great Sept, he felt nothing − he had not even bestowed a single glance on her when he heard the sound of trumpets, indicating that she and her father had entered the temple and were heading towards him.
As he felt her presence beside him he immediately noticed out of the corner of his eye that she was dressed in a blue gown, flowers of the same colour in her hair − curiosity forced him to at least glance at her and he swallowed loudly as his gaze met her violet eyes.
The colour of the Targaryens.
He froze, feeling his heart suddenly begin to beat faster, unable to look away from her irises, from her long, dark lashes and eyebrows surrounding her eyes like a sky surrounding the sun − unintentionally his gaze studied quickly her entire silhouette and face.
He swallowed with difficulty, turning his head away, realising that her figure was pleasingly girlish, she was young, too young in his eyes to be a widow − her dark hair was tied back, myosotis tucked into her curls at the sides of her head, her gown made of some thin, smooth, shiny material shimmering blue and purple at the same time.
He couldn't focus on what the Septon was saying; he only glanced at her again when Daeron handed him the cloak with which he was to cover her − her gaze fixed on him, her eyebrows arched in sorrow as if she was in pain, her eyes gleaming, slightly reddened, as if she was barely holding back tears.
He felt like asking if she was so disgusted with him, but no sound came out of his mouth.
With a stony face expressing indifference, he threw his cloak embroidered with a three-headed red dragon over her back and then took her hand in his, small and surprisingly smooth.
She didn't look at him when, in a trembling, soft voice, she repeated the words of her vows with him. He tried to remember her doing it for the second time in her life, that she was someone else's, warming someone else's bed, but he couldn't.
She seemed so innocent.
They hadn't exchanged a word during the wedding feast; he watched from the corner of his eye her demeanour, her face − she seemed to him absent, sad, ashamed.
He thought with a squeeze in his throat, filled with jealousy and envy, that she was a beautiful young woman, and someone had her before him.
He took a loud, impatient sip of wine from his cup, its tart, slightly sweet aftertaste spilling over his tongue, dulling his mind.
He felt like his head was going to burst.
They both tried to put it off for as long as they could, however, eventually his mother suggested that his spouse was surely tired and should retire to bed.
He pressed his lips together at her words, rising silently, looking at this strange, frightened girl out of the corner of his eye, her face turned towards him, her eyes open wide in terror.
"Come, wife." He hummed coldly, without emotion and heard her swallow hard − she followed him quietly as he left the hall, heading down the dark torch-lit corridors to his chamber.
He watched indifferently as her servants helped her undress from her beautiful gown, slowly untangling the curls of her hair, one of them wanted to remove the flowers from them, but he protested.
"No. The flowers are to stay. Let at least some semblance of innocence and purity remain." He sneered, saw that the corners of her mouth twitched, her eyebrows arched in pained humiliation.
He cocked his head, intrigued that she endured his words and what was happening with such humility.
He thought that if she behaved like this, perhaps he would take pity on her and actually put his child inside her, so that she could somehow regain her dignity, to be the mother of his heir.
"That's enough." He said at last, when she was left only in her nightgown, from under which he could see the outline of the pleasing shapes of her womanly body, waiting patiently until they were left alone.
She was looking somewhere far away, sad, tired, humiliated, her face, although pale, as if filled with mourning, was smooth and pleasant, the shade of her eyes seemed to him more blue in the firelight.
Proof that they shared ancestors, a common heritage.
For some reason he felt some kind of affection for her at the thought.
He got up from his seat with a loud creak of wood, walking with a slow, lazy step towards her − he saw that she twitched but did not look at him, her lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath, betraying her nervousness.
He walked around her, looking at her as if she were an object, assessing her figure, the shade of her hair, the shape of her face from every angle. She swallowed quietly and lifted her chin, looking at him with some kind of challenge, a decision that she would accept what was about to happen and give him no reason to mock her.
He hummed at the thought, stepping behind her, feeling her flinch all over as she felt his large hands touch her waist and then slide lower, to her womb − he felt surprised, licking his lips with his tongue, that his manhood swelled hard in his breeches when, in some sudden, involuntary reflex, her small hands grabbed his wrists, yet not stopping his movements, just trying to maintain some semblance of control over what was happening.
She let the air out of her lungs nervously, closing her eyes for a moment as his nose sank into her sweet-smelling, smooth hair, his hands stroking her lower abdomen trailing over it in tender, slow movements as if he imagined she was already carrying his child, his reason for being proud and pleased with her.
"This poor man, whose name I can't even remember, died without an heir. Why?" He whispered in her ear, a note of menace in his voice, his fingers digging into the fabric of her nightgown and her stomach, forcing her to take a step back, bumping into his throbbing manhood pushing against her buttocks. He heard her gasp softly, swallowing loudly, her body quivering in his embrace.
"The will of the Gods." She replied softly, her voice melodious, warm, pleasant to his ear. He hummed again, acknowledging her answer, his hands again beginning to stroke her womb in an unhurried, tender gesture.
"Why would I need a wife who won't give me an inheritance? Hm?" He asked in a tone as if he was curious and intrigued − he felt her whole body tense up in fear knowing that he was mocking her.
She drew in air loudly, suddenly tightening her fingers on his arm as his hand slid lower, between her thighs, the tips of his fingers began to brush her there with calm, steady strokes.
His free hand rose higher, to her neck, tightening around it warningly when he felt her buttocks begin to rub against his length, feeling a pleasant wave of heat surge through his spine and lower abdomen. He looked down at his fingers between her thighs, even through the material feeling the moisture leaking through it.
"A wife is a gift. Like a sword, a book or a horse." She cooed softly, responding with a rocking of her hips to the touch of his fingers. He involuntarily chuckled at her words, charmed that she understood exactly his approach, that her mind was not obscured by bottomless female fantasies, but stood in reality.
"Why would I need a chipped sword, an empty book, or a blind horse?" He asked lowly, his hand from her neck moved higher − his fingers cupped her cheeks, forcing her to turn her head towards him, to look at him, her violet eyes misty, bright, beautiful.
She smiled and giggled softly, startling him completely, bringing him out of his thoughts.
"It's amusing to hear you speak about blindness, husband. I hope the lack of your eye doesn't bother you anymore." She whispered with a satisfaction that made him snort in fury − she squealed quietly and closed her eyes as his fingers dug into her cheeks and shook her, as if he wanted her to come to her senses and remember who she was standing in front of.
"You are nothing, whore. Do you understand? Nothing. A worn-out cup to be filled with seed. I don't have an eye, but I do have a fucking dignity that my mother deprived me of by forcing me to marry a creature like you." He hissed, shaking her head violently once in a while, wanting it to get into her little empty head what he had just said.
She looked at him with hatred, her gaze seeming darker, more dangerous to him, her tongue hitting her palate with a quiet click of her saliva as she whispered a single word in his direction.
"Pathetic."
He didn't even know when his hand tightened in her hair, slamming her head against the table that stood in front of them forcing her to lean forward with a violent gesture − she squirmed loudly and cried out, clenching her fingers on the tabletop as she tried to catch her balance − he kicked her ankle with his foot forcing her to spread her thighs wider.
"You like it rough, hm? You find yourself better at being a whore than a wife? Very well then." He growled, his free hand undoing the buckles of his tunic, untying his breeches quickly, releasing his throbbing erection, giving it a few sure squeezes at the base, for some reason what was happening, their quick, rapturous breaths aroused him even more.
"Fucking male pride. Take what you want, you won't break me." She hissed with such hateful envy that he chuckled out loud, somehow impressed by how brazen she was.
"There's a little dragon burning inside you, isn't it? We shall see. I'm a man full of patience." He sneered, lifting her nightgown up in an impatient motion, exposing what was between her thighs, her rosy, puffy folds glistening with her moisture.
She pressed her lips together, struggling to hold back the sound of discomfort as he pushed against her, forcing the fat, pink head of his cock between her tight walls. He sighed heavily, feeling how wonderfully she clenched around him on all sides, hot and surprisingly soft.
"− fuck −" He gasped out, spreading her thighs wider with his leg − she cried out loudly as he sank all the way into her with one sure thrust, her fleshy muscles throbbing againt him in panic.
They both began panting loudly as, in some subconscious, natural reflex, he began to pound into her with the impatient, aggressive stabs of his hips.
"− fucking whore −" He growled angrily, clamping his hand painfully tight on her hair, her mouth parted wide in a helpless moan as he suddenly quickened his pace, looking down, feeling a wonderful thrill of elation at the sight of his manhood opening her slick folds wide again and again with deep, brutal thrusts of his hips.
"− bastard −" She cried out, responding however to the pushes of his hips with a fierceness from which his voice stuck in his throat. He was no longer sure, groaning low with pleasure, feeling the way her walls squeezed him wonderfully, sucking him inside, whether what they were saying was true or just a test of strength and dominance, an attempt to establish who would have the last word.
"− shut the fuck up − to think you still have the strength to babble − shall I put it in your mouth so you'll finally be quiet? −" He snorted through clenched teeth, gripping his free hand over the soft, smooth skin of her firm buttocks, slamming into her like mad.
It seemed to him that they were both moaning and panting too loudly, as if they were in some kind of frenzy, his thighs slapping against her bare skin with a sticky smack again and again, barely sliding out of her.
"− fuck − o-oh fuck, stop −" He gasped out as he felt her muscles suddenly clench greedily against his manhood at his words, intensifying his sensations. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes as he heard sweet, loud moans of fulfillment begin to erupt from her throat, her body trembling all over − she whimpered when he didn't slow down, chasing his own fulfilment.
"− I know − fuck, just a moment longer − shhh −" He hushed her and groaned low, sighing in relief when he felt that wonderful, relaxing feeling, bliss in his mind and whole body, delight as his seed spilled deep inside her, right where it belonged.
His hips rocked inside her a moment longer with her mumble of displeasure, her eyes closed, her breathing ragged, her fingers trailing over the table top as if she couldn't calm down.
"− it's alright − easy − it's alright −" He whispered, panting heavily, stroking her soft hair with slow, tender gesture, her eyebrows arched in pain as she wept loudly, tears one after another began to run down her face.
He wasn't sure if she was crying from relief that she had it behind her or from grief that she had to go through this again.
"− I know − I know −" He hummed, running his fingers over her smooth, dark curls, for some reason feeling the need to reassure her, fulfilled and content after what had happened between them, his half-soft manhood still twitching deep inside her, all slick from their shared moisture.
"− I don't blame you, wife − that man was weak, as was his seed − you will soon bear me a son −"
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell fanfic#dark aemond#dark aemond targaryen#dark aemond smut#dark aemond angst#aemond smut#aemond#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond x oc#aemond x female#aemond x fem!oc#aemond x original character#aemond x original female character#aemond targaryen smut#aemond kinslayer#aemond the kinslayer#aemond angst#aemond targaryen angst#hotd angst#hotd smut#targaryen smut#aemond fanfic
629 notes
·
View notes
Text
broken vessels
pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader
reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used. there's one mention of glasses, but that's the extent of my self indulgence.
summary:
You sit down across from Hannibal. It feels like a surrender. The food is quite good, but that realization isn’t enough to keep your despair at bay. The chain around your ankle fixes you to this room, to this meal, to this man sitting across from you. And he knows it, judging from the smile pulling at his lips.
You had no idea just how drastically your life would change after becoming Hannibal Lecter's therapist.
word count: 7.8k | ao3 version
author's notes: This fic has been rotting in my drafts for too long. The transitions are a bit choppy, but I just had to realize this into the wild. So... yeah.
The focus of this fic is Hannibal Lecter/Reader; there is no explicit romance, but I am a diehard fan of the inherent homoeroticism that is Hannibal Lecter. If you’re looking for a happy ending or romance, you won’t find it here. Also this won't be canon compliant, since Sam and Hannibal are very different. You have been warned!
And if you aren’t familiar with The Patient… Well, you’re in for a wild ride. For now, all you need to know is that the reader is a therapist and Hannibal visits them for a session. (And you should also watch the series when you get the chance, because it's very good.)
warnings: canon-typical violence, depictions of mental illness, suicidal ideation, self-harm, hopelessness, kidnapping, captivity/imprisonment, blood and injury, cannibalism
Hannibal Lecter is an interesting patient. You’re not sure what compels him to come to you one dreary morning, when the sky is muddled with grey and there is nothing but the threat of a storm on the horizon. You just know that your doorbell rings at exactly 10:00 a.m., and you open it to find a fine-dressed man with perfectly coiffed hair and an easy smile on his face. The expression is nothing short of polite, yet you feel as if there is unspeakab;e malice dripping from the corners of his lips. You invite him in and urge him to take a seat wherever he feels comfortable. The man regards the room for a moment, before sitting in the armchair you typically sit in. Unperturbed by the seating change, you move to the couch parallel to your usual chair.
For a while, there is only silence. You get the feeling the man is surveying you, scrutinizing you in his mind’s eye. You watch him and he watches you back. While you’re content to let the silence settle over the room, after a few minutes, you decide to speak up and ask him why he decided to come for a session with you.
The first session doesn’t prove to be entirely eventful, but it rarely is. Since it’s your first interaction, you spend most of the time trying to get to know him better. You learn that the man—Hannibal—was a surgeon and is now a psychiatrist, rather renowned for his research. Idly, you have to wonder how he came across you—and why he’s giving you a chance. Surely Hannibal has access to any of his colleagues, who are distinguished scholars. Maybe he needs a break from that, you then think.
Ultimately, your first session with Hannibal isn’t cause for concern. Your attention instead falls to your third session together, when you begin to realize that he’s being deliberately vague with his answers—and that he seems to favor dishonesty over truthfulness.
“Hannibal,” you remark, your heart thudding steadily in your chest, “I get the sense that you haven’t been quite honest with me.” You feel unreasonably apprehensive, as if this single accusation will ruin the little progress you’ve made with him. Yet, you can’t even call your past two sessions “progress,” can you? You spent the entire time attempting to stay afloat amidst the fluid conversation, feeling somewhat frustrated and confused all the same.
“I’ve been perfectly honest with you,” Hannibal responds. The look on his face is seamlessly calm. You’re nervous, but you continue. Therapy conducted under pretense is pointless, after all. Besides, this man knows what he’s doing. His behavior has been purposeful.
“You haven’t been,” you say, “and I think we both know that.” Hannibal looks at you—really looks at you—for what feels like the first time. His eyes are a glittering maroon and a slight smile rises on his face. Somehow, you can’t shake the inexplicable feeling that you’ve just made a grave misstep.
You continue to recall that third session as you stare up at the ceiling of your bedroom, your vision slowly growing fuzzy. You’re tired, but it’s taking you a while to fall asleep. Your mind is racing, recalling several different moments scattered across your lifetime that you’d rather forget. You try to focus on your breathing and, eventually, your eyes fall shut.
Your dreams are weird—which is saying something, since dreams are usually weird. These particular dreams feel like omens for the future and, if that is the case, then your future can’t be very good. You dream of sharp mirrors, harsh corners, and neatly-carved lines. You dream of an infinite winding labyrinth that you can’t escape from, of a puppet-master watching you stumble through a never-ending maze with amusement, of your tattered visage reflected in the jagged shards of a broken mirror.
You jolt awake with a gasp on your tongue, your throat feeling extremely dry. It takes you a few moments to internalize that you’re awake and no longer dreaming. There’s a cup of water on the bedside table and you reach for it, wincing at how heavy your limbs feel. Eventually, you reach the water and take a sip. The glass is cold against your skin and, when you put it back, you nearly miss your nightstand entirely. That’s a little strange—the nightstand has occupied that position for years. Why would your muscle memory fail you now, all of a sudden?
You swing your legs to the side of the bed, only to hear an ominous rattling sound—almost reminiscent of metal clinking against the ground. You reach down and try to feel your way around in the dark, grabbing your glasses from the nightstand and putting them on. The darkness momentarily sharpens and a sense of foreboding prickles along your skin. Your surroundings look strangely unfamiliar. Unease pulling at your gut, you reach down, down, down—only to find a thick chain secured around your ankle. You tug at it, panic rising in your chest as you realize it’s not coming off. You then push yourself to your feet and walk a few steps, testing how far the chain will go. It doesn’t reach far enough for you to thoroughly explore the unfamiliar space—just barely getting to the small room that looks to be a bathroom. Upon further investigation, there’s nothing in the bathroom that would help you get the chain off. The toothbrush and disposable toothpaste resting inconspicuously on the counter throw you off guard. Was this planned? It’s abundantly clear to you now that you’ve been kidnapped. Did your captor plan this out and configure this bathroom for a captive?
You manage to convince yourself to move back out to the main room, only to find a meal placed on the small plastic table situated past the end of the bed. You don’t recognize the food and, frankly, you don’t want to know what it is. The thought of food right now is enough to make you nearly throw up. You instead decide to continue testing how far you can move with your chain. It turns out you can’t move very far at all: you only have access to the bed, the nightstands, and the nearby bathroom. There are a set of glass doors across from the bed and hints of the morning sun illuminate the room in a hazy glow, revealing polished furniture and elegant decorations. It seems your captor has rather distinguished tastes.
In hindsight, seeing Hannibal Lecter come down the stairs moments later is more of a shock than it should be. Your eyes widen and you blink a few times, convinced your mind is conjuring illusions. Hannibal stares at you in return, before sending you a small smile—as if sharing an inside joke.
Meanwhile, you’re panicking. There’s a good chance Hannibal is the one who trapped you here. “Hey, where am I?” You ask apprehensively. Seeing Hannibal simultaneously provokes relief and dread within you. You tug at the chain on your ankle, but it doesn’t budge. “Hannibal? Why am I here?” “This is my home,” Hannibal answers. You feel your heart drop to your stomach. It was a foolish thought to think Hannibal would be here by mere coincidence, but it kept your hopes alive. Now, you’re left to the bleak despair that clings to your ankle like a vice. “I need to speak with you.”
It takes you a few seconds to comprehend that statement, in the wake of all the thoughts running through your mind. “You could’ve called me to book an appointment,” you eventually point out, struggling to keep yourself calm. You’re trapped here, and the chain on your ankle is extremely thick and sturdy. Not to mention, you can’t reach the door; you don’t have your phone; and you have a bad feeling Hannibal is the sole occupant of this house. How on earth will you escape?
“This is… an ongoing concern,” Hannibal interjects. It takes you a few moments to process that statement. Then, at your disbelieving look, he continues. “Our typical environment was not suitable.”
“Not suitable?” Panic is beginning to seep through your voice. You know you should probably be maintaining your composure, but it’s rather difficult to do so when you’re faced with the inevitability of your captivity. “What part of this environment is suitable? I have a chain around my ankle and I can’t leave!” You try to take a deep breath and manifest a level of composure that you certainly don’t have at the present moment. You look eyes with him and attempt to get through to him. “Hannibal. Take this chain off my ankle.”
You don’t expect your attempt at persuasion to work and, indeed, Hannibal is silent. He regards you for a moment before stepping forward, momentarily fooling you into thinking he may genuinely release you. Then, he takes another step and pulls a chair out from the table to take a seat. He motions for you to take the other seat. You shake your head and remain on the bed, opting to keep as much distance from Hannibal as possible. Unfortunately, it still doesn’t feel like enough—as his eyes pin you in place.
You’re not sure how long you spend trapped in your spiraling thoughts, before you attempt to speak to your captor again. “Hannibal,” you say, trying to maintain your composure. You’re grasping at the sheets of the bed with shaking hands. “Whatever you have to talk about, I am willing to listen to you. But not like this.”
There’s a beat of silence. You aren’t deluded enough to think this conversation is getting you any closer to an escape. Instead, Hannibal regards you for a moment, clasping his hands on the table. He holds his utensils in a strangely tight grip, as if they’re weapons. The knife makes you particularly nervous, but it pales in comparison to his next statement. “You would be legally required to share the information I divulge.” Therapists have a firm code of ethics, which dictates that information must be brought to the local authorities if it involves harm to oneself or others. The thought makes an ugly feeling stew in your stomach. You inhale slowly.
“This is your last chance,” you warn, despite knowing you have no power in this situation. “Let me go, and I’ll pretend this never happened. We can go back to the way things were. I won’t press charges or anything. Okay?” You think that’s a pretty generous offer, all things considered.
For a moment, the air is entirely still. Then, the expression on Hannibal’s face flickers. “Would you like something to eat?” he eventually responds.
You stare at him in disbelief. It seems you underestimated Hannibal and his cruelty. Your tongue feels ironed to the roof of your mouth, and you take a deep breath before shaking your head silently. You move back on the bed, your back finding the headboard. You pull your knees up and rest your arms, clasping your hands and closing your eyes. Maybe, if you keep your eyes closed for long enough, this scenario will simply… disappear.
Hannibal takes a bite of his food, ignorant of your internal conflict. The small clinks of his silverware against the plate are the only noises in the otherwise tense air. Even when Hannibal’s gaze is focused on something else, you feel as if he’s watching you. You don’t dare to move a single muscle. There’s an uncomfortable silence settling in the air.
“I met with many different therapists,” Hannibal remarks, apropos of nothing. He levels you with a scrutinizing gaze. You blink and you see your head on his dinner plate. You shake off the grotesque thought. “I chose you.” Is that supposed to make you feel better? It only makes you feel more uneasy.
After some time eating silently, Hannibal gets up from his seat and takes his empty plate. You watch as he steps towards the hallway from which he came—leaving you suspicious and wary as you wait for something to happen. In the time after his departure, you’re still tense. Will he be back soon? You’re not sure how long you sit there, dreading his return.
Eventually, after what must be at least two hours, you conclude that Hannibal won’t be returning. You decide to lie down, curling up on your side. Perhaps if you close your eyes, you’ll wake up from this nightmare.
…But the universe isn’t that merciful, and you wake up hours later with a helplessness that clings to your skin. This wasn’t some twisted nightmare—it’s reality. And your reality is inescapable. You’re a bird with clipped wings, trapped in a gilded cage.
Hannibal visits in the middle of the day. Your eyes follow him the moment he enters the room; as if recognizing this, he seems to take delight in moving as agonizingly slow as possible. Despite the deliberate slow pace to his movements, you recognize the show for what it is. Hannibal is a predator on the prowl. You are his prey, left baring your bleeding flesh before a salivating maw.
It’s not helpful to think about what you could have done instead of pushing him to be honest. But you think about it anyway. If you had let him have his lies, his understanding but strained smiles… what would have happened? The self-defeating part of you wants to say he would’ve left you alone, but you know that’s a desperate thought. No. Somehow, you piqued Hannibal’s interest from the moment you found him on your doorstep.
Realistically speaking, he could’ve been watching you long before that. You’re not sure if he’s the type to stalk people; then again, you didn’t characterize him as the kidnapping type at first, and look where you are now. The thought drags a wry laugh from your lips, inadvertently drawing Hannibal’s attention towards you. He motions for you to join him at the table, where he’s prepared some sort of meal. Despite your growling stomach, you refuse the offer. Hannibal only raises a brow, as if he sees your fleeting attempt at resistance and views it to be a waste of time. Your refusal does give you an illusion of control. You feel as if you have power—however slight—over this situation.
You don’t think you’ll cave so quickly, but by the time he returns that night with a late dinner, you’re fighting off the instinct to join him at the table. As if recognizing this, Hannibal stares at you with twinkling eyes. You grit your teeth. Unfortunately, you don’t really have a choice anymore. If you want to navigate his mind games, you need to be completely focused. Your hunger and aching stomach can’t serve as distractions.
You sit down across from him. It feels like a surrender. The food is quite good, but that realization isn’t enough to keep your despair at bay. The chain around your ankle fixes you to this room, to this meal, to this man sitting across from you. And he knows it.
As you’re eating, you realize you’ve been given a knife. You frown and look at the meal before you. There’s meat on Hannibal’s plate, but not on yours. Why were you given a knife, if you didn’t need one? Initially, you want to think it’s just a mistake. But you don’t think your captor would overlook something like that. Nearly every action of Hannibal's so far has been purposeful, even if that purpose was beyond your understanding. It’s very hard to believe that the knife is a simple oversight.
But the knife’s purpose doesn’t really matter. All that matters is that you have a weapon. Hannibal is well within striking range, since the table you’re eating at is rather small. You could easily reach out and stab him in the hand, but then what…? You would still have the chain on your ankle. If you dealt him a powerful blow, you could incapacitate him at the very least. You’re not familiar with knives, though, so an attempt to incapacitate him could quickly become a murder. That’s a risk you think you’re going to have to take. You’re not sure when you’ll have another opportunity like this.
You reach out and take both your fork and knife, pretending you’re going to cross them on your plate to signal that you’re finished with the meal. Your hand doesn’t want to relinquish its awkward grip on the knife, though. Something about the blade’s steady pressure against your palm is grounding. You realize you’re drawing blood when droplets fall to mark the wooden table. Hannibal’s eyes follow the movement, as if he actually heard the sound of your blood hitting the surface of the table. He’s momentarily distracted.
So you strike.
At least, you try to. When his attention is captured, you slide your grip down to the handle of the knife, winding back and aiming at his neck. But Hannibal is inhumanly fast, and he quickly grabs your wrist with bruising strength until the utensil clatters back to its place on the table. Your eyes meet and you see only raw, unadulterated fury. A shiver crawls down your spine as a bone-deep fear settles past your skin. You’re going to die.
Seconds drag on and, while Hannibal is still holding your wrist, the strength of his grip slowly fades. The silence is almost more painful than the white-hot irritation of the gash on your palm. With bated breath, you watch as Hannibal lets your wrist fall. Dread churning in your stomach, you’re frozen as he leaves the room. Terror stews in your chest at the anticipation he’s leaving you in. What weapon will he choose to end your life?
Hannibal returns moments later with a clear container. You bite the inside of your cheek and watch silently as he approaches you, setting the bin on the table before taking your wrist and studying the minor gash on your palm. Something close to disapproval passes over his face for a quick second, before it’s replaced with a clinical gaze.
Your hand is trembling ever so slightly. If Hannibal notices, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he obtains ointment from the container of medical supplies and spreads it along your scrape—before wrapping a bandage around your hand and wrist. His movements are precise and practiced; even if you were unaware of his background, you’d know he had experience as a medical practitioner.
“Don’t try that again.” His voice is deceptively light; you don’t need to look far to see the anger coiled in his tight shoulders. You nod silently, your throat burning as you’re overcome with your own helplessness. With that, he walks back to the table, collects the dishes, and leaves the room. You stare down at your newly-bandaged hand, a renewed anguish promptly replacing any hope for escape. That attempt just now was a colossal failure. You didn’t think you were too obvious about your intentions, but he had reacted as if he expected you to stab him. Maybe that knife was placed there purposefully. Maybe, for reasons beyond your current comprehension, Hannibal wanted you to threaten his life.
You really don’t know what to do with that information. You settle for reclining on the mattress and closing your eyes, still fighting off that foolish hope that you’ll wake sweat-soaked in your own bedroom, breathing hard from the fictitious nightmare you just experienced.
Not much is born from your failure to escape, save for a few things: 1) a downgrade to plastic silverware, which makes you laugh in hysterical defeat; 2) pervasive hopelessness; and 3) a need for a new coping mechanism. Planning to escape no longer seems like a productive use of your time—trying to create something out of nothing is just insanity. Instead of maniacally going through every physically possible way to escape—a list which currently has zero items on it—you find yourself meditating.
You were never the meditative type; you had many therapists who told you to meditate on your problems, and you promised yourself that you would never give that kind of advice to your patients. Mindfulness itself isn’t a bad suggestion, but the suggestion of meditation—crossed legs, pinched fingers—always felt like a slap in the face.
You were so desperate once that you gave it a try. Predictably, your skeptical nature prevented it from actually working. But, ironically, when you tried it again a few days later, you found that you were able to compartmentalize your thoughts better. It didn’t necessarily make you feel calm in the way everyone claimed it did, but meditation helped you sort out the seemingly infinite tangle of problems in your mental cobweb. And if that cobweb was tangled before, it’s an absolute wreck now. Trapped in a man’s basement with no means of escape is a never-ending fountain of dread, regret, fear, and stress.
At first, you just try to count to large numbers in your head. It helps you pass the time, in a room with no other form of entertainment. You slowly work your way up to tackling actual thoughts from there, and you find that, with time, you’re able to suppress unwanted feelings slightly. It’s nothing ground-breaking. But coping with your situation is one hell of a difficult task, so you’re proud of yourself for making any progress at all.
This meditation becomes somewhat of a routine. You find yourself retreating into the depths of your mind at least once a day, if not two or three times. It’s a welcome escape from the unfamiliar room around you. Everything fades away, until you’re submerged in an endless void. Memories flicker before your eyes in brief flashes of light, visible but intangible.
This meditation has one flaw: it leaves you entirely unguarded and defenseless. You were preoccupied with this notion during your first few attempts, but after you returned to the empty room each time, you began to forget your fear. But losing that fear made you complacent. You soon found yourself entirely ignoring the room around you—ignoring footsteps, ignoring shadows passing across the walls. While you often returned to reality to find yourself alone… that wasn’t always the case.
When you’re finished with meditation one night, you open your eyes to find Hannibal standing in front of you. You immediately flinch and suck in a startled breath, nearly falling backwards on the bed as you create more distance between the two of you. It doesn’t take much contemplation to understand what he’s doing here. He was watching you, observing you. You never noticed him cross the threshold of the doorway; you didn’t notice him approach you with intrigue in his eyes as he regarded your vulnerable form. You were lost in the workings of your mind palace, your eyes closed and hands clasped in your lap.
“Hannibal,” you say, when you regain the ability to speak. “You scared me.” That’s an understatement. Your heart is positively racing in your chest. Hannibal has that damned smirk on his face, suggesting that your terror only amuses him. You grit your teeth and pretend not to notice the satisfaction practically radiating off of him.
He finally stops looming over you, turning on his heel and walking over to the table. When he takes a seat, he immediately looks at you expectantly. “Take a seat,” Hannibal verbalizes, when a few seconds pass and you don’t make a move.
You do as requested, albeit with a lot of restless fidgeting. Whenever the two of you sit at the table and there isn’t any food, you know a therapy session is beginning. Admittedly, your interactions so far barely qualify as sessions—Hannibal has still been frustratingly vague with what he’s experiencing, leaving you with virtually nothing to give to him in return.
This session is nothing new. His ambiguity is still infuriating, but you find yourself grappling with a newer impatience. When it becomes clear that the conversation isn’t going anywhere, you hear yourself speaking. “I thought we promised to be honest with one another.” You wait with bated breath. Hannibal looks tightly coiled, as if ready to strike at any moment. But he remains silent, which pushes you to continue. “You’re still not being honest with me.”
“Very well,” Hannibal nods. You both know it’s true. Hannibal has only spoken of ambiguous urges that nearly consume him. These urges are evidently negative and almost mirror compulsions. However, from what you’ve seen of Hannibal so far, he has finely-regulated emotional control. Is he really a victim to these negative urges, or is he their puppetmaster? Your instincts gravitate towards the latter, but you aren’t prepared for the verbal confirmation he gives you. “I am a serial killer and a cannibal.”
You immediately scrutinize him, looking for the signs you’ve grown to attribute to dishonesty. But there is only unapologetic candor… and an almost boundless hunger. You loathe how quick you are to believe such an outlandish statement. But, in the wake of your captivity, you’ve grown somewhat used to outlandishness. After all, Hannibal went so far as to kidnap you indefinitely—it’s been abundantly clear since you woke in this room that he is not a good person. His thinly-veiled fury has always been present—it is only now that you are able to attribute it to something.
Your gaze is then unwittingly pulled down, past his neatly-ironed suit and to the wooden table before you. You think back to all the meals you’ve been fed and you look back up at him, unable to hide your fear and revulsion. “Have you…?” You’re at a loss for words.
“I have not fed you anything untoward,” Hannibal answers. You’re briefly grateful, before you chastise yourself for the emotion. Why are you grateful to your captor for showing you the smallest of mercies? You are still trapped here. You have been shown the most basic of human decencies: food and water. Privacy and safety are distant memories, at this point.
“You’re a serial killer and a cannibal,” you hear yourself repeat. Your voice sounds foreign and unrecognizable, in the wake of this horrifying revelation. “That’s…” You choke out, entirely unsure of what to say.
Hannibal tries to keep talking, but you place your hands on the table and get to your feet. The chain on your ankle clinks menacingly as you move away from the table and towards the bed. You know better to turn your back on the man, so you instead perform an awkward side-shuffle until you’re seated on the bed. Hannibal finishes his meal in silence and leaves you alone in the basement. You break down soon after.
Each time you blink, you see eyes glazed over in death; limbs stiff and unfeeling; lips parted but unbreathing. Every morning, you’re brutally torn from your sleep and forced to wake up in a nightmare. You are rotting behind these nondescript walls and no one has seemed to notice. What of your family and friends? Where are they now? Is anyone looking for you, or have you been banished to the uncompromising soil and cold headstones in a barren field?
You haven’t caught even a trace of happiness throughout your captivity here. Fear, unease, and desperation have forced you into compliance. There’s a constant burning sensation in your throat and behind your eyes, as you mourn for the tragedies of tomorrow. Your life here is dictated by Hannibal’s whims. And, worst of all, your death is completely inevitable. You have no sense of the passage of time, yet the threat of your end seems to come ever closer with each passing moment.
There are only so many mind games you can subject yourself to before you have to face the grim reality: you are trapped here, and you likely will be trapped here for the remainder of your life. Whether that’s several weeks, eight months, or a few years… You will be confined here until Hannibal grows disinterested. Whatever the source of his interest, one thing is certain: this intrigue persuades him to spare you. But, as patient as Hannibal seems to be, you know it will only be a matter of time before he snaps.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, you can hear your own bones cracking and snapping under his grip. Sometimes, in the light of day, you can see bright patrol lights reaching out to you through the screen door, beckoning you back to your life. But none of it is real. Nothing is tangible, save for the chain suffocating your ankle and the fear that keeps you from acting out or attempting to escape again.
In light of Hannibal’s confession, you feel… empty. A part of you is almost hopeful—even desperate—for an end to your confinement. That part of you longs to test the limits of Hannibal’s patience, in the hopes of breaking it and triggering the final chapter of your life.
Safe to say, you aren’t sure what to do with yourself anymore. Everything feels completely pointless. You’re just waking up to fall asleep again the next night; eating to put off the gnawing feeling in your stomach; living to die. Each day simultaneously feels like a victory and a defeat.
One question still begs your attention: why are you here? In your first session, Hannibal had maintained the illusion that he wanted to get better. The same can’t be said anymore: he shows no regret for the things he’s done. There isn’t even a hint of remorse in his answers to your questions, which only confuses you more. He does not want to improve.
One particular morning, you decide to ask him. After all, you have virtually nothing left to lose. You would welcome an escape from this situation—any violence from him would only provide a merciful end to your suffering. “Why are you still entertaining all of this?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. Hannibal is entirely static as he stares at you, no hint of emotion in his eyes. You can only imagine what he’s thinking. “You don’t want to get better. You show no remorse for your victims. Therapy is conducted under the pretense that the client wants something. As you’re aware, that is often support, self-actualization, or even just someone to listen to them… What do you want?”
“I’m glad I chose you,” Hannibal says, his eyes glimmering.
“You haven’t answered my question,” you frown.
“Company,” he answers.
You study him for a long moment. “Do you feel unsatisfied with your current attachments?” You ask, squinting at him. “You once told me you host dinner parties frequently. You’ve never expressed difficulties with making friends, but you also never speak about the ones you do have.” You wouldn’t be surprised if Hannibal didn’t have any friends—he doesn’t seem the type.
“Perhaps I think them to be beneath me,” he remarks casually.
“Sure,” you say. That sounds about right, but you know things are rarely so simple and straightforward. “But then how do you fulfill your basic interpersonal needs? Are you constantly pretending?” You push.
His silence is enough of an answer. Something ugly stews in your chest. You hate that you’re entertaining this—that you’re even pretending this man is redeemable. Yet what other choice do you have? When it comes down to it, you don’t want to die in this basement. You’ll do whatever it takes to ensure you escape that fate. Even if that means asking questions that you really don’t want the answers to. Somehow, you manage to push the off-putting words from your lips. “How do you choose your victims?”
Hannibal raises his brows, evidently surprised that you asked. He almost looks impressed. The recognition nauseates you: why are you so desperate for his approval? “I exchange business cards with people I meet,” Hannibal responds. That uneasy feeling is only increasing, continuing to prickle along your skin. “The cards of those who are particularly rude… are set aside.”
You force yourself to maintain some semblance of composure, even if you know the effort will be obvious. “And then?” Your voice is deceptively light, despite your pulse practically thrumming with uneasy anticipation. “What pushes you to make a move?”
“Anger,” he answers. His eyes gleam a foreboding crimson in the dim light of the basement. Every nerve in your body is screaming at you to stop talking, yet you continue relentlessly.
“No,” you immediately argue before you can stop yourself. “It’s not anger.” Hannibal raises a brow, challenging you to provide a better explanation.
You pause to review everything you’ve learned about Hannibal so far. His secretive, elusive nature suggests that he isn’t killing for attention or pride. Sure, anger could be a motivator, but above that… “It’s boredom,” you realize aloud. “You’re bored. Very little interests you, especially when you have so few genuine relationships. Killing actually makes you feel something—an emotion you’re unable to find elsewhere.”
You’re gripping the arms of your chair hard enough to send bolts of pain sliding through your fingers. One wrong move and he could lash out at you, ending your escape attempt before it can even truly begin. “Try as you might to replicate that feeling… You can’t.”
You’re not sure what reaction you’re expecting. Yet you’re still shocked to see Hannibal smile—a twisted, malicious thing that tears your breath from your chest. You’re immediately overcome with the inexplicable conviction that you’ve just supplied the last nail in your own coffin.
“My whole life, I have been thinking…. thinking… trying to figure myself out so I can help other people understand themselves.” You say some time later, staring up at the ceiling. Your fingers twitch restlessly in the plush brown armchair you find yourself sitting in. The room is warmly lit, with bookshelves lining the walls. Across from you sits your old therapist. “And here I am,” you continue wryly, “Talking to my dead therapist.”
There’s a healthy glow to Charlie’s warm brown skin; he looks entirely at ease. “Why do you think that is?” He asks. Irritation floods through you. Charlie is just a figment of your imagination—a device your mind is using to attempt to cope with the trauma of this situation. But even this manifestation of Charlie is unrelenting, just as he once was.
“Come on, Charlie,” you groan. His expression says, Humor me. You take a slow breath. A thump from upstairs draws you to look up at the ceiling, before you’re returning your eyes to Charlie and the space around him. “Fine. I was kidnapped by a serial killer and I have no chance of escape. No one is going to find me and I’m going to rot down here.”
Speaking on your thoughts ushers in a new sense of finality and it’s greatly unsettling. Charlie, on the other hand, is entirely unaffected. Whether that’s because he’s already dead or simply because he has a firm handle on his emotions, you’re unsure.
You’re not sure how long you spend falling apart on that armchair, nor how long it takes for you to pull yourself back together. All you know is this unfamiliar feeling that tugs you back up above the roaring waves, pushing you to try again when all feels pointless. “I can’t die here,” you announce. The words linger in the air long after you utter them.
“So don’t,” Charlie replies simply.
“I wish it were that easy,” you breathe. Faint traces of voices break you from your reverie and you stare at the basement wall intensely, before abandoning the gesture moments later when nothing happens. You look back at Charlie, whose eyes snap back to you as if he was also distracted by the sound. “Hannibal… He’s too perceptive. It won’t work.” You’re forced to think back to the rapidity with which he disarmed you.
You sense what Charlie’s going to say before he says it. “You don’t know that unless you try.”
“There’s no point,” you sigh frustratedly.
“How long will you perpetuate this cycle?” Charlie asks, a worried frown on his face. “You give yourself hope, only to take it away again. You are the one in control here.”
That’s not true. You’re not in control—Hannibal is the puppet master. But you suppose your therapist is correct, in a sense: your emotions are your own. “Fine,” you acquiesce. “I need to put an end to this. I can’t be trapped down here for the rest of my life. I need to try, at the very least.”
Somehow, the placating smile on Charlie’s face still looks smug. You put it down to your imagination. “What are your options, then?” He questions.
“Well…” You trail off. “I could fashion a weapon out of something in the room. But I’ve been downgraded to plastic silverware since the fork incident…”
“I could also try to reason with him. That definitely wouldn’t work, because he’s already convinced and can’t be persuaded. Hannibal shows no remorse for his actions and he will likely spend the rest of his life killing.”
You find yourself faced with the same troubling conclusion that has provoked your inaction. “I have no power, no authority in this situation.” It doesn’t take long for the reality of the situation to set in once more. “He’s not trying to get better.” Only in the depths of your mind, before your conjured visage of Charlie, does your voice betray the defeat you feel.
“But he brought you here,” Charlie reminds you. You tap your fingers restlessly against the arm of the chair. “He must’ve taken you for a reason, even if it wasn’t for you to help him. What do you think that reason is?” He prompts.
“He’s…” You break off. “He enjoys being in control and exerting authority.” That explanation sounds flimsy, even to you. The truth of the matter is staring you in the face, but you’re too unsettled to acknowledge it.
“You’re grossly underestimating your value,” Charlie hums, perceptive as always. “You are valuable to him.” You’re unwittingly reminded of his gentle touch as he bandaged your palm; the intensity with which he gazes at you (especially when he thinks you don’t notice). You can deny it no longer.
“Somehow, I interest him.” You say. Charlie nods; you’re on the right track. Something pushes you to shake your head and abandon that thought process. Inexplicably, you know you won’t like what you find there if you push any further.
“I need to focus on how to get out of here,” you announce. Charlie arches a brow, but gracefully allows you to change the subject. Yet the unspoken sentiment adds a tension to the air that wasn’t present previously. You both know just how far Hannibal’s intrigue goes, yet you’re not comfortable with addressing it.
“You’ve looked around the room,” Charlie then prompts.
“Many times,” you acquiesce. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look again. There are two padlocks—one on the bedpost and one on the chain around my ankle. The lock on the chain could be picked with a pin. I doubt he has a pin lying around, but a nail or something like that could work…”
Charlie nods approvingly. You roll your eyes and willingly retreat from your mind palace, returning to the room around you with renewed resolve. That resolve slowly wanes when you don’t find anything in the main room. But when you walk into the bathroom, you realize there’s a landscape painting on the wall. It must be secured with a nail. Surely enough, when you remove it from the wall, a single nail is left behind. It looks bent already, but it’ll have to do. Studying the room, you decide to stuff the painting in the cabinets beneath the sink. You’ve never seen Hannibal use this bathroom and you’ll have to trust that assumption. Hope brews in your chest, but you can’t quite bring yourself to trust it.
When you leave the bathroom and enter the basement, you sit on the bed in silence—waiting for Hannibal to stalk in and thwart your escape attempts. After an immeasurable amount of time spent holding your breath, you manage to convince yourself to work on the padlock around your ankle. The nail you found is rigid and uncompromising, which forces you to exert an unnecessary amount of strength to manipulate it into a suitable shape.
The chain is rattling ever so slightly as you attempt to free yourself from it. Your breathing is extremely loud in your ears and you’re frantically fighting off the growing potential for Hannibal to walk in and catch you in the middle of the act. Your heart is thudding steadily and quickly in your chest. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You’ve waited for this chance and you’re not going to blow it. Your fingers calloused and throbbing, you firmly maneuver the nail and the padlock finally pops open. You place it on the bed gently, before shakily taking off the manacle. Your ankle is bruised and irritated, but it’s not broken and you don’t feel too much pain. After a moment, you decide to hide the padlock under the comforter. It doesn’t really matter if you hide it—Hannibal will notice your absence regardless.
You take a deep breath and get off the bed, stealthily walking towards the glass doors at the other side of the room. You’ve been staring through them for so long now, but you were never able to get close enough to open them—let alone see your surroundings. Now, you find that it’s afternoon—as the sun casts a warm glow on the sky. You slide the lock of the door and pull up on the interior pin, before gently sliding it. Of course, the door catches on the track and shudders—but you manage to put it back as quietly as you can.
Your shoes finally meet the pavement and you’re free. You’re actually free.
You take a deep breath of fresh air and survey your surroundings, only to see a never ending expanse of trees on all sides. You’re in the middle of the woods.
Fuck.
You had a clear plan in your mind: escape the house, run down the populated street, and find the nearest approachable stranger to ask for help. The second step of your plan has already failed: there is no street or neighborhood—only forest as far as the eye can see. It takes everything you have not to fall to your knees and cry. Crying won’t do you any good.
At first, you take silent, measured steps away from the house—afraid to make any sound. As the house shrinks in the distance, however, you break into a jog and, eventually, a full-out sprint. You don’t know where you’re going—you just hope to put as much distance between Hannibal and you as possible. (Of course, it’s likely that he knows these woods a lot better than you do. That’s only another reason to prioritize speed over getting your bearings.)
In hindsight, you wish you had attempted to sneak upstairs and steal something from his house: a wallet, a phone, a weapon, anything. But you just couldn’t risk it. Not to mention… you had banked on finding yourself in a cookie-cutter neighborhood, not in the middle of nowhere.
You’re not sure how long you’re running. You don’t stop until your legs threaten to give out. Then, you brace yourself against a tree and try to catch your breath for a few minutes. The pain in your chest fading and your breath restored, you remove your hand from the tree and stand upright—only to see a figure a short distance from you. You squint and try to make it out. For a moment, it’s stationary and you’re fooled into thinking it’s an object. Then it moves, and you’re forced to come to a nauseating conclusion: Hannibal followed you.
“No,” you say. “No, no, no, no.” Your shoe slides back as you step backwards, leaves and sticks crunching under your feet. You’re hardly able to believe your eyes—frozen in fear as Hannibal strides towards you. Your survival instincts don’t kick in until he’s far closer, and you immediately whip around and run.
You don’t get far before he’s tackling you to the ground. The sharp edges of his body press into you and you try to throw him off, bucking underneath him. His grip is insistent and he stares down at you with a blank expression. You manage to pull your knee up far enough to hit him, causing his grip to slacken and giving you an outlet of escape. You shove him off of you and kick at his side, but he manages to maneuver to the side and dodge.
Something at his side catches the light. He’s holding a knife. You’re holding your hands out in front of you, as if that will somehow stop the killer in front of you from making you another victim. With blinding speed, Hannibal is lunging towards you and sinking the knife into your thigh. You scream and manage to push him away, though your attempt at disarming him is futile. You immediately clamp a hand against your bleeding leg, gritting your teeth as stars pass across your vision. Hannibal continues his pursuit, forcing you to stumble backwards.
“Hannibal,” you choke out, your voice thick. You think you taste blood in your mouth—probably from biting the inside of your cheek too hard. There is almost no emotion in Hannibal’s eyes, save for one confusing one: betrayal. Did he expect you to stay? “Please.” What are you begging for? Do you want mercy, or do you want an end to this madness?
Either way, Hannibal extends his hand towards you. You’re shaking, blood dripping from your lip as you stare at him. The gesture is a peace offering of sorts: come willingly, and I won’t hurt you, he’s trying to say. You’re not so easily fooled. You never had a choice.
You still shake your head, a pained whimper wrenching its way out of your lips. You instinctively step backwards. In the blink of an eye, the world is spinning around you and you’re falling to the forest floor. (If a tree falls in a forest with no one to hear it, does it make a sound?) You blink dazedly, your vision slowly blurring. Leaves crunch near your cheek as Hannibal draws ever closer. You try to reach out a hand to resist, but you can only twitch for moments before your eyes are slipping shut.
When you can finally fight off the exhaustion seeping into your form, you blink past dry eyes and stare up at an achingly familiar ceiling. You push yourself up weakly, only to find yourself in Hannibal’s basement once more. There’s a sturdier chain around your ankle, and a new, bulkier padlock securing the chain. All you can hear is your ragged breathing and the awful ringing in your ears. Taking a shuddering breath, you bury your head in your hands.
endnotes: Here's some dialogue I couldn’t find a place for:
“I don’t particularly care.” “That doesn’t sound like you,” Hannibal responds. “You don’t know me,” you feel the need to remind him. “And I haven’t felt like myself in quite some time.”
Hannibal's boujee ass definitely has a state of the art security system in his home… Methinks the reader triggered the alarm system in their escape and it sent Hannibal's phone a notification…
thanks for reading!
check out my other works, sorted by fandom.
friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!
hannibal enthusiasts: @its-ares @tobbotobbs @xrisdoesntexist @gr1mmac3 @tiredstarcerberuslamb @yourlocalratwriter @kingkoku @kahuunknown @atlas-king1 @pendragon-writes @slipknotcentury @cryinersaved @the-ultimate-librarian @starre-eyes @pendragon-writes @peterparkeeperer @gayschlatt69 @flow33didontsmoke @mrgatotortuga @house-of-1000-corpses-fan
#defectivevillain#Hannibal Lecter x reader#hannibal x reader#hannibal nbc#hannibal x gn reader#hannibal x male reader#hannibal x transmasc reader#gn reader#male reader#nb reader#transmasc reader
238 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii!
I love your work and I was wondering if I could request platonic Baul and Sebek with an oc insert, Alcestris? (oc info x (the second one) & x that is adoptive family (Baul's daughter and Sebek's aunt but it can go in sibling reader)
If not I'll just ask for a simple reader <33
If you need any more info on the oc just tell me ^^
Baul Zigvolt Adopting The Fae! Reader
Characters: Baul and Sebek Zigvolt (separate) Requester: @althea-and-alcestris A/N: I decided to just do a plain reader, also this is most definitely not my best piece, but I tried my best with the info given. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of abandonment and war ⚠️ (P.S: The Reader is themed after the Tundra Fey from Maleficent: Mistress of Evil)
╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗
╚═════ Baul Zigvolt ════════════════════════════╝
🐊 It was a mere few months after the Human and Fae war had ended, and it was obvious that, despite what the elder had said, Baul was traumatized from the constant bloodshed
🐊 Ever since it ended, he had begun taking small walks in the woods nearby to calm himself down from the memories of losing the young and old. From his childhood friends to even the ones that barely scraped 150 years old
🐊 During one of these late walks, he heard the cracking and squashes of sticks and wet leaves coming from ahead of him. And, in true warrior fashion, he gripped his weapon and stalked his way towards the noise silently
"I'm so sorry, my baby..." A female's voice said through the trees as the Fae came closer.
"Who goes there?!" He yelled, making the woman stand abruptly and begin running away as fast as her speed and legs could take her.
🐊 Baul began to run after her, but stopped when the curiosity of what she left there took over. So, he turned around and sprinted back to where she once kneeled. And when he looked down, he was shocked
🐊 A young Fae was there, wrapped up in a tiny periwinkle-colored blanket, it was fairly faded with your bright colors. Your small white and black horns were a tell-tale sign of your heritage, but what was more of a sore thumb was your high-levels of paleness, you were far brighter toned than other Faes nearby
🐊 You had to be a Tundra Fae, which was odd. That sub-species was very hard to come across, since they were seen to make up a large section of most first-fighting armies, meaning they passed far faster than other kinds
🐊 Baul kneeled down and looked at you with a glossing of despair in his eyes, who in the name of Twisted Wonderland would leave such a vulnerable Fae, nonetheless one that couldn't be that much older than a few years. Perhaps around a few months in human terms
🐊 Instead of leaving the youngling in the woods or leaving it at the nearby orphanage, Baul looked into the tiny (E/C) eyes that faded into black and smiled gently. You reminded him of his daughter when she was a baby, with such innocence in her eyes. Maybe raising another wouldn't be so bad...
╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗
╚═════ Sebek Zigvolt ═══════════════════════════╝
⚡ Sebek has admired you for the 16 years that he has been alive. From the way you defended your family if offended in any way to the way you seemingly got along with everyone that you met, it was all just amazing to witness
⚡ He hates himself for his human half, so having a family member that can sit by his side and speak of how they felt knowing that they were far from related to the people once considered family, it was nice to know that not only he felt like the oddball in the family to his Grandfather
⚡ Speaking of his Grandfather, as his adoptive child, you were held in very high regards by others. From his now-deceased wife, to his biological daughter, her human-husband, and their shared children, you were always beloved. Especially when he had first brought you home all those years ago
⚡ You were also fairly young for Fae, reaching at 170 years old. In human terms, you would be around 17. With such youth, you grew up being babysat by your older sister and father's best friend, Lilia Vanrouge, who adored you to pieces
⚡ Since you were so young, Sebek, whom was your technical nephew, was shocked to see just how close you got to his 'Wakasama'. It was not like he was to yell at you like he did others, you were his family, nonetheless his aunt/uncle, he respected you highly
⚡ But, every time he saw you laugh freely with Malleus, he couldn't help but wonder if you did have some kind of special bone with the future ruler of Briar Valley
⚡ As you grew up and helped raise Sebek well, you understood how he thought far better than other people in your family. You would sit by him almost every night and let him relax alongside you, inviting the others like Malleus, Lilia, Silver, maybe even the new magicless human from time to time for extra companionship
⚡ Sebek also protects you the same way he does Malleus. Anytime he sees/hears someone disrespect you, he yells at full volume about how 'repulsive' and 'self-hating' they must be. One time, he had found a Diasomnia third-year speaking about how you must be using your title to get you through College, and oh boy did he regret saying that
⚡ He had told Lilia about the words, leading the elder Fae to grit his teeth in a smile before telling his son and son-figure to get ready for a small interrogation, War Style
⚡ He also enjoys to see you train against others. You were raised by a former soldier, so fighting was in your 'blood', in a way. The way you gripped a spear and readied yourself whilst kicking away and dodging every upcoming hit coming from your uncle figure just made stars appear in your nephew's eyes
#Twisted Wonderland#TWST#Disomnia#TWST Side Characters#Twisted Wonderland x Reader#TWST x Reader#Diasomnia x Reader#TWST Side Characters x Reader#GN! Reader#Fae! Reader#Adopted! Reader#Baul Zigvolt#Baul Zigvolt x Reader#Sebek Zigvolt#Sebek Zigvolt x Reader
200 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Dark Obsession: Sauron and Galadriel's relationship
This analysis is not thought of in romantic or sentimental terms. But it seeks to understand how such opposite beings, separated by light and darkness, are able to coexist and even understand each other's deepest ambitions.
And to understand how this thread of darkness tied the destinies of Galadriel and Sauron, we need to remember how it all began. Or rather, who they were at the beginning of time when the world was young and there were no names for death.
When the world was young and the Valar ruled Arda, Melkor, who would become Morgoth, destroyed the peace in Middle-earth and Valinor, causing the destruction of the Two Trees.
With the help of Ungoliant, Morgoth darkened Valinor and the Valar despaired. With his servants, Morgoth returned to Middle-earth and brought pain and suffering to Elves and Men.
Galadriel was right. The Elves knew no words for death. The days in Valinor were golden and filled with good fortune, despite the malice of Morgoth. In the beginning, there was greater harmony. But, enraged by the loss of peace in their home, the Elves set out from Middle-earth in many companies. And Galadriel's family was present at the great pilgrimage.
The prophecy of Mandos was spoken, and sorrow and grief accompanied the journey of the Elves until the end of days. While Galadriel and the House of Finarfin fought against the forces of Melkor, Morgoth plotted in the darkness. And he was aided by his servants, and the worst of these was Sauron, his greatest lieutenant.
Like many elves in Middle-earth, Galadriel fought valiantly against the advance of evil and the forces of Morgoth. She was the sister of Finrod Felagund, mighty in wisdom and power.
Finrod ruled the elves while he fought against the enemies of the shadows. But even the mighty fall. And this moment defined, in the context of the show, the rest of Galadriel's days.
Marked by loss and grief, Galadriel realizes that she cannot live in peace until the last enemy has fallen at her feet. Morgoth has been destroyed, but Sauron, now greater and more terrible, stands ready to doom Middle-earth. Finrod's task becomes hers. It is her destiny to destroy those who condemned her brother to the cold and lonely halls of Mandos.
However, when anger and resentment remain attached to our souls, spirits and minds for too long, we become a little of what we seek to destroy. Hatred consumes even the noblest light. And Galadriel takes a path she had not foreseen when she decided to hunt Sauron and the evil he created. Who hunts whom now?
By the irony of the Valar or fate, Galadriel spent ages hunting Sauron, facing the furious weather in Helcaraxë and with nothing in her heart but revenge, Sauron was without fair form and struggling to survive in the depths of Middle-earth. The more you hate something, the more you attract it into your life, indeed.
Galadriel is alone on her journey, the elves are tired and weary. Ages have passed and Sauron has disappeared, there is no longer any reason to suffer a pointless search. Galadriel is forced to return to Lindon and abandon her pride. But is this enough for her?
No, I don't think so. Galadriel is a fighter, forged in steel and grief, after so many ages of fighting Morgoth and Sauron. She is unable to stop, she cannot stop. Her body and mind know only one path, revenge. Perhaps, because when the stars shine in the sky and the world sleeps, she is unable to move on until those she has lost see the sun rise once more.
Gil-galad senses the darkness slowly overflowing Galadriel's spirit. Hatred can be intoxicating until it becomes impossible to live without. She must now depart for Valinor and live in peace, a reward for her years of toil and hope of destroying Sauron.
The disagreement between Galadriel and Elrond, in my view, is the first sign of how the evil born of revenge is beginning to infiltrate Galadriel's mind, clouding the reason and light of her thoughts.
Elrond is wise and understands the suffering of Gladriel, his dearest friend, but he still realizes that this task will only cause more pain. He must convince Galadriel to give up her pursuit.
"Then why is it not gone from in here?"
It's a powerful scene. Galadriel touches her chest, her heart as she speaks passionately about what she's feeling. She couldn't let go of the hatred in her heart, could she? Evil can't let go of Galadriel's heart. Because this evil is not Sauron, this evil is her own desire for ruin and destruction against her tormentor.
This thought, however, is dangerous, since Melkor himself felt this way when faced with the punishments of the Valar.
Honestly, Galadriel's words to Elrond don't sit well with me. Doesn't he know the evil she has seen? This is vile, Galadriel. If we look back at Elrond's past, he has seen enough evil. The evil that has befallen his family, his people, himself.
But Galadriel is too blind to understand that many have suffered in Middle-earth, just as she has. Unlike them, she is trapped in the past. Leaving for Valinor is no gift to her. Not when she has lost so much, when she has suffered so much. Not when she has been given the pleasure of beholding again the beauty of the land of the Valar while the dead live in darkness.
It is not pride alone that compels Galadriel to abandon ship, but her own suffering. Ulmo, have mercy on her, for the waters of Arda are bearing her to meet the being who has caused her greatest grief.
Adrift at sea, Galadriel is taken to a group of shipwrecked people and that is when her path and Sauron's path meet again. Did he know who she was? I would say yes. Sauron knew his enemies, those who hunted him. After all, he killed her brother, how could he not know? Surely he felt a perverse pleasure in knowing that she would never recognize him.
Sauron is the Great Deceiver and this is his moment to entangle Galadriel in his plots. Sauron knows lies and nothing else, so Halbrand is there to test our minds. He is not Sauron at first glance, just a man. And he is as he weaves his deception.
There's a suspicious voice in my head, and it's asking to be heard. Honestly, when I first watched the first season, nothing about Halbrand really bothered me at first, but now I see things differently. So, let's talk about the worm.
In the prologue of the second season, we have the ship with the men of Middle-earth who are leaving in search of a better future, Númenor, perhaps. Sauron is with them when the worm attacks the ship. But, Sauron survives the attack of the creature. Even though it comes towards him in blind fury, it does not harm him.
So this quote right here will define what I'm saying here:
"Sauron was become now a sorcerer of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, foul in wisdom, cruel in strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled, lord of werewolves; his dominion was torment. He took Minas Tirith by assault, for a dark cloud of fear fell upon those that defended it; and Orodreth was driven out, and fled to Nargothrond."
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion
Sauron knew Galadriel's family and, most importantly, he commanded the beasts of Middle-earth. I understand then that the worm did not attack him for that reason. But why would the worm attack a second time, right where Sauron was?
I don't believe Sauron planned the second attack, not at first. However, when Galadriel comes to the shipwreck and he recognizes her, I suspect this plan has formed in his mind. All the mortals on the ship die, leaving only Galadriel and Halbrand. He is alone with her and can spill his lies.
Sauron, did you call the worm to be part of your great deception? I bet you did.
Were all of Sauron's actions evil? It is very difficult to say. Sauron did indeed repent when Morgoth was defeated, but he did not follow the Valar's will and fled to Middle-earth. However, this proves that he can repent, but that he simply refuses to do so.
So he could also do good, but he chooses not to. With Sauron, there are no right answers. His deception is too strong to affirm or deny. Still, he saved Galadriel and that changed the course of their journey.
There is a point during the time that Sauron and Galadriel are adrift that generates a lot of mixed opinions. Sauron was apparently vulnerable and letting his grief show. I believe he was, in part, vulnerable. Not because he was romantically interested, after all, they barely knew each other for that. But because his entire life had been turned upside down.
Sauron spent eons formless and wandering in the depths of the earth, bereft of his kingdom and his power. It is to be expected that he would be vulnerable. But, as I have already analyzed about Sauron and Adar/Galadriel/Celebrimbor, even when Sauron is being honest, he is being honest through lies that allow him to achieve his goals.
And now Sauron and Galadriel have arrived in Númenor. Was it at this point that Sauron considered destroying the people of Númenor? It is emphasized in the books that Sauron feared the people of Númenor because they could rival him in strength and power. They were a threat, and Sauron meets his threats with the same strategy. He destroys them.
Something I find very interesting about Sauron's character is how he shapes the desires of those around him. As Celebrimbor said in season two, Sauron plants ideas in your mind and makes you believe that those ideas were always yours. He does this with Galadriel.
Sauron regretted at first, but he did not return to Valinor and atone for his sins. Why would he be otherwise now? As much as I love the idea of Halbrand in Númenor, I am not blind to the fact that he did not exist. Could Sauron have stayed in Númenor and lived as a mortal? I doubt it. His thirst for power, his desire to rule, to heal Middle-earth, would have grown stronger in time.
And in my view, Sauron has been doing reverse psychology with Galadriel. When he says he wants peace for himself, that he wants to stay in Númenor and start over, it is not how he would have her understand it. As a mortal man. But when Galadriel sees it that way, she despairs. She wants him to fight with her against Sauron, against the evil that has also hurt him, as it has hurt her.
Galadriel has spent eons without her husband, whom she loved so much and lost in the war against Sauron, she has lost her family, and her friends believe she is becoming the evil she hunts. Halbrand is her salvation.
And Sauron's refusal only increases her efforts. That's his big deception, isn't it? Pretending you don't want something, just to get it without having to be honest.
When Galadriel fights the boys, Halbrand watches. Was he watching as an enemy? Honestly, I don't think so. I believe that once he realized that she trusted him and was following his plans, she was no longer a target for his malice. His demonstration with the sword incited her doubts, fueling her belief that he is the lost king.
But he keeps refusing, he keeps denying that he wants to leave for Middle-earth. Galadriel and Halbrand are in conflict, Míriel allowed the sending of the ships and will help the people of Middle-earth. But the king of the mortal people refuses to leave. Galadriel tries to convince Halbrand, but she did not foreshadow that conversation.
Behind all the deceit and perversion, I would say this was Sauron's most sincere moment. Wearing Halbrand's skin, he talks about the evil he has done, the suffering he has endured. And Galadriel understands him and feels sorry for him. Sauron knows it is only because she does not know his true face. Sauron is doomed to be accepted only when he assumes a form to please/deceive others. Morgoth, Galadriel, Mirdania, Celebrimbor.
Galadriel will not stop fighting, she is incapable of it. She will leave without Halbrand if necessary. Is Sauron compelled to leave? No. He uses Galadriel's insistence as a way to further guilt her, I will delve deeper into this shortly. I suspect he left because he could not resist the temptation to heal Middle-earth. If Sauron were capable of love, he would love Middle-earth. But it is a dirty, twisted love, born of malice in search of corrupted good.
And Sauron can finally take revenge on Adar. Sauron and Galadriel are ready to fight the Orcs. Galadriel confronts Adar head on and this moment changes many things in her. I believe that at this moment, she understood how anger and revenge were condemning her soul, contaminating it. And she wants to repair this mistake.
Then we have the conversation between Halbrand and Galadriel after Adar's interrogation. In his twisted and deceitful way, I believe that Sauron saw Galadriel as his equal.
A powerful being who could stand by his side in healing Middle-earth, as he stood by Morgoth, partners. She could be his salvation, as he was hers. The problem with the fantasy idea of salvation is that it often comes with deceit and despair.
Adar's final attack either foils Sauron's plans or not. Halbrand's wound is indeed a chef's kiss. Was he really hurt, or was it just an illusion? It's hard to say. But I'm sure he planned for his vulnerability to bring him closer to Galadriel. And indeed it did, when she took a mortal man to an elven kingdom, only for him to survive.
Galadriel has grown attached to Halbrand. He has seen the darkness in her and has not been frightened or rejected her, as she thought others had done. Halbrand ends up becoming her only ally.
Did Sauron expect Galadriel to fight him in Eregion? No, I don't think so. The two of them set off for the Elven realm, and Halbrand receives the help he needs. He is in the right place to achieve his ultimate goals. And Celebrimbor is within his reach.
That's how a third act in a play ends, isn't it? Halbrand's mask hasn't slipped. Sauron is just slipping into his lies because he's too confident to be careful. And who knows, maybe deep down he believes Galadriel really will follow him.
Celebrimbor was the deciding factor in Galadriel's unraveling. Galadriel was already wary of Halbrand in Eregion, who after his healing became very close to the forge and Celebrimbor, but I think she continued to deny the truth to herself. Refusing to see what was before her eyes.
Celebrimbor's words, however, cannot be a mistake. Adar spoke these very words to her. Words that Sauron spoke to him. Words that could only have been spoken to Celebrimbor through Halbrand. Seeking the lineage of the kings of Middle-earth is her last attempt to trust that Halbrand was honest, and it is all a mistake.
Halbrand seems different now, his words don't ring true and Galadriel notices the difference. She has spent weeks at Halbrand's side. She doesn't recognize this man.
"I will never forget that. And I'll see to it that no one else does either."
The words I said I would elaborate on later. Is Sauron grateful that Galadriel saved him? That's not the point here, but rather the guilt he places on her shoulders. Galadriel helped Sauron return, gave him the confidence and strength to fight in Middle-earth, at least that's what he wants her to believe. He would do all these things with or without her. But guilt is an aphrodisiac and once it sets in it's hard to fight.
The masks have fallen and Sauron no longer needs to lie. But did he really lie? He told Galadriel that he found the crest on a dead man, he was truthful. He said he was not the king she expected, true. He said he had done evil, true again. The problem with Sauron's honesty is that it is never total. He is truthful through the lies that will benefit him.
Sauron was surprised by Galadriel's refusal to stand by his side, indeed. I imagine he had not expected it. He had glimpsed the darkness in her, and had certainly expected her to yield. Could this be the point of no return?
In a final attempt, Sauron tests Galadriel's barriers. He speaks to her with the face of Finrod, who died by his hand. How did he think this would work? But the distorted image does not soften Galadriel, it strengthens her, so he tries again.
He takes her to the sea where they were adrift together, where they met and she began, even if unknowingly, to trust him. That vision has the opposite effect. It tarnishes the memory, distorts all events. Sauron then appeals to Galadriel's desire for power.
Gandalf was right, Sauron does not share power. But he can use this to convince Galadriel, even though they would not be equal in power. She could be strong at his side, feared and revered. The real manipulation is to claim that he would not be so dark with her by his side. It is too much of a burden for her to bear.
Galadriel's refusal infuriates Sauron. As discussed before, he does not take rejection well. And if Galadriel will not be by his side, he will destroy her in return. Galadriel is strong enough to escape, and Sauron is now far away.
All that remains is the weight of his lies and the void he left behind. Galadriel has been deceived by the one she pursued for so long, and she will have to deal with the consequences.
Galadriel's rejection begins Sauron's dark obsession with her.
In the second season, Galadriel and Sauron are estranged not only physically, but mentally. Sauron's lie still burns deep within her. While Sauron is in Adar's camp planning his new deception, Galadriel pursues Elrond.
Elrond is devastated. He has seen the worst of the Silmarils' effects and how obsession can hurt so many. After discovering that Galadriel deliberately lied to him, he sets out from Eregion with the Three Elven Rings to warn Gil-galad.
Gil-galad is furious, and rightly so. In her desperate quest to destroy Sauron, Galadriel has allowed the enemy to draw near. Are the rings the elves' salvation or their destruction?
Elrond and Galadriel, friends for centuries, are on opposing sides. Gil-galad knows that Celebrimbor must be warned immediately, while he discovers whether the rings have been corrupted. Elrond, however, leaves with them.
Galadriel disregards Gil-galad's orders countless times and he continues to trust her. He knows that she would never help Sauron if she knew, that she would not use the rings for his purposes. While they search for Elrond, Sauron arrives in Eregion and Celebrimbor is the new victim of his lies.
Sauron isolates Celebrimbor from the Elves, but he does not banish Galadriel from his mind. He pursues her, trying her strength, trying her darkness. The sight of Celebrimbor stirs the guilt she feels.
Galadriel fears that she is responsible for Sauron's return, and Sauron exploits this. Celebrimbor's death would be at her hands, he practically says, as he calls her name, preventing her from moving away from his power.
Gil-galad tries tirelessly to open Galadriel's eyes, to dispel the idea that Halbrand ever existed. No matter how justly he used it, he was always Sauron, her enemy.
Elrond, however, is too hurt to be fair. He fears what the rings might do, he has been through it before and he still suffers from it. Galadriel turns to her friend once more, wanting his support, his help, for someone to take the burden of guilt off her shoulders.
She fears giving in to Sauron once more, being seduced by his words and promises. She feels used and needs help to resist temptation, she knows that Sauron has not forgotten her. Elrond confronts her, he does not trust her, he fears that she will give in to Sauron once more. In Elrond's mind, if Galadriel does not refuse to wear the rings, then Sauron never abandoned her.
Did Sauron think of Galadriel in Eregion? I bet he did. She rejected him, scorned his promises, and resisted his power. He will not rest until she is as corrupted as he is. And Mirdania certainly reminded him of Galadriel. Deceiving Mirdania is fun, because he remembers Galadriel and how she escaped his deception.
In Eregion, Sauron is definitely busy. To forge the rings, he needs to corrupt each of them with his power, his malice, as he cannot with the Elven Rings. Galadriel was right, he did not corrupt them, and so he desired them all the more.
To prevent Sauron's plans, Galadriel sets out with Elrond and the elves of Gil-galad. It is not, however, an easy journey. Elrond is being harsh but fair with her. He fears for her and is resentful and above all, he is afraid of the rings. I do not believe that Elrond was angry with her, not out of malice. But rather out of fear of this new power.
But Galadriel is also hurt. She resents herself for trusting Sauron, for still thinking of him in part as Halbrand. It is frightening to accept the truth. She suffers from guilt and from being judged by everyone. She suffers, most of all, from having been deceived by Sauron.
Galadriel’s grief grows as she journeys, accepting that her hands are stained with blood, because evil drove them into the forest and Sauron deceived them, or so she believes. For all the evil caused by Sauron, Galadriel blames herself. And she speaks to Elrond.
Because she is desperate for companionship, for someone who can understand her fears, as Halbrand used to. She fears that Sauron knows her mind and that he can rule them all. She begs Elrond to choose the world, above her, if it will defeat Sauron. She will only assuage her guilt by sacrificing herself.
The Orc attack leaves everyone unprepared. They are close to Eregion, confirming the elves' fear that Sauron is already in control of the city and Celebrimbor's mind. Is this the moment when Galadriel chooses to surrender? When there is nothing left to lose and she knows that if the ring falls into the hands of Adar or the Orcs, peace will be shaken in Middle-earth.
If obsession had a name, it would be Sauron.
The rings of the people of Khazad-dûm are ready and working, or so they think. Sauron is having results with his plan. He can control Durin III's mind, intoxicating him with his power, slowly corrupting him, but he needs more.
Men need Rings. If he cannot control the Elves, he will need as many peoples bowing at his feet as possible in Middle-earth. And he does indeed intend to recover the Three Elven Rings. And Galadriel is his gateway.
The funny thing is how obsessed Sauron has become with Galadriel. I would say rejection caused it. Sauron is in Eregion forging rings, following his plan, dominating Celebrimbor's mind, but still he is thinking about Galadriel. Why doesn't he forget? I don't think Sauron is used to being rejected.
He thinks of Galadriel when he looks at Mirdania, doesn't he? The blondness of her hair, her elvish features, her innocence about his true nature. It is like deceiving Galadriel all over again. But he feels successful with Mirdania, because she does not distrust him. She has not suffered at the hands of Sauron's malice as Galadriel has, and that's why Galadriel notices him, she's very distrust and be marked by darkness.
He didn't need to talk about Galadriel while he was trying to deceive Mirdania. There was no reason or purpose in his plans for it. But I believe it's because he was obsessed. Sauron was obsessed with many things, all related to those who rejected him. Adar and his army, Galadriel and the Elves. The more he is rejected, the more he thinks about those who rejected him.
And now Galadriel is in the hands of her greatest enemy and ally. Adar suspected Halbrand, and yet he allowed him to escape. Now he needs Galadriel's help and her ring to destroy Sauron.
Like Elrond, Adar forces Galadriel to confront the truth. How consumed she was by Sauron’s destruction, blinded by the vengeance in her heart that she could not even recognize the evil that lay before her.
And most of all, Adar understands the emptiness that Sauron’s deception leaves. When he fills you with promises and beautiful lies, encouraging your mind to believe him, to desire what he is offering, only to suffer when he betrays you.
Galadriel says she resisted Sauron, but did she? She rejected him, abandoned him, and thwarted his plans. But the power he offered, the possible healing of Middle-earth, stuck in her mind, seduced her, even if she would not admit it.
Galadriel has drunk the wine of Sauron's words, as Adar had drunk the wine offered by Sauron ages before. But Galadriel cannot bear to admit that he has almost convinced her, even to Adar.
And she does not know whether she can trust Adar, and his empty promises. Destroying Eregion in Sauron's place is a price she is not willing to pay. The destruction of her beloved elven kingdom cannot be the solution.
Galadriel had no idea how deep Sauron's plans and evil were. And how strong Adar's determination to destroy Sauron was. Lindon's army arrived to protect Eregion and prevent the Orcs from destroying all the beauty and goodness of those people.
Everyone is desperate. Sauron needs Celebrimbor to finish the rings while Eregion is under siege, and Elrond needs to convince Adar to withdraw his army. Scheming, Elrond helps Galadriel escape, and she sets out among the people of Adar, trying to deceive the Orcs.
In the trenches, Galadriel see Arondir. This is her moment of clarity. Arondir is blinded by revenge against Adar, seeking to cover the wound caused by the Uruk. Just as Galadriel was blinded by revenge against Sauron when she returned to Lindon, when she decided that she could not bear to live in Valinor as long as Sauron lived. Galadriel cannot allow Arondir to be tainted by darkness as she has been.
When Galadriel arrives in Eregion, I believe she finally understands who Sauron really is. Since the revelation, Halbrand has remained in her mind, Sauron a vision not quite real. But the destruction of Eregion changes all that, Celebrimbor's suffering changes that.
Did Galadriel suffer when she saw how Celebrimbor mutilated himself? I am sure she did. Her beloved friend is wounded, his kingdom destroyed, because of Sauron. So she blames herself. For having trusted Halbrand who is Sauron. For having led Sauron to Eregion. For not having resisted Sauron's temptation long enough.
The forging of new rings is the final straw. Galadriel understands Celebrimbor's guilt and will not rest until she has redeemed herself and her friend. She accepts the rings to take them far away, away from Sauron and his dominion. Just as she intends to escape his dominion.
This is the moment everyone has been waiting for. Galadriel has not encountered Sauron since his revelation, and she knows she cannot escape him forever. When she is taken to Adar, she struggles to believe that together they can right the wrongs of Sauron and the Orcs.
Galadriel is tired of fighting Sauron, as Adar was tired, as Celebrimbor was tired. So many ages of war and revenge have consumed her completely and she believes in Adar, she has no choice but to trust him.
Meeting Sauron again is a painful surprise. There he is, the evil of Middle-earth, the Dark Lord, the destroyer of Eregion and the bane of Elves and Men. But behind those words, she had once known him as Halbrand. The contrast between Halbrand and Annatar must have hurt Galadriel deeply.
Sauron fights not only Galadriel's body, but her mind, her spirit. He is ruthless in his attacks, attacking without mercy. But it is Sauron's words that cut deepest, the illusions he forces Galadriel to endure.
She can either follow Sauron and save Middle-earth, or she can be destroyed by him if she rejects him again. Worst of all, Sauron actually believes his words. That he would make Galadriel his queen to be fair, that they could save Middle-earth, that they could bring peace.
There is no salvation for Sauron, and he cannot fulfill any of his twisted promises. And Galadriel no longer believes in his illusions, even though to Sauron, they were real. His own truth.
Sauron says he doesn't want to hurt Galadriel, and I believe that's true. Just as he didn't want to hurt Celebrimbor. But he manipulates and betrays and doesn't accept when others abandon him, so he feels forced to hurt his opponents.
Sauron is as Celebrimbor said. The Great Deceiver who is able to deceive himself.
The Halbrand that Galadriel knew has changed and only Sauron remains. Galadriel, however, has also changed. She recognizes the pull of darkness, but she has changed. She is no longer the elf who fled Valinor and lied to Elrond, who defied Gil-galad. Galadriel is stronger and she will no longer let Sauron enter her mind. The mind he knew is gone.
"The door is still open." "The door is shut."
Sauron understands that despite all his attempts, despite all his deceptions, he will no longer be able to entice Galadriel, because she refuses his advances. Galadriel chooses death instead of him, to protect the elves, to protect her mind from him.
Sauron is once again alone and rejected, accompanied only by his power and ambition.
Did Tolkien ever consider Sauron to be obsessed with Galadriel's light? Galadriel has always been a strong opponent, great in power and light. Mighty in mind and wisdom. She would be an even better ally.
"I say to you Frodo that even as I speak to you I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns elves, and he gropes ever to see me and my thought but still the door is closed."
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The fellowship of the ring
Sauron is doomed to corrupt everything he touches and remain alone. He will never have Galadriel's mind to control and corrupt, because she knows his mind. And because she is stronger than the darkness in him, her light will continue to repel Sauron's advances throughout the ages.
And Sauron's obsession with Galadriel will never end. Wanting to know her mind, as she knows his, and as he once knew hers. Wanting to corrupt her light and turn her to his side. Wanting to convince her mind that his path is the only path.
Last words: Remember what I said a few days ago. This analysis is not romantic, mine are not and never will be. Everyone has their own opinion and way of understanding the show. And this is mine. Don't waste your time hating different views and couples. Let's take advantage and share our thoughts in harmony. Because this analysis is how I see the dynamics of Galadriel and Sauron, not yours, nor anyone else's, just mine.
And I don't even want to attack anyone with the analysis, so there's no reason to be attacked either. This fandom already has enough hate, the world already has enough hate. Let's be kind to each other! :)
#the rings of power#trop#the lord of the rings#tolkien#the silmarillion#sauron#morgoth#celebrimbor#annatar#galadriel#mairon#trop spoilers#morfydd clark#charlie vickers#galadriel x sauron#lotr#my analysis
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
Genshin Cult AU but reader really doesn’t wanna be creator
warning(s): mental-health issues, mentions of suicide, mentions of death and killing, angst
Isekaied reader who always dreamed of going to teyvat but when they actually go, they realize they took for granted their life before. They’re homesick and want nothing more to return to their family.
They hide and no one recognizes the creator’s face. Reader makes friends with people and becomes close. However, they’re devout followers of the creator. Reader goes to “mass” with them and when they’re there they can hear their prayers. They decide to help them out in their own way.
Someones missing, they goes out to find the missing person and since none of the creatures hurt them, it’s relatively easy.
Someone’s sick, reader buys them medicine or helps heal them.
Reader accidentally helps too many people and they begin to suspect them. Their very close friend apologizes before cutting reader and their golden blood is shown to all. Reader feels heartbroken at their close friend being distant out of respect. They just wanted to help people, they didn’t want to be put on a pedestal. They wish no one ever knew. And all of a sudden everyone forgot about reader being the creator.
That’s when reader finds out they can erase memories/control minds. They decide to leave since nothing is the same.
They become depressed and starts drinking. Reader heads over to mondstadt and drowns themself in alcohol and gets heavily drunk in front of diluc. He figures out that they’re the creator after ranting to him in their druken state. However, they erase his memories.
For years, reader lives while erasing the memories of those who discover them. During this time, they’ve tried to off themself several times only to fail. Finally, after the boredom and loneliness sinks in, they finally decide to give being creator a shot. They think it can’t be that bad and reveals themself. They were wrong.
Now reader has a suffocating pressure on them at all times. So, instead of erasing their memories (since they’ve been doing that for years), reader tries to do something different. They try to be evil.
Reader kills people off/orders their execution at the slightest of things. They hope that their evilness will spark the people’s will to kill them. However, no one bats an eye. All of the acolytes believe that they’re right no matter how cruel reader is. Even the families of the people they’ve killed think that there must have been something wrong with their loved one for the creator to sentence them to death.
Because they are so blind with devotion, reader tries to manipulate them into hating them. Poisoning the acolytes mind against themself. That still doesn’t work. Even if reader blatantly tells them that they don’t give a fuck about any of them, the acolytes just become more determined to fix themselves so that reader approves of them.
Next, reader tries to use mind control to force the acolytes into killing them. But no amount of damage they do can kill them. They are immortal. When it fails, reader erases their memories.
Finally, reader tells them that they’ve seen of a future where a powerful god/creator from a different universe is planning on invading. They urge everybody to create the most powerful weapon that could kill a creator/god. When they finally create one, reader uses it on themself.
Sad ending: The weapon doesn’t work on them because the acolytes made a safe guard to ensure no harm comes to the creator. Reader is so despaired that they kill everyone and is doomed to live an eternity in an empty universe.
Alternate Ending: Reader manipulates the acolytes to remove the safe guard and then uses it on themself, finally succeeding in killing themself after years of being trapped. But they don’t return to their home-world and remain dead. The entirety of Teyvat suffers from the knowledge that their beloved creator offed themselves to escape the world they created.
#can you see a pattern in my writing#i dunno why all of the readers i write never wanna be creator#can u tell my mental state from my writing#yandere genshin#genshin impact#yandere sagau#yanderexreader#archons#yandere#creator#genshin cult au#sagau#acolytes#yandere x reader
937 notes
·
View notes
Text
Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 16 Dissection
Wow. Just wow. What a way to end off the chapter. (/pos)
I wasn't expecting to have a whole lot to theorize about with this one (especially given its relatively shorter length), but buckle in, because I'm sure I'm going to have a lot to say about the way that the end of this brilliant chapter played out...
Enough to call this a Part 1 again, much like I did last time. That means I have a rate of way over one image per minute...
SPOILERS for Danganronpa: Despair Time through the end of Chapter 2. (wild) Also spoilers for SDR2 through the beginning of Chapter 4.
When I was first watching the episode, I definitely had the thought, "I wonder if MonoTV is just saying this for the sake of engagement with the theoretical audience, because it seems like MonoTV should already know what the answer is due to its role and what the students just said." Based on what happens later in the episode, that was probably about correct? I dunno, there's a lot to unpack with MonoTV here.
Who Voted Teruko?
(For all two people who would understand the reference, please read that header in the tone of "who voted Sifu?" from Survivor 45. Or, really, I should probably say one person, because it's probably just Venus :P)
So, it's happened once again. While the clear majority of the votes are on the correct blackened, Ace, we have a single straggler who decided to vote for Teruko instead. But, who is this mystery person? Let's talk possibilities.
First, however, I think we should take a look at last Trial's voting results.
What I find strange is that the order of the students, even those who weren't voted for, changed. My guess was that students who receive votes are put at the front, students who are dead are put at the end, and the middle seems to be alphabetized by last name order?
Chiem - Cuevas - Fontana - Giles - Grebenshchikova - Hakobyan - Jing - Lacroix - Markey - Nageishi - Rosales - Tobisa - Young
Interestingly, if true, this means that J was being categorized as "J Rosales" even when she was still going by "J Moreno" in Chapter 1. Fascinating.
Anyways, the Chapter 2 board has shuffled things around. Obviously Min and Arei have been moved down since they died, and Ace was moved to the top because he now has votes. However, the end of the lineup also changed, for some reason.
Chiem - Cuevas - Fontana - Giles - Grebenshchikova - Hakobyan - Jing - Lacroix - Young - Tobisa - Rosales
What does this mean? Honestly, I have no clue. None of the students stayed in the same positions relative to each other (as in, Whit is no longer after Eden, Eden is no longer after J, etc), so I don't think it can be used to particularly suspect any of them? If anything, I think Eden would look the least suspicious, because at least she stayed in the middle while J and Whit swapped who was at the beginning or the end.
It's possible this was just an editing mistake, but I figured I'd point it out in case it helps anyone with their theories. (Clearly, it's just evidence that Whit is one step closer to becoming a Cuevas--)
Back to the original point, who was the one Teruko vote? In Chapter 1, I think it's pretty widely agreed upon that Min voted for Teruko. However, Teruko got two votes in Chapter 1, so the possibility remains that it could be the same person who's voted for Teruko twice now. I've gone on the record to say that I thought Arei was the one to provide Teruko her second vote in Chapter 1, but thankfully numberoneanika helped me to see how there could have been other options.
Obviously, Arei wasn't the one to vote for Teruko this time. So, with that in mind, here are my best theories:
Ace
Pros: Doesn't want to die, and therefore might not want to vote for himself. Probably the most obvious option.
Cons: At the end of 2-15, Ace was, all things considered, pretty accepting of his upcoming death. He said that the only reason he was fighting back was to stall for time, but that he knew that there was no way he'd get out of the Trial alive. Voting for Teruko doesn't help him delay the inevitable at all. If he were trying to cast a vote in the vain hope that it would save him from death, I would have expected it to go to Eden. Also, I doubt that Ace would have been the extra vote for Teruko in Chapter 1, to the extent that's important.
David
Pros: Dislikes Teruko and wants to cause chaos. It's also possible he could have cast the extra vote on Teruko in Chapter 1, if he had already made up his mind about wanting to take the killing game off the rails.
Cons: Honestly, I don't know if there are any direct cons to it being David who cast the vote. He might have been able to get more emotional damage for his buck if he'd voted for Eden or something? I don't know.
Teruko
Pros: Believes herself to be at least partially at fault for the deaths of her fellow classmates and doesn't like it. Therefore, if she can't bring herself to have another hand in their deaths by casting a vote on them, she could vote for herself (believing she can't die) instead. This is also an option that could easily be repeated across all Trials, if important.
Cons: If Teruko wants to proceed with not helping all of her other classmates die, it's in her best interest to vote correctly, instead of swaying the votes to an incorrect answer and having everyone but Ace die.
The Mastermind???
Pros: While it's not a guarantee, the mastermind likely has a grudge against Teruko (assuming the mastermind is not Teruko herself), due to the "kill Teruko Tawaki" missive/note. Therefore, they could be voting for her due to their grudge. From a narrative sense, this would also "ensure" that this phenomenon can happen at every Class Trial, if that's what DRDTdev wants.
Cons: Although I just laid out their motive, this would be an incredibly petty thing for the mastermind to do and could potentially give the innocent students needless additional information about their identity.
Conclusion? I think it's most likely to be David. After my blunder last time, though, I'm definitely willing to hear out other options if people have candidates to propose!
Also, it's nice that they updated David's portrait to include his new Look. I imagine some art intern scurrying around behind the scenes trying to find a good screenshot of David to use on the board in the last hour of the Trial.
Yo, wait, is that an anti-MM-coded line for Whit? Because the mastermind would obviously expect there to be more than one Trial? Can we get some more of these??? (/j)
Also kinda anti-Whit-knowingly-being-in-a-time-loop lines, for anyone who's been considering that theory. Unless he's just really deep undercover, to the level where he's interjecting lines that go against the theory to a group of people who have yet to suspect him for it at all.
LET'S GO NICO PARALLELS!!!!!!
Hu: How could you say it's just misfortune? Arei wasn't killed because of an accident. Bad luck or not, Ace had made up his mind to go through with this murder! So we can't possibly blame ourselves for failing to prevent something like that.
🔥🔥🔥THE BLAMING YOURSELF SISTERS🔥🔥🔥
Well, more or less. Teruko is fully blaming herself under the name of "misfortune"-- that much was made clear by the end of the episode, if nothing else. But Hu is coping by continuing to blame Ace convincing herself that there's nothing she could have done, and therefore isn't actually to blame. It doesn't matter how reliable she was-- because she was reliable, she promises-- because Ace was going to kill anyways. Basically, it doesn't matter how much of an immovable object she was because Ace was such an unstoppable force. Ignore the fact that the whole debate is about which of those would win.
Hu's stance is fascinating, though, because it means that she's somewhat buying in to the idea of fate. Arei was fated to die, Ace was fated to kill, no skin off your back. Given that MonoTV itself represents fate, it seems clear that one of the main messages of this story will be fate doesn't exist/is what you make it, which means that, to some degree, all of the characters will have to be representatives of or affected by that, with believing in the concept of immutable fate being represented as the villain. (I'm sure I'll talk about this more next time I talk about mastermind candidates.)
Therefore, Hu cashing in on the fate idea could be good or bad for her. It might be important that we establish that she does believe in fate, much like Teruko does, because she'll need to face it and denounce it on her way to survivor-hood. Or, this could be a subtle indicator that Hu will always lean on fate to protect her own sense of self, a red flag for her being a killer or possibly even a mastermind in the future.
Hu is clearly being set up to be a major player in Chapter 3, though, which is great for me, because that's exactly what I wanted! Let's get you some real daily life screentime, girl :)
Absolutely raw line here.
Eden: I... I can't forgive him. He killed Arei, after all. She was innocent, and he killed her for unfair reasons. But... those unfair reasons were unfair to him as well. Veronika: [...] When we first met Ace a week ago, he was the same person, certainly, but he was also different. He was happier, and he trusted people more. And he wasn't a murderer back then. Still, between then and now, he changed. He had to. Like adding stones to a pane of glass, one after another, until eventually, the glass cracks. The only thing anyone can do in this killing game is to shatter.
And another raw line from Veronika at the end of her section. I can't wait to see both of those lines used as captions for people's fanart.
Still though, on top of being true (and highlighting how Ace did actually change for the worse), this also feels like a reminder to us that the characters are changing over the course of the killing game. Therefore, a character who said one thing in Chapter 1 might not feel the same way once they hit Chapter 3 and beyond. Being in the killing game takes a toll on everyone, and the self-discovery it inspires can lead people to do things that they never would have done before. Case in point, Levi sacrificing himself for Teruko later in this episode.
SO true Veronika. Casual reminder to you all that this is literally only overall Day 8 of the killing game. Xander was alive less than one week ago for these people.
If I had a nickel for every time that Ace was compared to glass in Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 16, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
(Also, the clock-themed music is back. I wonder what it's supposed to represent...? *adds it to my already way too long list of theories to write now that the Chapter has ended*)
Genuinely WHAT was acevi cooking this episode. (/pos) I had never been super into the ship before because of how seemingly incompatible they were after the first trial, but seeing how much they clearly care about each other (or at least how much Ace cares about Levi) I'm kind of compelled to now. This truly was the toxic yaoi Trial ever.
Hey, FF called it in the "Blackened's Blaze of Glory" idea! Also, WOAH WHAT THE FUCK?!?!?!
Let's go, Ace animation! It's nice to see that he was able to participate in one before he died. And wow, did he participate indeed!
It's kind of crazy how breakable MonoTV is due to its screen face. Like, you can't just do that to a Monokuma; his head is likely too hefty. But, even though MonoTV is breakable, it doesn't mean anything in the end. False hope at its finest.
This is the face of someone going, "wait, was it really that easy?"
HOLY SHIT
Out of all the lines and events of this episode, it's quite possibly this line that has made me go the most insane. Just goes to show that I am way too invested in the lore of this series. (/j)
So, this is a direct confirmation that XF-Ture Tech was involved in the creation of MonoTV, and therefore, quite possibly the implementation of the killing game as well. That's huge. I mean, not too unexpected given how important it clearly was to Xander, Min, and even altDRDT, but I wasn't expecting to get confirmation here and now of all places.
Given this, I would not be at all surprised if the altDRDT character known as XF is the one who created MonoTV. Like, she might be the Ultimate Roboticist or Ultimate Software Developer or something. It also means that the mastermind very likely has some sort of positive association with XF Tech, so sus on Min (sponsored by XF), Rose (has connections to one of the Spurlings), and possibly J (family runs in wealthy circles). Of course, if XF Tech is directly partnered with HPA in some way, it could also be someone who's particularly associated with the school-- although, that would most likely be Min again.
There's also the question, "why did MonoTV have a different personality than the default driver," which is related to the question, "what was the default driver created for?" My immediate thought was that XF Tech might just have robot assistants that generally help them, and that was the default personality that was assigned from MonoTV. However, XF (or whoever else) found that boring for the sake of entertainment, and decided to jazz MonoTV up, possibly to make it more like Monokuma.
Then again, it's been highlighted again and again that MonoTV is really incompetent. Surely, that's not something that someone who wanted the killing game to succeed would want to program into their host. It could have been an accidental side effect, but if MonoTV really was made by the Ultimate Roboticist, would that person really make mistakes? Is it possible that MonoTV's personality could have been made that way to subtly sabotage the killing game?
(I understand I'm furthering logic off of a string of assumptions-- not trying to lay down the law here, just running you through my initial thought process upon considering this evidence.)
Given that MonoTV told us in Chapter 2 Episode 3 that it has a lot of limits and there's a lot it still doesn't know about the killing game, I don't think that this is a situation in which MonoTV's AI expanded so much over time that it developed a new personality. Especially because that means that all that development would have needed to happen before the killing game began, off screen. That's why I think that MonoTV's alternate personality needs to have a human explanation, which I believe might be tied to XF.
I don't have any "answers" to this question because I don't think we're meant to have any at this point, but I also can't make any particularly compelling guesses about it without reviewing a lot of the evidence we already have. (*adds another theory to my mental theory list*) I am thinking about this though. I'm thinking about it a lot...
MonoTV: Full restart scheduled in one hour.
Also, I take this to mean that MonoTV will likely be back to its usual personality come Chapter 3. It might have a slightly different design to take into account the broken screen, but I think the personality will remain the same.
(If MonoTV's body does get fixed, would that mean that there are multiple copies of MonoTV out there, or that someone fixed MonoTV within that tight time window???)
MonoTV is in your walls.
Also, here's a list of all the students who are shown reacting in a confused/scared manner after MonoTV begins to restart: Eden, Rose, Ace, Nico. Doesn't mean that they can't be the mastermind all of a sudden, but it is probably evidence to the contrary. After all, the mastermind would likely be the one most aware that this could happen. And, if you only build in four slots of people reacting in disbelief (such that there are plenty of people who could slip under the radar), it might make more sense to give those lines to people who are actually genuinely shocked, much like the audience.
Also also, I think that the text on MonoTV's screen reads, "Falling back to default driver. Restart in an hour." AKA, not much lore to be taken from there, other than that it's once again called the "default."
It's MonoTV Time Again
More absolutely essential information when it comes to cracking what exactly MonoTV is. This is a killing game that is, first and foremost, designed to kill everyone, not going for anything like "redemption" or "revealing the truth."
It's also fascinating that it says "every participant." Not even "every participant except one"; the killing game wants to kill everybody. What does that tell us?
This killing game is likely NOT an attempt to imitate Junko. In that case, they would be prepared for the possibility of multiple survivors.
The mastermind, assuming they're amidst the cast, is willing to die for the bit. Every participant includes themselves.
XF-Ture Tech also default wants everyone to die. This likely means that they were willing to sacrifice Min for whatever this plan was. Sorry, Min :(
Now, it is definitely possible that any of these ideas are an overstatement. Killing all of the students is stated to be MonoTV's purpose, NOT the purpose of the killing game as a whole. Therefore, it could be that MonoTV is programmed to want all of the students to die, to minimize the chance that it would develop any feelings of sympathy and start to work against the killing game. Meanwhile, the mastermind is expecting there to be one or more survivors, potentially including themselves.
However, that is just a minor potential discrepancy, and I find it likely that DRDTdev intended this scene to comment more on the rationale of the killing game as a whole. In which case, this is a fascinating look into the mastermind and XF Tech's rationale.
He cares about Charles so much :,) <3
I know some people have been using this as reason to suspect him ("why would he be more focused on Charles not getting traumatized than telling Teruko, who he theoretically also cares about, to run"), but personally, I didn't read it that way at all. (I say as, like, the #1 Whit Isn't Evil defender lmao)
First of all, from a pacing perspective, I think it was nice to have a quick break from people just telling Teruko to run. We have Eden saying that, followed by Charles saying that, so having the third instance be something a little different helped break up the repeat information, in my opinion. J tells Teruko to run immediately afterwards anyway, so you still get the same effect of everyone warning Teruko as the clock ticks down.
Secondly (and more importantly), I think that this could easily be an indication of Whit seeing Charles as sort of an extension of his mom. Not in the sense that he sees Charles as family, but that Whit had one person who he really, really cared about, and he couldn't stop them from dying or being hurt. Even though Whit does generally care about the others, after Xander and Min died, he realized that he wouldn't be able to save everyone. And, he wasn't even particularly interested in trying in the first place-- after all, he said that solving the fights between others wasn't his business, so it's not like he's trying to be everyone's savior.
If Teruko is already dead, then that's how it's going to be; there's nothing he can do about it. But he can try to protect the person he cares about most in this killing game from suffering, because he refuses to have that person exit his life again. The fact that Whit is prioritizing Charles' safety over anything else in this moment will only make it all the sadder when Whit fails to prevent Charles from dying in Chapter 3, and make the impact of his returning loneliness all the more catastrophic.
Obviously, that's just my theory and not a fact, but I do think that it's one reasonable way to explain why Whit said that here without having to cast him in any sort of suspicion. It's a possibility.
Yet another instantly iconic line. I'm so happy that DRDTdev is doubling down with this being the reality of Teruko's talent, because pushing the abilities of someone who's talented with luck is so fun!
Although, not gonna lie, in this moment, I was actually flabbergasted and frantically running through options of who I thought the replacement protagonist might be. Like, Eden? Charles?? When people said they thought David might become the protagonist, THEY DIDN'T MEAN FOR CHAPTER 3!!!
Also, absolutely diabolical to hide Teruko's execution in plain sight as the thumbnail, under the guise that this was meant to represent Ace's death. Gosh.
But it was actually Levi who got shot, which is fascinating! I also thought they might kill him here as sort of a pre-emptive double kill (as in, "keep on pace with the typical number of fangan survivors while not actually having to explain why a double kill occurred"), but from the way the rest of the episode plays out, I think it's pretty clear that he'll live through this experience.
He'll almost certainly have some sort of design update, though, which I'm excited to see. Let's hope he doesn't suddenly turn into a robot, a la Nekomaru. (I imagine this scene may have originally been inspired by creating an alternate take on Nekomaru taking a bullet for Akane.)
As for why Levi did this for Teruko, Venus explained to me what I now believe is probably the most likely reason: he's repaying a perceived "debt" he owed to Teruko after she saved him from being executed back in the Prologue. (Other people may have reached this conclusion as well, but I heard it from Venus first)
Teruko already saved his life once before, so now, he believes he owes it to her to save hers. Obviously, Teruko seemed pretty confident about surviving the execution, but he may have still thought that causing her to suffer a coma or the loss of a limb was big enough of a threat that she shouldn't have to suffer through it.
That sort of idea would also tie into what I originally thought might have been some of his reasoning: that he doesn't think very highly of his own life, and was willing to sacrifice it for someone who he considered "good"/more important than him. It would also allow him to die as a hero saving someone's life, rather than a heartless monster who ended lives. Not saying that this is a healthy rationale, but, well, the guy just threw himself in the line of fire for someone who said they'd be fine. Also, it's DRDT. Nobody here has a healthy rationale.
Btw, this ⬇
Levi: I don't understand. I can't understand you, no matter how hard I try.
Is the last thing that Levi was ever able to say to Ace (as well as Levi's last line of the Chapter). Have fun with that, acevi nation.
My heart broke in half when I saw Rose react in this way. Hang in there, queen...
MonoTV: Don't worry. I shut off the gun as soon as I detected that Levi was in the way. His injuries are not fatal.
Also, MonoTV's default programming still includes it saying things like "don't worry"? Fascinating.
Motherfucker Not Another Clearly Important Info Jumpscare-- (/j)
So, uh. Whit got a new sprite in Chapter 2 Part 2 other than his trying not to laugh one. Yaaaaaaay... (dissolves into tears)
Points of interest about the sprite itself: obviously, this is the closest thing that we've gotten to a scary/breakdown sprite for Whit thus far.
If you look at his eyes, you'll see that they've gone gray/black as opposed to his usual blue, and his heart-shaped pupils and arrow-circle design have gone completely missing. This makes him I believe the third character whose eyes turn gray when they're experiencing negative emotions thus far, after Xander and David. Another knight at the table of Sir Light Pollution! Although, notably, Xander and David's eyes always had some gray in them, while Whit's, prior to now, were 100% blue.
Whit is also holding one hand behind his back, which could be concealing something? I saw a comic (which I thought was drawn by gooseagain8, but I checked their account and I couldn't find it--) where he was holding a remote to keep the Trial doors shut behind his back, and now I can't think of anything else, haha. However, I also don't know where Whit would have gotten that remote from, so it's probably not that specifically.
I don't think I even have to explain why people would use this to think that Whit is the mastermind. It's pretty obvious. However, I do think that this probably diminishes the odds of Whit being your standard "revealed in Chapter 6" mastermind, because it's so obvious. Fangan authors, naturally, can do whatever the hell they want, but it seems unfitting for DRDTdev's behavior so far to give such a massive hint for something that's so far down the road. I say this because, with the mysteries of Mai, and XF Tech, and who says the quotes at the beginning of the Chapters, and LGI, DRDTdev seems to have a track record of enjoying a long-running mystery, and making complex, layered puzzles that the most insane of fans can go back and forth on for hours.
If this was meant to be a hint that Whit will be revealed as the mastermind in Chapter 6, I'd think we'd get, like, a sprite with Whit's hand behind his back but without the scary expression, or he'd say something more subtle like "don't you just love it when you can't get the door open?"
Instead, we get this incredibly in-your-face, obviously suspicious sprite, that even someone who had never seen an episode of DRDT before in their life could easily point out to suspect that Whit is evil. So then, why else could it be included?
One option is that it is meant to foreshadow that Whit will take on a more villainous role, but in the shorter term. He could be revealed as a mastermind or traitor in Chapter 3. My problem with this sprite as evidence of Whit as a late-game mastermind is that this is a really big hint. Generally, with a reveal like that, you'd probably want to build up to the reveal with bigger and bigger hints. For instance, you could say that DRDTdev started off with the small hint that Whit knows a lot about what people think, then move up to the medium hint that he and MonoTV have similar styles of humor and meta jokes, then move to the bigger hint that Whit suddenly knows a ton about how hanging works, for some reason. This piece of evidence is such a big hint that Whit is the mastermind (under the assumption that it is that) that I don't really know where you'd go from here without just saying that Whit is the mastermind. We've eliminated the possibility that the hints could grow any bigger, cutting the trail off early. Therefore, at the moment, I think this only (narratively) works if this is the last hint we get that Whit is the mastermind, which would mean that Whit would have to be outed soon.
Alternatively, I definitely think it's possible that DRDTdev is setting up Whit as an intentional red herring, a bait with which to divert the audience's attention away from whoever the real mastermind is. It could just be a fun game for the fandom, or actually come into play in the main plot in the future, if someone accuses him of being the mastermind on these charges. That's sorta the assumption I'd been operating off of before witnessing this scene. However, if that's the case, then DRDTdev shouldn't just have Whit do all of these things without creating an in-universe explanation for why he did them. Whit would have to have a completely innocent reason for striking this pose at this point, which... oh boy.
Not gonna lie, it's been difficult for me to come up with a non-sus explanation for this sprite that doesn't make it sound like I'm 100% coping, but I'll try my best. Anybody got some more of those spare anti-MM-coded Whit lines I asked for earlier?
Given the presentation of DRDT, when we see this sprite of Whit, we don't know what he's looking at. It's easy to jump to the assumption that he's looking at the students who are trying to open the door, but it's also possible that he's just looking at the door itself. Like, he's also just expressing his anger at the door for not opening.
If that's the case, it would probably be for the same rationale that I used to justify his line protecting Charles earlier. He doesn't want Charles to suffer, which means that he wants Charles out of this room now. The hand behind the back, then, is a tad confusing, but there are a few explanations I can think of.
The first is that this sprite was created with further uses in mind down the road. For instance, if Whit later hides a gun behind his back (don't ask how or why he would non-suspiciously have a gun), then this sprite may have been prepared to handle that circumstance so that it doesn't have to be redrawn later. Of course, to this point, DRDTdev hasn't held back with creating unique sprites for unique situations-- check out how many sprites Teruko and Ace have for likely just this episode. So, it's probably more likely that, if Whit does need to hide something behind his back later, it would have been drawn then.
The second is that just the hand is a red herring. The facial expression is real (being mad at the door), but DRDTdev made him hide his hand behind his back so that people would think he was concealing something. Overall, I think that's an acceptable level of red-herring-ness. You aren't faking something as big as the facial expression itself, but you still throw in a little false lead to throw the audience off of the scent. However, in an ideal world, there would still have to be an in-universe explanation for why he did it. Unless he just chose this moment to scratch his lower back, I don't know what that would be.
That's all I have for now, but I don't necessarily think that this sprite means that Whit has to be evil in some capacity. However, it's done the best job so far of making me think that he is, so I'll keep my mind open to that in the future.
This is such an excellent end to Ace's character. Like, I was already nodding my head along with all of the people who expressed why Ace's death here was narratively satisfying, but having him finally accept death in order to save Levi's life is a beautiful cherry on top.
I like it because it doesn't make Ace's death as overall depressing as everyone thought it would be. Ace was about to die believing that he was a piece of shit who never changed, even when everyone else wanted him to and was able to themselves. But, even if he might not have realized it, accelerating his own death for Levi's sake means that he did change. He was finally able to conquer his fears by looking them straight in the face. And, if the theories are correct that Ace had a hand in Taylor's death...
Ace: Because... because Levi is gonna fucking die, and I'm going to have a third goddamn death on my hands!
(Here's iistardust-and-sprinklesii's post, which first brought the idea that "third death" might mean that Ace was adding Levi on to his kill count of Arei and Taylor to my attention, at least.)
...it means that he also got to save a friend this time instead of killing him.
Obviously Ace's death is still a tragedy-- every death in the killing game is-- but just like Arei, he was still able to improve himself from who he was before he died. It's a really poetic ending that really hammers in the point that everyone has the capacity to be a good person, even in their last moments.
Really really really loved Logan's performance as Arturo here. This is the most... I don't know, human? Arturo has ever sounded. He sounds really young and afraid, which is totally befitting of the scene. It's not like I now believe that Arturo is a great guy and shoo-in survivor or anything, but it endeared me a lot to his character.
Also "I have no experience with saving lives" Felicity OOF.
This CG goes so fucking hard. First of all, I love the way that DRDTdev drew the hair and the fabric folds. They're always great, but I think that the extra sharpness and blockiness going on here serves the pointedness yet bluntness of Ace's words. Second of all, THE COLORS. Not only has everything become more red to highlight the fire and passion behind Ace's words, but it's also ACE'S COLOR. Ace is literally dyeing Arturo with his final message before he dies. I don't think we've really seen Arturo and Ace interact before (other than implied horror trio, I guess), so this was a fascinating move to make with regards to Arturo's character moving forward.
This is another way that Ace's character ends satisfyingly. Kind of funny that he's parroting this message when he just internalized it from Teruko, like, 15 minutes ago, but I understand why it resonated with him. And, like Levi, why he might have overstated this lesson so that he could go out as (even more of) a hero.
Execution Rambling Time!
This execution had a lot going on, so I expect to have a lot to say about it. We'll start here, with the name: Thanatophobia. For anyone who wasn't aware, it means, "fear of death." Totally makes sense, especially given Ace's eventual cause of death. I guess MonoTV/the mastermind/XF Tech(??? INSANE) knew enough about Ace to know that he was going to die of fright at the end? Eh, that's how most executions work, so I don't think it gives us too much to work with.
However, this is a confirmation that executions in DRDT are more based on what will cause students despair than directly what their talent is. It was kind of hard to tell with Min, given that her talent (Ultimate Student) and her fear of failing and being wrong kind of went hand in hand. However, horses were not the focus of this execution; Ace's personality was. Cool to keep in mind for future executions.
Drdtblingsceo (and perhaps others, but they were the first person I saw) was able to make out that not only does the grave on the left say "Taylor Riley," but the two other graves also say "Felicity Giles" and "Elliot Cuevas." (You can't really make it out in my screenshots, but you can see it better in the linked post. Sorry, I have a fairly old computer :( ) Terrible news for Mr. Riley, but great news for us when it comes to speculating about Ace's past. I wonder what caused Ace's secret to be about his eating disorder, rather than his dead friend that he seemingly blames himself for?
I was very closely inspecting this frame to see if it would contain any easter eggs about what happened in Xander's past. As far as I can tell, the article titles read, from right to left:
Unexplained Illness Kills Thousands
More People Are Dying of Cancer Than Ever Before
Flu Season Claims Thousands of Lives
Chronic Kidney Disease Mortality Death Toll Continues to Climb
??????? (I don't think this one actually has any text)
Falling Rates of Survival for Hospitalized Patients
Antibiotic-Resistant Infections a Growing Threat in Hospitals
Article #1 is the article that's zoomed in on for dramatic effect. As far as I can see, none of the actual paragraphs of any of the articles are legible.
We can fully rule out #2, #3, and #4 as being related to Xander-- those are all real-world diseases that don't really match up with the sickness Xander described. #5 is also out, because, even if it was meant to relate to Xander, it has no content, and therefore, nothing to analyze. I don't know why it's there, but it gives nothing.
#1, #6, and #7 all have the possibility of being related to Xander-- most likely #1, given that it was the one that was zoomed in on-- but that's only because they're vague. Therefore, we can't really learn anything more about the North C and Chariton incident from them. Still a good idea to check them, in my opinion, but they don't seem to bear any fruit.
Goddammit, do I really have to run out of images *now*? Like, in the middle of the execution? Fine, I'll be back to finish what I've started in a bit. Thank you for reading this far, and look out for the reblog hopefully later today!
#drdt#danganronpa despair time#drdt spoilers#drdt chapter 2 part 2 spoilers#monotv#ace markey#teruko tawaki#hu jing#whit young#levi fontana#arturo giles
104 notes
·
View notes
Text
DAY 12: DANGANTOBER
Day 12: Remnants of Despair
AT LAST, AT LONG, LONG LAST! IT'S HAPPENING, IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING! THE EVENT ONE BILLION YEARS PROPHESIZED HAS COME TO PASS! THE DAY HAS COME! I FINALLY GET TO RANT ABOUT THE REMNANTS! Hats off to you if you know what I was referencing just now, lol.
I've said this a lot, but I really love the Remnants of Despair. They're my favorite part of the Danganronpa story, and I think they're criminally underused. There's just so much potential to explore and work with, and it's something that plagues my mind 24/7. Their designs are awesome, their psychology is interesting, and further exploring them not only paints a more detailed picture of the characters, but of the Danganronpa world as a whole. In this post, I'll be talking about EVERYTHING, from what they did, to how they look, whatever comes to mind, really.
For those of you who have forgotten the details of the Remnants, never played or watched UDG, or just never watched the episodes of the anime where we get information about them, here's a recap.
So, hopefully everyone reading this is familiar with the cast of SDR2. That group of students are the ones who go on to become the Remnants of Despair (+Hajime, even though he was just a reserve course student at the time). While they were at Hope's Peak, they rarely hung out with one another. Their teacher, Chisa Yukizome, rounded up everybody and made them start coming to class so they could form connections with each other. This class of students consisted of Teruteru, Peko, Mahiru, Ibuki, Hiyoko, Mikan, Gundham, Nekomaru, Nagito, Chiaki, Fuyuhiko, Sonia, Kazuichi, Akane, and Imposter pretending to be a character named Ryota Mitarai (who will be discussed later in this post). After a few days of knowing each other, and a certain soup-related incident that I will not ruin this post with, Chiaki is named as the class representative.
As each day passed by, the class grows closer together, and closer to people outside of class as well. Chiaki makes friends with Hajime, and Mikan finds out about the real Ryota, and about Junko and Mukuro. Junko uses Mikan as a test subject for her despair video, and it works on her. She doesn't show up to class anymore, and one day, someone spots her on campus, so everyone goes searching for her. Nagito and Chiaki stumble across a hidden passageway, where they find Junko and Izuru. Nagito is injured in the interaction, and Chisa provides a distraction for the two of them to get away.
I fear I am jealous of Nagito here lmao. Chiaki and Nagito go back to the rest of the class, who found Mikan, and they all decide to go back for Chisa. Meanwhile, Junko has already brainwashed Chisa, and her master plan is set into motion. The class walks through the secret passageway, and Mikan separates Chiaki from everyone else. Chiaki runs into Chisa, who leads her to an elevator that takes her to a dungeon-like obstacle course, full of spikes and boulders. She must escape to get back to her friends, and Chiaki actually manages to reach the end. Unfortunately, she's been tricked, and she gets impaled by multiple spikes, dying from her injuries in a scene I will never forget.
The others are shown the footage of her death, and they begin to feel despair over the traumatic loss of their friend. Taking advantage of their anguish, Junko begins to play her despair video for the class, brainwashing them into Ultimate Despairs, who are then let loose to cause chaos in the world. The next time we hear about them as an active group, it's at Makoto's hearing for disobeying the Future Foundation to help them. There, we get this picture.
Whoever designed them ate, I fear. As the Remnants of Despair, they use their ultimate talents to spread despair in unique ways, from building weapons of mass destruction, aiding other subsidiary groups of despair, to tyrannical takeovers of certain parts of the world.
Anyways, Makoto manages to rehabilitate them in SDR2, and its a happily ever after for them as reformed, wanted dead or alive war criminals <3 But, a lot of what they did, with the exception of Nagito, is left up in the air for us fans to theorize about.
Speaking of Nagito, let's talk about Servant first. Nagito basically became a single father as a Remnant. As Servant, Nagito's job is to watch over and aid the Warriors of Hope, consisting of Masaru Daimon, Jataro Kemuri, Kotoko Utsugi, Nagisa Shingetsu, and Monaca Towa. He's the only Remnant that we really get to see in action, being a pivotal character in Ultra Despair Girls.
Nagito is unique from the rest of the Remnants in many ways. He's not expressly violent like many of them are, preferring to be more manipulative in his methods. Despite his title, he pulls the strings of a lot of things that happen in UDG. When he's not making milkshakes for those tyrannical little gremlins, or being outed by Kurokuma, he's blackmailing and kidnapping members of the Future Foundation, like Toko and Byakuya respectively. He's tricking the kids, working under the guise of being subservient to them and their want to create a paradise for children, instead working with Monaca to bring about Junko's successor.
He also has a very strange relationship when it comes to Junko. While a lot of the others seem to view her as their leader, he hates her with every ounce of his being. That's the entire reason he's working to bring a form of her back after her death. The idea of her being alive once again causes him intense despair. He even says that he's jealous of Makoto, because he wanted to be the one to kill Junko himself. He despises her for turning everyone away from hope, including himself. But, he also still seems to have some kind of twisted appreciation for her as well, stating that she's the woman he loves and hates the most. After the plan to create Junko's successor falls through in UDG, he decides to raise Monaca to be Junko's successor herself, stating that because he loves and hates her so much, he can recreate her perfectly.
Nagito's also one of the three Remnants who actually scavenged from Junko's dead body, the other two being Mikan and Fuyuhiko. Nagito took Junko's arm, replacing his own with it. Looking at it causes him despair, since now she's stuck as a part of him. It's unclear what else he did, but we know he was just as, if not more, overzealous about it as he is about hope. It's his maniacal nature that manages to turn Monaca off from despair in the anime, saying that she'd rather not end up as crazy as him. For a character who was so determined to usher in a new era of despair, the fact that Nagito was too crazy even for her, speaks volumes. Don't worry, these other sections won't be as long, since there's not much info about them besides fanon.
Next up, Kazuichi Souda. The only bit of real content we get of him is a small compilation in one of the episodes, showing him working on a large Monokuma robot. This Monokuma robot was featured in the end of Ultra Despair Girls, nicknamed 'Big Bang Monokuma' by everyone's LEAST FAVORITE CHARACTER, Haiji Towa. Haiji is nasty, and if you like him, he's one of the characters I CANNOT see why you'd like him. Haiji likers, DNI.
Anyways, aside from working on Big Bang Monokuma, it can also be inferred that he would go out with weapons and either supply or fire them in crowded areas. After all, there's only one character we know of who would match the dude in the beanie.
I personally believe that Kazuichi was mainly responsible for two major things. The different Monokumas that can be found around Towa City, such as Ball and Junk Monokuma, and the executions from THH.
My biggest piece of evidence for that above claim, comes from Kazuichi's free time events, where he says that he wants to build the fastest motorcycle ever, even though he'd be too scared to ride it. Aside from being the only character in this lineup(apart from Izuru) who could feasibly make the executions, Mondo dies from a motorcycle that can go fast enough to liquify him.
Also, I think that each Remnant went against their personal life goals mentioned in the final episode of despair arc, to create maximum despair. They are asked to state what they want to do with their lives, and they say things like "solve all diseases", "create peace treaties", "increase animal welfare" etc. Kazuichi says that his personal goal is to eliminate all pollution from the atmosphere, so I think he'd be responsible for polluting the air even more, dumping oil in the seas. He is the reason the sky is red, and why Hope's Peak needs an air purifier for the participants in that game. Poor guy, when he's not simping for Sonia, he seems like an actually pretty chill person to be around, especially in those final episodes.
Speaking of Sonia's simps, next is Gundham. We see him in that compilation, surrounded by all sorts of animals. Snakes, elephants, giraffes, you name it. Though, notably, the Four Dark Devas/Twelve Zodiac Generals (all hamsters, the devas are part of the twelve), are absent from the line up.
It can be deduced that Gundham released dangerous animals from zoos and sanctuaries, letting them run amok through major cities. He managed to rally the animals together, training them to be very destructive, and ultimately uses them in battles against the Future Foundation.
Gundham doesn't have anything he sets out to do with his life, at least nothing he voices in the final episode, so maybe he wanted to create a safe place for animals to live happily, and weaponizing them would cause him despair.
To explain away the disappearance of his hamsters, I think he released them as a final act of humanity and care for them. I think he knew that he'd be mistreating all the animals he held dear, and he wanted to give the hamsters a chance to escape. ESPECIALLY if he's going to be having snakes and birds around them, that's a recipe for the hamsters to be eaten.
I feel very bad for Mikan. She was the first one that fell to Junko's influence, the first one to be rewritten in such a way. She even watches the video a second time, which means she's probably one of the most far gone.
Like Nagito, Mikan is one of the three Remnants who took a body part from Junko's corpse. She took her uterus, and replaced her own with it, in hope's of carrying on Junko's legacy. She's also the one who probably attached the arm to Nagito, and the eye to Fuyuhiko.
In the final episode, Mikan says she wants to create a miracle cure for all diseases. As such, I can see her poisoning medical supplies, much like the real-life Tylenol Murders. She would probably hurt those who are sick and weak, and quite possibly experimented on people. As a medical professional, she was probably responsible for making sure the Remnants who frequented active combat against the Future Foundation were healthy and in peak condition.
I've also seen some people say she probably worked on ways to brainwash people through chemicals, and likely used captured Future Foundation soldiers as test subjects.
Akane and Nekomaru are the fighters of the group. They go out, and their main job is to cause as much stress for the Future Foundation as humanly possible. They're both heavy hitters, and that'd definitely be a hard thing for the Future Foundation to beat.
Akane's goal for her life simply boiled down to eating her fill of food, while Nekomaru said he would support everyone's dreams. I think he may have acted as support for the other's plans, kind of freelance depending on which Remnant required his services at the time.
We know one of the Remnants starved themselves, I believe it was Akane. Food brought her joy, so to cause despair she limited herself. In the anime, she's seen with abs, but I think they were just scared of showing her ribs. It's honestly a wonder that she would be able to fight at all. She fights with everything she's got, running off of despair, spite and mania.
Fuyuhiko and Peko occupy a similar area as Akane and Nekomaru. In fact, I think Nekomaru and Akane probably partnered with or joined Fuyuhiko's group of soldiers. All four of them fight against the Future Foundation, keeping their field agents on their toes and actively fighting against any sort of helpful effort by them.
In the final episode, Fuyuhiko says that he and Peko will lead the people in the Kuzuryu Clan down the right path, since he doesn't want to keep perpetuating violence. He wants them to get good educations and lead good lives. Peko says that she'd never kill again. For Peko to be actively fighting in battles across Japan, means she's actively causing the pain she didn't want to. Peko wants to be seen as more approachable, so to be one of the main Remnants in charge of causing chaos must be awful for her. For Fuyuhiko to take a step back and use the people in his clan to cause despair, he's also violating his life goals, and his want to not be reliant on the Kuzuryu Clan. It's the same reason he wants a degree of separation between himself and Peko in SDR2. He doesn't want to be seen as weaker, and he doesn't want to use the people around him.
Imposter is definitely an enigma character. There isn't much information about them when they're not in disguise as either Byakuya or Ryota (who deserves his own post, what I have to say may be a hot take). You can infer though, that they're actually a very caring person. When they notice Ryota engaging in unhealthy behaviors, they make sure that he eats and sleeps when required, and assumes his identity to give him a break. You can also see it in-game, where the more you hang out with them, the less they act like Byakuya, and more like a kind leader figure. Personally, I call Imposter Touya, since it sounds like a combo of "Two" and "Byakuya", and people already call them Twogami. It also means ''all the more, increasingly'' like their talent.
In the final episode, they aren't in disguise as anyone, and they say that they could become anyone they want, including the president. There's a strong desire within them to become their own person, to be seen for who they are, and not as the person they're impersonating.
It's intriguing, as in Remnant form, they're dressed like Byakuya. I think that Touya assumes the identities of various important figures in society, and infiltrates certain organizations whilst doing so. Since they're currently acting as Byakuya, I think Touya has infiltrated what's left of Togami Corporation, and is working to destroy their reputation. Maybe after Byakuya joins the Future Foundation, Touya tries to make it look like he's betraying them during different missions. Maybe that's why he's never out in the field unless it's absolutely necessary.
Teruteru Hanamura. I think there's a consensus on what we all agree he did while under despair. In the final episode, he says that he will feed everyone tons of nutritious food, and end world hunger. On top of that, he's someone who values his family a lot, especially his mother and siblings.
Teruteru is implied to use drugs in his food to make it taste better. It's an already disturbing theme with the food-oriented ultimates, with Ruruka using Seiko (the Ultimate Pharmacist) to enhance her sweets. In Teruteru's free time events, he feeds Hajime a simple rice ball, and Hajime leaves that interaction feeling like he's been drugged from how drowsy he is. Teruteru also keeps drugs around his food normally, evidence being the infamous soup scene. He may have poisoned his food, or used certain drugs to manipulate people to do bad things while in a weakened state of mind.
There's also an almost mutual agreement that I've seen in the fanbase, that he possibly turned his family into food. For how much he values them, I could definitely see that happening as a possibility, and it's such a terrible thought. For the life of me, I hope that isn't the case, and that Teruteru's mom and siblings are still out there in the world, ready to reunite with him once things have cooled down.
I've lumped Sonia and Mahiru together because this is the only picture of Mahiru as a Remnant. Anyways, starting with Mahiru, I think she traveled across the world, taking pictures of all the destruction and carnage as a result of the Tragedy. She likely also blackmailed high ranking officials and celebrities, bringing them under the thumb of Ultimate Despair and granting them more power over the general population.
In her free time events, Mahiru states that her mother was a war photographer. Her mom would go to scenes of destruction, take pictures, and sell them to news outlets. Mahiru says that, while she respects her mother, she doesn't want to take pictures of war. She wants to capture people's smiles and happy scenes of people living their lives. Going around and taking those sorts of pictures amidst the worst event in human history would definitely cause Mahiru despair. That can be seen in the picture as well, taking pictures of Sonia, likely declaring war or commencing public executions in her kingdom of Novoselic.
At the end of the final episode, Sonia says that she wants to make Novoselic into a peaceful kingdom, one with no wars. Once she becomes a Remnant, she forces her people to commit mass suicide, declares war on nearby countries, and executes people in her own country, supposedly including her parents so she may have sole power. The people who do not die in her initial takeover are likely added to the Novoselic army, serving under her and for her every whim. For someone who wanted to be seen as an equal by her peers, and not treated differently for her status, I can see her feeling very upset with herself knowing that she ruled her kingdom with tyranny and terror, and made people treat her as such a higher power.
Next is the girl group duo, Ibuki and Hiyoko. I think their combined abilities probably made the other's very potent, and its an interesting team-up. They aren't shown doing anything too bad, merely putting on an evil concert.
In the final episode, Ibuki says she wants to use her music to spread happiness, while Hiyoko says she wants to use dance to spread joy.
I don't really know what they would've done to spread despair. Maybe Hiyoko hit the griddy and it made people very upset. In actuality, I believe that Hiyoko probably employed methods similar to snake charmers, and managed to work in some form of hypnosis into her performances. That would be able to turn the masses against one another, and against other people.
Ibuki, on the other hand, definitely worked subliminal messages into her music, causing people to perform certain actions or think certain things for despair. Swifties but evil. Her music was probably also engineered to cause the most discomfort, with screeching guitar riffs and loud drums. Headaches and injuries would be prevalent at their concerts. I can also see Ibuki just smashing her guitar and wielding it as a weapon if facing off against Future Foundation members.
You can even hear a sample of her music on Spotify, since in the final episode of the anime, the rehabilitated Remnants go to help the trapped Future Foundation members, and she plays a song to incapacitate the brainwashed Future Foundation members. Listen if you dare!
youtube
It's finally time to talk about my BOY! I want to save some of my thoughts for his own post, and I honestly think this post is getting very long. For context, I started writing at 3pm, and it's now 10pm. Granted, I watched a movie and did some homework, but that's not the point here. I don't classify Izuru as a Remnant of Despair. I know he is one, but his circumstances are different. To understand Izuru, we need to start with Hajime.
Hajime starts the series as a reserve course student, someone with no talent, yet he idolizes Hope's Peak. He wants to be an ultimate so badly, that he'd do almost anything to do so. He has a bad habit of comparing himself to other people around him, basing his self-worth against theirs. So, in a school full of exceptional people, he's at an all time low. He has no friends, and feels like his goal is out of his reach. For as much as he wants to be an ultimate, we never get an idea of what he wants his ultimate to be. He has no plans for what it is, all he knows is he wants one. To feel important. To feel special. Because he doesn't see himself as anyone of worth.
He is approached by a group called the Steering Committee, which Tengan is loosely involved with. They propose the Kamukura Project to him, which is meant to give him a talent. He obviously really like this idea, but the idea of getting a talent artificially rubs him the wrong way. It's unknown if his parents know what's been proposed to him. One day, thinking by the fountain, he meets Chiaki, and they quickly become friends, bonding over video games. After that, they meet up regularly to game and talk by the fountain. One day, Fuyuhiko's little sister, Natsumi, ends up in his class, and he briefly meets her. Towards the end of the day, he finds her crying by herself, saying that she wants to be seen as the Ultimate Little Sister because Fuyuhiko only deserves the best in his life. Hajime starts to apply this to his friendship with Chiaki, believing he's not worthy of being her friend.
Still, he tries to keep his chin up and not let it bother him. He's hard-headed and hasn't been broken down yet. That's shattered when he tries to go to the ultimates course building for an important question (WATCH THE ANIME) and he gets beat up by Juzo. That very day, he meets with Chiaki, tells her to make tons of memories and have lots of fun for him, and then on, they never see each other again.
He accepts the Kamukura Project, and they begin at once. In the anime, it's done as a very quick procedure, but in real life, it'd be months and months of surgeries, mental conditioning, and medical tests. Soon, Hajime is completely erased from his mind, and is replaced by a figurative blank slate they name Izuru Kamukura. Interestingly, they call him Izuru Kamukura 1.0, implying there were supposed to be more after him. He was essentially a beta test, one that likely wasn't meant to make it this far. They likely expected him to die from the experimental procedures.
He is left on his own for days on end, until eventually Junko finds out about him. Her and Mukuro go to his little room, and try to get him to join despair. He initially declines, not seeing the purpose behind doing so. They invite him to the student council killing game, and there he feels some semblance of an emotion, so he continues. He is there, lurking in the background for many subsequent scenes.
The scene that is most important is Chiaki's death. She dies slowly in that scene, and Izuru is there, watching her. She recognizes him, reaching out towards him because he was her friend. At her death, he finds himself actually feeling something.
He's crying. Something he didn't think was possible. It is unknown if Hajime's repressed pain and despair was so powerful that it was finally felt in this moment, or if Izuru was just intrigued and confused by the idea of someone using their last moments to reach out to him. Nevertheless, he sticks with Junko's plans for despair, and is the reason she even ends up in SDR2. He's still effected by Chiaki's death long after this scene, expressing what can be confused for anger at the end of UDG when Junko starts to mock the way she'd greet him. He rips the wiring out of Shirokuma and Kurokuma's heads, taking only what he needs for the plan.
Izuru wasn't brainwashed, at least, not by Junko. The Kamukura Project deserves it's own post, but here's the rundown. He is supposed to be the Ultimate Everything, in peak physical and mental form. The surgeries needed to give him the strength capacity for the athletic ultimates would've involved breaking every bone in his body and rebuilding him from there, strengthening him enough to be able to launch Mukuro across the room with a flick of his hand. He would be injected with a cocktail of chemicals, made to increase mental abilities like memory, and possibly growth hormones for certain aspects of his body. That would explain why his hair is so incredibly long and dark, and why his eyes are red.
On the mental front, yes, he'd undergo numerous brain surgeries. Likely around the hippocampus and amygdala, they'd sever connections related to his original identity, which would also damage his ability to feel. Your emotional receptors are in those areas, and maybe ruining those sections were by design. After all, Hope's Peak is shady, and maybe they were trying to create some kind of unfeeling superweapon. Theory for another day. They left him near emotionless, with all the logical processing needed to complete any task needed, like a robot. They left him purposeless, craving entertainment of any kind. This makes him easier to use, easier to employ as a tool. If he is lacking purpose, he'd do anything you ask in order to feel anything other than emptiness. This is something Junko appeals to, since despair would be unpredictable and exciting for him.
I think he grows bored quickly, since after a while, anarchy becomes its own kind of order. There is still humanity in Izuru, he holds onto Chiaki's hairpin, and when Makoto finds him, he's nurturing a flower.
This scene is part of the reason why Makoto believes the Remnants are able to be saved. An unfeeling, despair-ridden monster wouldn't take the time to be so kind to something as small as a flower.
This scene is so moving when you watch it.
I think as a "Remnant", Izuru was merely an observer. I don't think he did anything except watch, only intervening when he felt it'd provide him some entertainment. Once he got bored, and only had Junko's USB stick plan, he'd probably find some way to make it easier for Makoto get everyone together, if only to enact that plan for that final bit of entertainment.
Is it obvious that I love Izuru?
youtube
Original Creator: Jayce Jole on YouTube
I spent a while learning psychology, and it's always been a big interest for me. Like with the factors pertaining to Izuru, the Remnants also have unique traits that explain why they act the way they act.
They were brainwashed by the subliminal messages that Ryota and Junko had placed in the video, that's why they're so deep in despair. But what is brainwashing? Brainwashing is a form of mental conditioning, that can essentially reprogram the mind to adopt radically different beliefs, ideas, and morals to the ones already carried by the victim. Brainwashing is not mind control, but it's conditioning.
They had their morals completely rewritten to align with Junko and despair. That's part of the reason I think Nagito is as different as he is. I think hope was such an engrained value within him, that he still holds onto despite his despair. The mental reprogramming is in constant conflict with his closely held beliefs.
There are many real examples of brainwashing, most notably within cults and real-life criminal organizations. They take advantage of vulnerable people, and make them change everything about themselves to align with these new ideas. Junko took advantage of their grief over seeing Chiaki die so gruesomely, and changed them fundamentally. They are not inherently evil people, they were not mind controlled into being evil people. They are people who were taken advantage of and conditioned into going against who they were. It's so saddening, they're teenagers, teenagers who should be going into job fields and colleges and living their lives, instead of terrorizing the world. Grief is a powerful, yet human emotion, and it's one that was easily controlled and manipulated by Junko. That's why Makoto took a chance on them as well. He didn't see the terrible people they had been turned into, he saw the hurt, grieving people underneath and wanted to help them.
It's also sickening how Junko only did all this so the Tragedy would carry on while she was masterminding the Hope's Peak killing game. The Remnants are nothing more than a backup plan to her, people she views as "not useful". They only exist to keep spreading despair while she is away, and that's sickening. She brainwashed them and not her own class, BECAUSE she doesn't value the Remnants. She cared about her classmates, so she wanted to feel the despair of watching them suffer. She merely saw the Remnants as tools, ruined their lives just for her own benefit.
I think there could have been an entire anime arc about them. Show Makoto, or Ryota, or some other character trying to rehabilitate them. How did they manage to track them down, and bring them to Jabberwock Island without dying or being discovered by the Future Foundation? How did they manage to stabilize them enough mentally to enter the Neo World Program? How did Izuru manage to get that USB stick past whoever was helping them? What were they like after waking up from the NWP with all their progress erased? If the survivors were normal, how did they handle seeing their friends in such a state? What impact did they do to the world? They could provide a clearer image of the Tragedy itself, which isn't really explored past Towa City, and even Towa City has only just recently been affected by the Tragedy. I think there's so much to explore, and so little attention actually given to them.
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SEND ME YOUR ART, YOUR HEADCANONS, YOUR FICS, YOUR CONFESSIONS, YOUR PSYCHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS OF THE REMNANTS! I WILL EAT THEM UP LIKE I AM STARVED! I WILL SUP FROM THE WELL OF FANON AS IF IT IS THE FIRST DRINK OF WATER I'VE HAD IN DECADES! I NEED TO CONSUME EVERY BIT OF MEDIA ABOUT THEM!
I'm so normal, I'm so normal, I'm so normal, I'm so normal-
Anyways, after Dangantober is over, I may introduce my Danganronpa OC to this blog (not as a roleplay thing, but just to yap about him). Mainly, he's a former classmate of theirs, and he's part of their rehabilitation process because I NEED to chew on it like I'm teething.
Here is an edit I made of Chisa Yukizome, and the Remnants (it's short, it was my first one), to a Miss Delight edit audio. Please enjoy it, I was so proud when I finished it <3
Is it obvious now just how much I love the Remnants? They NEEDED more screentime, I'm not kidding on that front. Imagine everything that could've been explored, how much of their actions was the brainwashing, and how much was them acting out in twisted grief?
What did each person do while under despair? Was any guilt felt? How did they react after being rehabilitated? How are they living now with the knowledge of what they've done?
They were just grieving kids, kids who were taken advantage of and used for evil purposes. But I also agree that the Remnants are not blameless in their actions. They must live with this guilt forever, constantly on the run for what they've done, and yet, they have each other.
When I found out that UDG was SUPPOSED to be about facing the Remnants of Despair as either Makoto or Komaru, before it was changed to be the WOH, I was UPSET! Someone, PLEASE MAKE THAT A REAL GAME, I'D PAY YOU EVERYTHING IN MY WALLET AND BANK ACCOUNTS!
Make merch of the Remnants, all of them, not just the Servant pop-up parade and Izuru plushie.
#danganronpa#dangantober#remnants of despair#danganronpa 2#sdr2#Youtube#izuru kamukura#nagito komaeda#chiaki nanami#servant nagito#hajime hinata#kazuichi souda#gundham tanaka#sonia nevermind#fuyuhiko kuzuryu#peko pekoyama#nekomaru nidai#teruteru hanamura#ultimate imposter#ryota mitarai#mahiru koizumi#hiyoko saionji#ibuki mioda#mikan tsumiki#junko enoshima#mukuro ikusaba#chisa yukizome
58 notes
·
View notes
Note
From what I’ve know, the fandom mostly dislikes Andrey for reasons related to Chloe (bad mother etc.), but what are YOUR reasons for not liking her?
Cuz she's an asshole? On top of being qualified for the Top 3 Never Should've Been Parents to Begin With Award (next to Gabriel and Tomoe), she's an elitist dick waffle without any on screen talent to back it up. So she's a fashion critic. So what? What makes her qualified, have you seen her outfit? And I just have a special hate boner for people who look down on the service industry, so she already wasn't winning any awards for "firing" people left and right.
Meta-wise, I hate her because she just confuses things. "Despair Bear" makes it out that Audrey abandoned the Bourgeois when Chloe was small, though at least old enough to remember, so maybe at minimum 3 years old, though in a sensible universe, closer to 5 or 6. Yet despite being absent from Chloe's life for about a decade, if not more, we're supposed to believe Chloe is the way she is because she's emulating her mother...who isn't there to emulate? Okay. Sure Jan.
Totally unnecessary, Chloe's personality has a good foundation in the fact that her father is rich, powerful, and ready to drop everything to cater to her every petty whim. What does Audrey even add to Chloe's story as presented? Personally, I would've liked it more if Chloe deeply resented her mother and was determined to prove she was BETTER than Audrey. Then have her be frustrated and pissed off every time the two of them are accidentally in sync. Show me a love-hate relationship, at least that would've been interesting, and better yet, would've had something to say about a parent abandoning their child.
But the show just sorta soft balls it. Chloe and Audrey immediately "resolve" a lifetime of abandonment issues because another 14 year old pointed out that they both suck and the two bonded over the fact that she's...right? Audrey decides Chloe's name is worth remembering, she's worth staying in Paris for, and she's "exceptional" in less than 3 minutes because Chloe yelled at the Butler. And for the rest of the series, Audrey is just another Chloe-Patsy, doting on her like her Dad in "Malediktator", cowering under her outburst in "Sole Crusher", and acting as her enforcer when Andre ever puts up a fight. A duo made in hell, but they ARE getting along.
Which makes the leaks for how they're going to end things for the two are confusing.
I don't like Audrey because she was made to be unlikable, but I also don't like Audrey because of her effect on the story. She's used to excuse Chloe being The Worst because look! An Even Worse person! And she made Chloe sad! So you should ignore those several felonies Chloe's committed because her mommy sucks! Nevermind that Chloe and Audrey get along just fine now!
And on top of that, she's used to excuse Andre. Andre, who spoiled Chloe from the beginning, who acts as her attack dog when Chloe cries wolf, who's taught Chloe how to lie, cheat, steal, and bully her way to the top. Somehow HE is getting off scott-free now because He CaN'T bE a DirEcTor aNd fUlFiLL hiS dReAm cUz HiS wIfe'S a BiG meAnIE. Even though Chloe is mostly his fault.
Why couldn't Audrey just stay in New York so we can pretend she doesn't exist and just let Chloe's behavior make sense like it did back in Season 1?
919 notes
·
View notes
Note
This is my last request and I hope you enjoy your holiday. May I request for more Yandere platonic Nanami wherein he yells at their darling one day and so they decide to hide from him inside the house and Nanami foolishly thinks they escaped. They only come out after hearing the commotion
Ohhhh great! More characters! I like this, thanks for the Request!
Platonic Yandere Nanami and Reader: Hide and seek
Kento had had a bad day, a pretty bad one, leaving him irritable and definitely not wanting to do much. Simply arrive and spend time with (Reader).
But that was no excuse for what happened next.
(Reader) had already become quite accustomed to the... lifestyle that Kento forced made them maintain for their safety and protection, however they was still a young person, they was still learning things--
So there was no way they knew that resuming a small argument they had earlier and that they WANTED to finish(about the sorcery academy, above all.Even after the events in Kyoto and Geto, they wanted to return to the academy when what was the point? Those from their year had been expelled. Did they expect them to be sent alone? no way) would have been the straw that broke the little calm left in the man. Ending the interaction with a single, forceful scream at them.
Kento didn't mean to yell or sound abrupt, but all the built-up tension of the day, the overtime, and the fact that he just wanted to rest and not deal with anything else made him not realize that Reader was not only startled, but was made backwards, in fear...
no again...
Kento had already been through this at the beginning, when he first brought them home, how they would stay away from him, how they would be startled when he tried to get close or give them affection, how many times they tried to escape from home...the punishments that followed--
Everything had been worth it until now, they were finally accepting him as a father, loving him back, seeing him in a similar way to when he supervised them at the academy--
and he ruined it.
and now he paid the price.
He promises himself that when he returns from this shift, he would make it up to them for yesterday (already hoping that they would want to leave their room by that time) and thus fix things and not start from scratch again.
What he didn't expect when he returned was to realize that he had left the door unlocked... and he felt the little color he had in his face drain away...
He quickly entered and checked readers's room, it was open, there was no one, he went to his room, nothing, he left his bed, nothing, there was no one in the kitchen or the living room, he removed everything, he made a big mess and nothing.
and since they had behaved so well he had turned off the security cameras for a while. so if they had left he had no idea where they went....
Reader had fled, all because of him.
All the possible scenarios began to appear in his head, what would happen if they ran into some curse? They had gotten too used to fighting because they were living with him, they would be defenseless! They hadn't even properly healed from the events of last year! or being alone out there, in Japan, hungry, cold, with all the depraved people out there...
Should he ask the other sorcerers for help? But what happens if they see the relationship he has with Reader in a bad way? Or what if Gojo found out that he was keeping them locked up when he told him to stay away from them? What if he told the normal authorities? They would misinterpret everything and want to take them away from him! Or worse! Return them to the academy where they would run more danger!
Kento started to panic, he got on his knees, pulled his hair and, like yesterday, let out a scream of pure frustration at the situation, but with many more emotions than just anger.
despair, sadness, fear, uncertainty--
That's when he heard it.
like something was moving in his room.
Even if he searched for Reader in depth throughout his entire apartment, he did not search in places that, out of mere habit, he did not see because they were obvious, such as the closet. and now he heard someone walking from his room to where he was (the living room, in a mess) and when that person appeared he realized... it was Reader.
They stared at him before letting out a small "I heard a lot of noise..."
Nanami was perplexed, but tried to compose himself quickly and act "normal" as he stood up and walked towards them with a slow step. He scared them once, he wouldn't do it again.
Kento was amazed that Reader had decided to just hide. Had they realized that the door was open? Was it some kind of plan? Or was it sincere? It didn't matter now.
Nanami could hardly hold back his tears when he got closer to their level to give them a hug while whispering what he feared most "...I thought you were gone...".
Fortunately, as they hugged him back, he realized that he wouldn't have to worry. They wouldn't leave.
He got them used to depending on him a lot, they love him, he knows it, deep down they love him as much as he loves them, they know that it is better here, that he does this for their own good, like a good father would. They won't leave him because they know there's no point in doing so...he will find them sooner or later...they didn't go through so much misery together to stop now...
They will be together.
He would make sure of it, from now on, no matter what happens.
Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!
#headcanons#neutral reader#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu no kaisen#platonic yandere nanami#yandere nanami x reader#yandere nanami#yandere nanami kento#jujutsu nanami#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#platonic nanami
213 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ayesha Liveblogs Spy x Family S1
"Proof that the foreign minister wears a toupée. I even have the negatives." "Well done. Now we can force him to resign." How could this possibly be enough to force a resignation? Is wearing a toupée a sign of dishonesty or shame in this cultural context??
"In an era in which the nations of the world were waging a fierce war of information just out of sight, this man survived the battlefield by being a master of disguise." Ooooh is this a historical anime? How fun!
Update from 1 minute later: The newspaper confirms this as a Cold War-era story!! Colour me intrigued
"Farewell. May you find happiness." What a polite end to such a callous breakup LMAO
Why does Donovan Desmond look so incredibly haunted LOL
"In order to achieve this [spy mission] you will get married and have a child." Ah, there we are with the premise!
Of all the spy strengths they've displayed thus far, I am most impressed with this blond man's ability to pull a newspaper apart without bending it. You must need to generate a lot of force:
"Yeah, sure. Take whichever one you want." This is about the average regard for orphans in Shonen Anime Societies
"This little girl happened to be a telepath." She's a WHAT NOW? What a casual way to introduce this fact
Honestly the random facts about what Anya likes and the bursting into tears with unclear motivation seems very much a realistic parent and child experience
"I just don't understand this irrational behaviour." I love how quickly Loid Forger aka Twilight, International Spy, has been foiled by this tiny, psychic child
Loid is approaching parenthood very casually so far. Surely a spy (pretending to be a psychologist, even) can recognize the psychological impact of abandonment on a child
Fjlkjfljflf what kind of society allows Loid to barricade his six (or maybe four) year-old child inside their apartment unsupervised all day LMAOOO
SCREAM not Anya immediately revealing their location from playing spy games. Also a very realistic problem to have
"Boss, I think we should just give up on the toupée." [Pulls out a gun and shoots him] "Transparency is essential in government. Toupées are a no-go." WHY ON EARTH ARE TOUPÉES THE ULTIMATE SPY PLOT DEVICE JFKJFJF
Love that the betrayal of the nation is SECOND to the toupée. They said: Wigs are for liars and cowards
"No one reached out their hand to save me. I felt alone, in despair, and so powerless all I could do was cry." We have unlocked Loid's parental instincts AND his tragic backstory in the span of 1 and a half minutes
"I'm a failure as a spy? No. My mistake was putting that little girl in danger to begin with. How could I forget? To create a world where children won't have to cry... That's why I became a spy." Alright Loid, colour me charmed:
Ahhhhhh I love Loid giving his enemy the chance to go back to his daughter instead of attacking him
Loid deciding to take Anya back with him despite all his misgivings bc he wants to give her a home 🥺💘 HE'S NICE
"Papa is a huge liar. But he's such a cool liar." Awww, Anya
I can see how being psychic and being able to hear every single child's confusion during a test would be distracting
"I... relaxed? What the hell is going on with me?" FATHERHOOD
"It is mandatory that the applicant attend with both parents. Absolutely no exceptions." For a society with such a cavalier approach to violence and orphans (at least where Loid goes), you'd think they'd be more accepting of single parents
Everyone's absolutely on Yor's ass for being a single 27-year-old. [Yor as Charlotte Lucas voice] I'm 27 years old. I have no money and no prospects. I'm already a burden to my brother—
"I have a client for you, Thorn Princess." Is Thorn Princess Yor's sleeper agent activation phrase? Her whole face darkened
Clearly Yor doesn't have the same violence-aversion as Loid:
Yor ready to fall in love with anyone who's nice to her. Mgkjgkg but same perhaps
"A spy...An assassin...? I'm... so excited!" [Narrator voiceover] "The little girl was straving for entertainment." The narrator's interjections are very funny
HAHAHAHA I love that they're both trying to fake date each other for very different reasons. Incredible, 10/10, love this
It's fun that Franky, spy gadget guy, is also now mission back-up
Also I take back everything I said about Loid's violence aversion
"I'll be sure to tell your brother that you came alone." Why is every woman that Yor works with (and, it seems, every woman with more than one line in this show thus far) seem to be so mean-spirited LOL
HFHLKHGLHGLGH Loid showing up to the party covered in blood and introducing himself as her husband when she needed a boyfriend. We love a spy who is terrible at his job
Loid managing to somehow make a really amazing impression on this party by being hot and defending Yor's past as a masseuse (murderer). GOOD FOR HIM
"The concussive recovery method is the latest in modern medical practices." Imagine going to your doctor for a prescription and having them kickbox you into submission LMAO
"Um, Loid-san, this may not be the best moment to ask, but why don't we get married?" SCREAMING AT YOR BEING THE ONE TO PROPOSE AND HOW KNOCKS THE WIND OUT OF LOID:
"No matter what hardships await us, let us be there for one another." [Explosions go off in the background] Colour me sold on this grenade-pin ring and spy-assassin romance
I love that they're going on a little family outing to prep for their interview
I can also understand how a political rally would be stressful for Anya
"I've completed countless missions, yet once again I find myself losing heart." Loid will eventually get used to his girls who are obssessed with nuts and knives 💞
All of them calling attention to themselves by helping an old lady deal with a purse snatcher ❣️ I love this family. I've only had the Forgers for two episodes but if anything happened to them I would [redact] everyone in this room and then myself
"I guess... receiving thanks every once in a while wouldn't hurt." "Papa is a softie." YEAH HE IS
"Papa and Mama are flirting." "No we are not!" HEE HEE
"Anya, are you going to be okay in this crowd?" Dad Mode Activated
Ohhhhhhh Anya helping the cow through her fear. Baby!!!!
OHGHGLGHLKGH setting aside how they managed to have at least three outfits in that suitcase, I really want to know how the quick change is happening in the middle of this cobblestone pathway to the school
"Why are you getting irritated, Loid? She's not even your real wife." I love that whenever someone makes an out-of-pocket insult to Yor (her coworker calling her a whore, this dorm master critiquing her lack of cooking) Loid jumps in and he's like, HEY, THAT'S MY WIFE
"My Papa and Mama are both so much fun, and I love them very much. I want to be with them forever." I also want this family to stay together forever, Anya 💗
Both Yor and Loid ready to fight this jerk for making their daughter cry!! I love them
The hope that Loid has because of his new family. This is really fulfilling a deepseated psychological need that I had to watch an anime that's just about a nice man
"He might just be the best spy in Westalis, so don't worry too much." With all due respect, that doesn't say much for the other spies, considering how suspiciously Loid acts everywhere he goes
Yor genuinely considering murdering someone to get her daughter into school 💝 Parenting!
"I appreciate the attempt at consolation, my elegant boy." This is how I will be responding to all attempts for someone to comfort me from now on
Loid just carrying a party popper around in his pocket for when Anya gets in. I LOVE HEEEM
Loid can waste government resources on a little play mission for his family. As a treat
"He's requesting agents. As many as possible," incredible how Loid immediately folds to his daughter's request to be attacked by enemies LMAOOO
HAHAHAHA Loid telling them in morse code it's an imperative part of Operation Strix, which is technically true, but not at all for any reason they would think
The way they're all like, "I will JUMP at the chance to attack Loid, been waiting my whole life for this," is also really fun
I was waiting for the spy costume. I am so glad it is a plot point
I can't decide what I enjoy more, Loid's blush over having to put on the costume mask, or the way the other spies are fangirling over him
Loid getting his butt kicked by Yor in this drunk roleplay does make me wonder if we're going to see that her assassination missions run contrary to his goals of peacekeeping
"I've come to save you, Princess Anya." "Papa!" "Wait, I'm supposed to be your dad in this?" AWWWW ANYA JUST WANTED TO HER DAD TO ACT OUT SAVING HER
In fairness to Anya's fear of kidnapping, she has been kidnapped before!
"Though, you're usually on the ball, so [discussing Operation Strix Phase 2] may not be necessary." "Well... I may actually be off my game lately." At least Loid's willing to own up to it LMAOOO
Firstly, what happened just now was definitely an attempted [redacted] crime, which is hideously uncalled for, what the fuck. But secondly: I love Yor and Anya bonding time
"I know it's really dangerous to be an Eden student now. But it won't be as scary if I train. I can do my best at school without dying!" I do love the idea of teaching this tiny child fighting techniques, but my god, what a thing to say
"Even if I can't be like a normal mother, I'm going to do everything I can for her." YOOOOOOOOOOOOR I love you
"She's already realized how amazing I am and fallen for me." Incredible confidence from Damian Desmond, Very Rich Six-Year-Old LMAO
"Mama, you liar. Smiling didn't help at all." I am very entertained by Anya's psychic child conflict management
Ffjhfkhfk I really do love the way that Anya tries her best to do things in a way that her parents would most approve of. Smiling first, trying to not get in trouble in front of the teacher when she punches Damian, claiming defence of a friend. She's a good kid!
What will Loid, who is not actually a psychologist, be doing during the day while Anya goes to school and his wife does her work. I hope it involves costumes
Update from 1 minute later: At the very least, it involves stalking elementary students from a rooftop
Update from 4 minutes later: IT DID INVOLVE COSTUMES!
Also. Also. How the hell would Loid's plan work if his daughter was NOT psychic. Like yeah yeah yeah, she knows she's supposed to be a good student. But it doesn't seem like he's explicitly told her out loud to be friends with Damian. So is he just hoping for her organic success? It's a good thing his baby knows exactly what he's thinking LMAO
I love that Becky has decided to be Anya's no. 1 supporter. She needs a friend!!
"Why do I find it so hard to speak when she's in front of me?" In a very expected turn of events, lil Damian has a crush:
"Plan B is done for." You are wrong Loid! Plan Befriend has simply turned to Plan Boy Has a Crush on Your Daughter
This at-home tutoring really resonates with my experience of being the child of Asian parents with high expectations when it comes to their children's innate talent for math
"No, Yor. You're not a stranger, nor part of someone else's family. Right now, you're the mother of the Forgers. I'm counting on you to provide whatever I'm lacking." AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I love the Forgers
I loveeee this parenting discussion around positive reinforcement
"I wonder what it'd feel like to have a real family," said Loid, tits deep in a family and fatherhood
"My sister got married?" I was waiting for this ball to drop. Can't wait!
NOT BABY BROTHER YURI BEING EMPLOYED BY THE TORTURE DEPARTMENT OF THE GOVERNMENT OMG
"[Twilight] is the villain who is trying to make this world fall into chaos. You could call him my natural enemy." NOT BABY BROTHER YURI ANNOUNCING HIS INTENTIONS TO MERC HIS BROTHER-IN-LAW WHO HE'S ABOUT TO MEET AT DINNER:
I gotta say, despite them introing with assassinations, I do feel like Yuri represents a drastic tone shift for this show
"Yuri... I mean, my younger brother is coming here today! [Loid's voice raises several octaves] "Today?" The voice crack was funny. Back to family shenanigans
As a sister. I AM SICK OF THE SISTER COMPLEX JOKES. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, BABY BROTHER YURI, ANIME AS A GENRE, AND WHATEVER JAPANESE SOCIETAL NORM THAT ALLOWS THIS TO BE A CONSTANT IN SO MANY DIFFERENT STORIES?
"What could my sister possibly like about this guy?! Just because he can cook a little, and he's handsome, and tall, and considerate, and a doctor," It sounds like Yuri is talking himself into having a crush on Loid????
Wow, Loid has made Yuri as an intelligence agent within like, mere minutes of meeting him. Maybe Loid is a great spy!
Ahhhh, so the reason Yor took up killing as a job was to put her little brother through school. How honourable!
"Kiss here and now." I can't decide if this is terrible or fun. Maybe both. My money is on Anya interrupting to see her Uncle
I do appreciate that Yor has never been kissed! It makes sense, given her murder job, and I feel like we don't often get 20somethings without prior entanglements
HDJHDKJDHDHD this is so unhinged and weird. Jesus. Yuri Briar puts the B in Behnchod
"Loid Forger. You may lay claim to my sister's lips for now." WHAT A THING TO SAY
"So, let's do everything we can to make sure Yor is happy." Loid is THE Husband. There are no other husbands, just him!
"Children are so curiously observant at times," said Loid, about his daughter who is literally telepathic
"It's a terrible idea to date a woman while deceiving her," said Loid, as if that has not been the premise of his ENTIRE romantic history thus far
I think Loid is starting to develop (romantic) feelings:
You know, I haven't really commented on the horn cap thing, but I do wonder if they are to do with Anya's powers rather than just a fun little design thing
I need you to see what I'm looking at when they tell me this is Bill Watkins, Age Six:
I do like all the montages of how all of these children (and Bill Watkins, Deeply Suspicious Age Six) were preparing for this dodgeball tournament
SCREAM THE CUT TO THE DRAGON BALL Z NAMEK BACKGROUND
Damian taking the dodgeball bullet for Anya. Love u little guy
Calling it right now, with all this lead-up, I don't think Anya's throw is going to work out the way she wants
Update from a few seconds later: Yep, that was correct!
Gnjghkgjhgkjhg Loid loves Anya too much to be strict with her so he is engaging in quite a permissive parenting style
ANYA TRYING TO SAVE THE LITTLE BOY FROM DROWNING WHEN SHE'S JUST A LITTLE GIRL HERSELF. SWEETEST BABY ALIVE
DAD'S HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ANYA EARNING HER FIRST STELLA! YEAH BABYGIRL
I like how they do a count of her Stellas (merit points which lead to the Imperial Scholar Society of Parent War Instigation) and Tonitrus Bolts (demerit points which lead to expulsion) whenever Anya gets closer to her goal
Also, bonkers that getting a Stella doesn't cancel out your Bolt? It's like, forgive, but never forget
Fhkhfkjfhfkjh Anya deciding she'll only respond to Starlight Anya. Very Six-Year-Old Behaviour
"Do you really think we go to some third-rate school that would hand out a Stella by mistake?" Damian continuing his chivalry streak
1) Extremely rude of the people to treat the dogs that way and 2) Does that big white dog's flash to the Forger family mean that we have unlocked a psychic puppy subplot?
I have been thinking since Damian was introduced that he and Anya are paralleling the Syaroan and Sakura Archetypes, but there is no greater Cardcaptor Sakura parallel than the fact this episode is called Penguin Park
"Please wait, Papa, who is a good and normal person." 10/10 spy deception Anya, no notes
Gghkhgkghkg Loid being yelled at by his Spy Juice Lady for not prioritizing this other mission. How does no one overhear this!!
"Mama, I'm being kidnapped," said Anya, as if she did not latch onto this spy herself to help out her dad's Penguin Mission
It's incredible how many of Loid's problems are solved just by him being hot:
Awwwwww I'm glad they did some actual family time after the Aquarium mission. Also I love how embarrassed Loid is every time has to do something silly, like pretending to be a Penguin Plushy for his kid, but how he'll immediately do it, even in public. Best dad!!
"Being both a Papa and an agent... must be tough balancing the two." Real and true, spy chauffeur
I love how they do parallel plots between family stuff and spy stuff. Anya looking for a puppy... Dad looking for bomb dogs!
They are in fact explaining the psychic puppy subplot
"It is far too early for Anya-san to get married!" Yor, I would like to study the way your mind works (also mom's here!!!!!!!!!!!!)
UHHHHHHHHHHHHHH EXTREMELY TRAUMATIZING FOR ANYA TO HAVE TO WATCH HER DAD'S IMMINENT DEATH BY EXPLOSION THROUGH DOG-O-VISION
That was an incredibly morose diatribe from The Handler, who is the only spy other than Loid to get a title/name
How is this baby supposed to disarm a bomb?!?!?!??
Ahhhh, by leaving a ketchup message for her dad on the door that says "NO! (Drawing of Bomb)" Of course! We love a girl who knows how to improvise
Dad has got back in the danger zone to stop the last of the Foreign Affairs Minister's terrorist threats, fair enough! I really hope they don't make him [redacted violence involving animal]
OH THANK GOD THEY HAD HIM ATTACK THE VEST AND NOT THE DOG—I WAS PRETTY CONFIDENT THEY WOULDN'T DO THAT TO LOID, BUT YOU NEVER KNOW WITH ANIME
From Yor's perspective, Loid has been in the bathroom for two full episodes
Yor kicking Keith the Radicalized Student Terrorist's car off the road after he has been discovered by Anya and foiled by Loid. We love a team effort!
"How many times must I tell you not to run off alone because it's dangerous?!" [Tearfully] "I'm sowwy." Awwww a very reasonable worry for your daughter who keeps running into every spy mission she possibly can
"I also had a daughter about her age." The Handler's tragic backstory unlocked?!
"Be prepared to take care of him until the end. I may have no right to say those words." Loid's dog care advice has accidentally turned into existential dread about adopting a child for the sake of a peacekeeping mission
Awwwwwww Yor taking cooking classes from her workplace enemy to be a better cook for her family
"Camilla-san has always been a nice person," said Yor, about the woman who called her a whore in front of a room full of people and tried to scald her with hot food on like Episode 2
"The more I savour each bite, the more I see my life flash before my eyes." Say what you will about Weird Brother Yuri, he is supportive
Admittedly this cooking lesson episode has made me like Camilla
HAHAHAHA the "They are whispering" caption so the viewer can understand why no one's reacting to the yelling about spy intel on Scruffy's potential lover
Awwwwwww Loid opting out of the family outing to comfort his little scruffy friend, who I have just re-learned is named Franky
LMAOOOOO at them just having Henderson-sensei do literally all of the classes. Top-tier writing
The Handler now has unlocked TWO new names, which are Sylvia Sherwood and Fullmetal Lady
"On the one day each month that Mister Moon goes away, Anya's power to read minds goes away too." Oooooh new psychic baby lore unlocked
Even though I don't care for Weird Brother Yuri, it is nice that Anya has someone outside of her parents to rely on for tutoring
Loid covering for Incompetent Spy Daybreak jkhfkhfkjhf
I love that Loid broke into the school, not to boost his daughter's grades, but rather to check that she didn't fail and leave it that way, and then reverse cheat (as in, undo someone's wrongdoing) to make sure two other students got their earned grades. What a man!
Ffljlfjjflkj Becky objectifying Anya's dad. I know they're six, but it's not a trope I love
"I was trying to report the cigarette I found, then he punched me." I know this is a scheme but what kind of society has SIX-YEAR-OLDS plausibly smoking???
"Second Son wouldn't do that! Anya was watching." Heck yeah Anya standing up for Damian (even though her Damian motives are decidedly ulterior LOL)
"Don't try to drag me into these adult matters in the first place!" An incredibly reasonable request from Damian
Gdljljggjglkj I love these kids telling Glooman 'Actually, the biggest problem is you have a bad personality' True and real and cutting
"Don't worry. The West is a safe place." ANYAAAA. Something something children and their ability to see people outside of the confines of politics
"There's saltwater pouring out of my eyes." The implication that George has not cried once in his six years of life LMAOOOO
Genuinely heartwarming to see all these kids singing for George and giving away their favourite school items for his sake (also I bet you $5 he doesn't actually have to quit this school)
Update from two minutes later: I was correct lol
I've been thinking about this since the hospital volunteering, but it is kind of a flaw in Loid's spy tactics to choose a public-facing job, because at any point someone could just walk into the hospital and realize he doesn't work there kjhgkjhgg like he should've just been some sort of private practice
Loid running home to "check on what Yor was doing at the school" but actually using it as an excuse to ask her on a lunch date <3
As if the show could psychically tell that I was wondering about it, they are now forcing Loid into a "Take Your Kid to Work Day" situation lmaooo
"[Loid] became an important part of our team as soon as he transferred in." How is Loid an important part of the staff if he's constantly out of hospital doing spy stuff??? How is he even capable of giving psychological care???
"To go with the rest of the facade, a number of my coworkers have also inflitrated this hospital." Ah, perhaps the fact he has a research position and other spies in the hospital is enough to cover his absences and maybe make him have fake patients
Honestly, it's a wonder Anya hasn't run into more problems in the spy realm recently other than getting stuck in a secret passage
HHGKJHGKJHGKJGH Loid taking Anya's improvised sandbox of toys as a sign of deep psychological distress
"He golfs at his workplace and creates shady channels." In every class there is one child who has the most chaotic possible interpretation of their parents' job (the kid who says their parent stabs people for money when really their parent is a tattoo artist) and Anya has decided to be that student
"But if Mrs. Forger just happened to retire, that position would have to be filled, would it not?" Why is Fiona so comically evil about getting to fake marry Loid
"But... this woman doesn't seem to have any flaws in her appearance." Even Father-snatcher Fiona Frost thinks Yor is hot
"To think the great Twilight is stuck playing house.. It's a disservice to the world." Loid said: Fuck you Fiona, I like playing house!
This silent spy standoff has certainly taken a turn:
I actually kind of love that Loid is faced with someone else who has feelings for him, because I KNOW for certain he will choose Yor, and I think that's good for Yor to see
"You're already working hard enough, Yor. That's why Anya is so fond of you. I couldn't ask you to do anything more." HE LOVES HERRRRR
I really resonate with Yor's Girls Who Are Bad At Stuff representation kjhgkgjh
"Agent Penguin suffered honourable injuries in battle." Loid sewing up his daughter's penguin stuffy and making up a backstory for their dog chewing him up ❤️ I love hiiiim
I appreciate that Fiona confirms from someone who knew him before Loid has been changed by love (for Yor and Anya)
NOT THE DOUBLE FAKE TENNIS COUPLE NAMES BEING TWAIN AND NAFALIA PHONY
Though, now that I think of it, I guess Loid's given last name is Forger, so really this is a pattern of very silly names
"We've been developing a new doping agent called OSO-R along with the government in preparation for the upcoming East-West Sports Exhibition." Every so often they dip back into the crime world, and today it's sports doping
"I wonder what her relationship with Loid is." Yor babygirl, you do not need to worry about her, Loid is fully Team Yor
I love this little look into all the different things that come up in an infiltration (having to be very good at specific things like tennis, dealing with potential poisons, compensating for traps)
"You're still young, and you're clearly talented. From now on, hone your craft properly. I'm sure you'll become an amazing player." "Twain, I'll really do my best from now on!" Aside from being an incredible professional tennis player, Loid's talents also include reforming his opponents into better people:
Fhfhfkjhfkfjhf Loid every time Fiona comes near Yor: Hey, please leave my wife alone
"Come at me with everything you've got." "Uh, don't, Fiona." Loid knows Yor has enough physical might to beat a hundred tennis players
Yor wanting Loid to praise her for winning the match 🥺❤️
Loid taking Yor on a reassurance date to let her know she's still #1
"Wait, does Yor have romantic feelings for me?!" TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH, BUT YOU GOT THERE, LOID
NOT LOID IMMEDIATELY SWITCHING TO PLAN HONEY TRAP AND YOR ACCIDENTALLY KICKING SOME SENSE TO HIM
"I can't let my guard down like that. Somehow, being with Yor throws me off." Loid, you stupid man, who can't see that him AND his wife have feelings for each other
"I would love for you to continue being Anya's mother. And to continue in the role of my wife." This is the most honest thing Loid has said in hours
Anya getting Becky a keychain because she didn't think she was allowed to get one for herself!! Sweet girl
What kind of father has ZERO time to interact with his son LMAO (Donovan Desmond, apparently)
"Anya's a little scared because she's not sure if Papa loves her or not. He always gets mad at me. But I believe in him because I love him." ANYAAAAAAAAAA
Papa Desmond and his truly haunting eyes finally make an on-screen appearance and meeting with Loid:
"Even the child that shares your blood is a stranger." Is this a general view from Donovan on his parent-child relationships or is this a shot at Loid for not being Anya's biological father?
"People will never be able to understand each other." What a thing to say about your six-year-old, who is standing right in front of you with his friends
"What's truly important is to continue walking them despite [not understanding each other]. I decided that I would accept her regardless, and I try to find every opportunity I can to talk to her." Loid laying spy ground work on top of challenging Donovan to be a better father. We love a man who can multitask
"I'm pretty sure she doesn't actually dislike you. It'd make me happy if you could be friends with her." "Well, I want to, too..." Gjhgjhgjhfjlfj Loid is also working on Operation Playdate
This has been a pretty delightful show so far. Spy x Family proving to everyone you can fight people AND be nice!!!!
#ayesha talks anime#liveblogging#ayesha liveblogs spy x family#spy x family#long post#sxf series#spy x family series#told you the next liveblog would be smth light-hearted!!#i haven't quite decided on a tag for this show yet#moqueueton#guns tw
166 notes
·
View notes
Text
Run Kitten... Run
Chapter 2: The N109 Zone
The world around you feels dark and claustrophobic. You can’t tell where your body begins and where the darkness ends as you struggle to stand on your feet. Everything around you feels like it's crashing down as buildings tumble into dust, the sweltering heat from sporadic fires lingering around and despair fills your lungs. Your head is pounding but you don’t have time to focus on that because your hands feel wet. Why are your hands wet?
A new scent fills your lungs, and you tightly hold your lips together to keep from vomiting. Iron. Looking down at your hands you let out a terrified shriek, your hands are covered in blood that doesn’t belong to you and there’s a knife with a bloody handle shoved into a wanderers chest in front of you. You just did something that could change the trajectory of your life, but you can’t remember. Why can’t you remember? What is going on? Why are you here?
Questions on top of questions fill your mind as you begin to hyperventilate. You don’t feel like you know who you are anymore. Are you a ghost living in a borrowed vessel? More questions and no answers. You feel like you are going crazy until a hand that’s rugged and comforting gently caresses your cheek to wipe away your tears as you close your eyes. When did you start crying? This hand feels bigger than your entire head with enough strength to crush your skull with little to no effort, but all you want to do is snuggle up against it.
“You did it… I’m… proud of you…”
The voice connected to this hand sounds inhuman and strained as if it's struggling to get out these simple words. Did you do something wrong? More questions and more questions race through your head as you peel your eyes back open and refocus your gaze on the creature in front of you. It… no… He is human. Or at least he was human before turning into this creature.
“W-What did I do? W-Who are–”
“I promise I’ll find you in our next li–”
__________________________________
Immediately you are jolted out of your sleep and take a frantic deep breath. Your lungs feel like they are still filled with smoke and each deep breath you take feels as if small cuts are slicing at your lungs. One side of your brain is logical and telling you that you are okay and just had a nightmare while the other side of your brain is irrational and yelling that you are still on a battlefield and can’t breathe. Deciding to listen to the logical side of your brain you close your eyes, you countdown from ten before reopening them and staring down at your chest. You are still dressed in your soiled hunter uniform that is clinging to your skin from sweating and is in desperate need of a wash, but you are no longer in the desolate woodland area.
Your interest is cut short, and you begin patting down your body in search for your hunter firearms and hunter watch, only to realize you have been placed in a random bed on top of satin sheets that feel like a cloud. Whose bed are you lying in? Focusing your eyes you scan the area of the bedroom you’ve been placed in and take in its opulent yet gothic elements. It is obvious that the owner of this bedroom has no issues spending money for the finer things in life. Taking another deep breath, you feel relieved that it doesn’t smell like misery and blood. Instead, the air smells like a mixture of gunpowder and cedarwood and there’s a soothing element to it. You’ve smelled this mixture before, but you aren’t sure when or where you’ve experienced it.
"Is she finally awake?"
"I think so."
The sound of two unfamiliar voices forces you to whip your head around to the shadowy left corner of the bedroom. Standing before you are two men masked in a disturbing looking crow mask. Swiftly you shift your eyes away from your captors and spot one of your hunter firearms sitting on a nearby table. Without thinking twice, you scramble from out of bed and reach for your gun before turning around and pointing it towards the unidentified duo.
“Who are you? And where the hell am I?!” You are still feeling the lingering effects of your nightmare, but you do your best to stand confidently in a defensive position. Within the last 24 hours it seems that your world has been turned upside down and you need to find your hunter watch to call for backup.
When you don’t receive an immediate answer from the two men you tighten your hold on your weapon and aim it for the masked men’s head standing to your left. “I asked you a question and I expect to receive an answer! Where am I and who are you?”
“Boss said you are feisty, but I didn’t think you would be like this.” Your patience is running thin as you listen to the masked man on the left complain underneath his breath before taking a cautious step forward and reaching out to grab the firearm in your hand. Instinctively you pull your hand and the gun away from the masked man, but he insists on reaching for your gun until he succeeds in snatching it out of your hands and tossing it onto the bed you were laying on. “Listen here little kitten, we have been given strict orders to keep you in this room. Don’t give us any trouble and go back to bed… or else we will force you back to bed.”
Although you can’t see the expressions of the men behind the mask, you can tell that the silent one to the right is rolling his eyes as he slaps his partner on the back of his head and lets out an annoyed groan. “Don’t say things like that, Luke. It makes it sound like we plan on doing weird things with her.”
“I didn’t mean it like that! Boss said to make sure we keep her in this room… I was going to bargain with her… I have candy in my pocket…”
“You are an idiot.”
“No, I’m not! You are an idiot!”
Clearing your throat, you redirect the attention of the two masked men back to you before rolling your eyes at them. Out of all the people that you could have been kidnapped by, you somehow end up with a duo that appears to share one brain cell. You aren’t sure what that says about your qualifications in being a hunter but that’s a self-examination for a later date. “Both of you are idiots. Now tell me where I am, who you are, and –” You pause as memories from last night flashes before your eyes. “Sylus…” You mumble silently to yourself before clearing your throat once again to refocus. “Tell me where Sylus is. Right now.”
At the mention of Sylus’ name both men square their shoulders and straighten their posture before ominously circling around you. This time the one on the right speaks up first, “Who we are is not important. Where you are is not important. And you have not been given permission to address our Boss by his first name. A measly hunter like you will address him as King of the Wanderers and nothing else.” Tilting your head back you focus all your attention on the masked man to the right. Compared to the one on the left, who you assume is named Luke, he looks like he takes his job somewhat seriously.
Thinking quickly on your feet you shift your attention back to Luke and advance towards him before pressing a demanding finger against his chest. “You are the one in charge here, right? Tell me everything I want to know, and I will comply with going back to bed.”
“I’m in charge?... I mean… yeah… Yeahhhhh, I am in charge here.” Hesitantly Luke looks between you and his partner before getting an ego boost and staring down at you once more. “My name is Luke, and this is my twin Kieran. You are currently in the N109 Zone inside of Bossman's base. Sylus is currently preoccupied in a business transaction, but he will be here –”
The sound of another harsh slap against Luke’s head echoes through the bedroom as Kieran reprimands his twin for effortlessly giving away valuable information. “Will you shut up! Why would you tell her that? Do you plan on giving her all our secrets?”
“She asked nicely!” Taking his eyes off you and whipping his head back to his twin, Luke rubs the back of his head to sooth the pulsating ache on his skull. “And she promised to go back to bed after getting her answers. Isn’t that right little kitten?”
By the time Luke and Kieran stopped bickering amongst themselves and remembered that they should be keeping an eye on you it was already too late. In the midst of their childish quarrelling, you snuck away to the door of the bedroom and effortlessly slipped out of it before silently tiptoeing through the soundless hallway. For such a massive property you are shocked to see that there aren’t any guards present, or you assume that there aren’t any guards present.
Calming the beating of your heart you continue walking through the halls of the estate and begin prying open different doors looking for an exit and for your hunter’s watch. While searching through the King of the Wanderers home you take a moment to replay the events that have led up until now. The last thing you remember is experiencing an excruciating pain in your chest as your Aether Core became agitated for some odd reason and caused your heart to pulsate in a way that mimicked a heart attack. You also remember that the sensation became worse when you looked into Sylus’ glowing right eye.
Throughout your time as a hunter, you have never seen someone’s eye glow before, and you have never seen someone with Evol powers use energy manipulation the way Sylus has. Feeling a shiver travel down your spine you remember how it felt to be bound by Sylus and wonder what it would feel like to be bound while he –
Shaking your head you furrow your brows together and wonder where such an explicit thought came from. From what you remember about Sylus he would fall under the category of being conventionally attractive… actually very attractive… but you have never been someone to lust after any attractive man outside of your three current lovers Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel who are waiting for your return home.
The moment you remember your other three lovers you let out a troublesome sigh and rub the temples of your head. Before leaving on this mission, you lied to all three men and promised you were taking on a simple wanderer mission and would return home in two days. “Ugh Zayne is going to kill me once he finds out about my heart, and I bet Xavier and Rafayel will gladly watch.”
“I’m unsure who Zayne, Xavier, or Rafayel is but I don’t plan on letting anyone lay a finger on you, sweetheart.”
Hearing Sylus’ velvety yet husky voice causes you to let out a small yelp before turning around on your heels and facing the King of the Wanderers. While searching through the estate for an escape you had been lost in thought about the consequences that await you when you return home you somehow wandered into his office. Steadying yourself you attempt to seem larger than life (you are not), as you cross your arms over your chest and stomp over to his desk with a defiant look of determination on your face. “How dare you kidnap me and bring me here! You are under arrest and will come back with me to Linkon City right this second!” You pause and let your eyes linger on his desk before taking note of your other missing hunter firearm and your hunter watch. “And give me my watch back!”
There is a long moment of since as Sylus simply stares at you with a look of discontentment that doesn’t reach his eyes. No, in his eyes you can see that there is something lingering behind those devilish red orbs. “I thought that allowing you to sleep in a comfortable bed after almost a week out in the wilderness would help rid you of your attitude and lack of manners. It seems that I was wrong.”
Ignoring his antagonizing words and inability to answer your questions whenever you ask, you decide to take matters into your own hands and attempt to swipe your hunter's watch from off his desk, but as soon as you reach your hand out a black and red tendril appears around your wrist and locks you in place. Not this again, you think quietly to yourself before glaring daggers at the man who is slowly becoming the bane of your existence. “Let me go and give me my watch! You are in clear violation of the Hunter A –”
“Yes, yes, I know all the rules you hunters must follow. Please spare me the rehearsed lecture.” You aren’t allowed to finish speaking and can feel your irritation growing because technically you have rehearsed these lines a million times in your mirror but that’s not something he should know. “No, I will not be giving your watch back and I will not be willingly accompanying you back to Linkon City. If you wish to leave you are free to go, Kitten. I can show you the exit if you would like.”
There it is, that pet name you can’t stand hearing coming from out of his pretty lips with that condescending tone. Pretty? Grimacing you feel another shiver travel down your spine before the tendril that is around your wrist vanishes. Taking a step back you glare at Sylus and your eyes drift down to his lips where you notice the cocky smirk that seems to grace his face. There’s a charged silence between the two of you as if he knew what you were thinking in that gorgeous head of yours.
Quickly you decide to look away from the red eyed devil of seduction and chew on your bottom lip while contemplating what your next move should be. After being away from Linkon City for so long you can’t return empty handed without a captive or a high ranked protocore. In the woods you had a moment of weakness willing to turn back around empty handed, but that moment died the second you were presented with the very real possibility of taking down the King of Wanderers and ending his reign of terror in the N109 Zone.
“It is awfully rude to look away when having a conversation with someone. Are you thinking about how you plan on taking me down, Kitten? Maybe you plan on manipulating me into doing your bidding or maybe you’ll put your feelings to the side and realize you have been used as a sweet little pawn in a game you don’t even know the rules to.” Shutting your eyes tightly you attempt to block out the sound of his voice and continue to mentally run through various scenarios to decide what you should do next. “Or is that beautiful mind of yours too busy thinking about what it would feel like to be bound to my bed like an exotic pet?”
Suddenly your eyes flip back open, and you can feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment. This man was bold and filled with arrogance, but that isn’t the most important aspect right now. Somehow, he can read your mind, or he is very… very good at making educated guesses. Coughing nervously into your fist you divert your eyes away from Sylus once more and stare at the bookcase behind his desk. Outside of your wonderful three lovers no other man has ever made you feel flustered and unable to focus the way this one has. And compared to your three lovers this man sitting in front of you is the opposite of what you are typically attracted to. He’s overly confident, rude, borders between being an asshole and a know it all, but he is also handsome and somewhat charming –
Again you find yourself shaking your head and trying to regain your focus even though your mind is fighting against you and is working overtime to think impure thoughts about the King of Wanderers. Remembering your mission and what you have been assigned to do you peel your eyes away from the bookcase and stare at Sylus directly into his fascinating red eyes. “What do you mean that I am a pawn in a game I don’t know the rules to?”
Sylus chuckles and shows off the dimple on the right side of his face before returning a look of intensity back to and speaking. “I see that you plan on skipping over what you truly desire an answer to… but no matter. As for being a pawn, you don’t find it odd that you, a rookie hunter with only a year of experience, was sent out on a mission to capture me by yourself without any back up?” He takes a moment to pause and lets his words linger in the air before leaning back in his chair and crossing his hands together over his chest. Unlike last night Sylus is dressed in a tight but comfortable grey sweatshirt that does a terrible job at hiding the outline of his large muscular frame and a pair of black slacks. “I run the entire N109 Zone by myself, and I control every wanderer that exists in a two-hundred-mile radius. How could you take me down alone?”
Because you spent the prior week dealing with the grief of losing the two most important people in your life you didn’t have time to sit down and breakdown all the elements of this mission before accepting it. And because you didn’t want to be persuaded out of taking this mission you didn’t discuss the main details of it with Zayne, Xavier, or Rafayel before taking it. Tara knew you would be out in the wilderness for a large majority of the mission, but she also didn’t know who you were sent to search for. The only person who knew every single aspect of this mission was Capitan Jenna, but she would ever allow you to take on a job you weren’t able to complete. Right? Why would she purposely put you in harm’s way?
Shifting nervously on your feet you rub your sweaty hands up and down your dirt-stained jeans before finally opening your mouth to speak again. “You’re lying. I am not a pawn. My Captain knew that I was qualified enough to bring you down by myself and so here I am. You will be coming back with me to Linkon City if you want to or not.”
At this Sylus can’t help but to chuckle so loudly you start to feel annoyed at the sound of his laughter and with no other words spoken he sends out his tendrils to capture you and bring you close to him. You aren’t sure how he is able to use his Evol so quickly and efficiently. When you are placed down onto his lap you let out a small whimper and feel what you assume to be a gun in his pocket lingering beneath you. Before you can look down Sylus gently grabs your chin and forces you to look deeply into his crimson eyes. “Kitten, you aren’t important enough for me to lie to you. I gain nothing from lying but I gain everything from telling you the truth and shattering that fragile reality of yours. You are nothing but an innocent pawn in a game that you don’t know how to play. But I can show you how to play.”
Because you refuse to accept what Sylus is saying you open your mouth ready to refute his claims but when you open your mouth no words come out. The longer your stare at his ruby orbs the deeper you feel yourself fall into an unbreakable trance and your stomach feels like it has been filled to the brim with a million fluttering butterflies. Your instincts are telling you to try and snatch your watch from off his desk once more and escape while you still can. But instead of listening to your instincts you reach one hand up and hesitantly place it on the skin beneath his right eye. “Y-You’re lying…” Your voice sounds foreign to your ears as you speak in a soft and meek tone.
“I told you sweetheart; I have no reason to lie to you.” In a deep and raspy voice, you listen to Sylus speak but it feels like every syllable that comes out of his pretty mouth sends shockwaves throughout your body. Leaning in close to your left ear a quiver travels down throughout your body when you feel his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. “You are still exhausted from your mission, Kitten. Allow me to pamper you the way you deserve, and I’ll answer any questions you may have.” You know you are being tempted with your hidden desires but right now you are unable to fight against anything. All you want to do is be wrapped in the embrace of this red eyed devil of seduction and deal with the consequences of your actions later.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lnds sylus#lnds zayne#lnds rafayel#lnds xavier#lnds smut#lnds x reader#lads sylus#lads zayne#lads xavier#lads rafayel#lads smut#lads fanfic#love and deepspace fanfic#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#zayne x reader#zayne x mc#xavier x reader#xavier x mc#rafayel x reader#rafayel x mc#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace zayne#love and deepspace xavier
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rekindle: Soulstring Symphony
Military | Male | Gay
2,400~words
Content: AU, time skips, soulmates, depression, longing, angst, bullet wound, mention of blood, bit of fluff, gay stuff, happy ending.
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley | John 'Soap' MacTavish
!!!SFW!!!
Everyone has a special someone out there in the world. Everyone is connected in their own way, and for John 'Soap' MacTavish, that's through song. Every time they sing, they can hear each other... until one day the songs stop and Soap is left alone and heartbroken. Thrusting himself into a military career, he eventually pushes the idea of finding his one-and-only out of his mind; until a mission goes wrong and he hears his soulmate once more.
(Based on Tweet below GIF)
THE LONGING
It was difficult sometimes, to wander the world alone. To see all the soulmates around you find their perfect person. Johnny wondered if he would find his soulmate one day too.
The memory of the songs haunted him now, but he remembered the first time he had heard them, been blessed by them. He had been asleep in his bed at his family home when the melody slowly crept into his dreams. The voice was rich and smooth, with a deepness that pieced his heart.
But when he woke, he could only remember the outro of the song.
Then one day, the songs stopped. He had wondered if maybe his soulmate had died suddenly; it had happened to other people, and it was a soul-crushing experience to know you'd spend the rest of your life alone. Disconnected. Halved.
...As the night surrenders to the dawn, and the stars begin to fade,
The echoes of our connection linger in the serenade.
A promise in each note, a vow in every line,
To find you in this lifetime, and forever call you mine...
Johnny had searched the library for old folks songs, and then eventually online, plugging the lyrics he remembered into search engines to come up empty. This was an original song, it seemed.
Johnny's journey began at home in Scotland. Guided by the knowledge that more than two thirds of all soulmates were born within a one thousand kilometre radius of each other.
That didn't stop people from moving away by any means, but it narrowed the search down to the Atlantic Ocean and the surrounding countries of the European Union. And he was pretty certain his soulmate wasn't in the ocean.
He travelled the misty highlands, the expansive coasts, and ancient castles seeking any clue that might lead him to his love. Town after town, and small villages were turned upside down in hopes of anything. But finding nothing that lead him closer to his soulmate, he moved on Ireland, then England; finding only a growing despair and loneliness in his heart.
Everywhere he travelled he found nothing but dead ends. There was nothing in Norway, except the picturesque scenery of the fjords. Denmark, while also another beautiful country to visit was just as barren of his soulmate as all the preceding locales. By the time he had reached the Netherlands, all he had was a dimming hope in his heart. In a quite place among the bulbs of the Keukenhof garden, Johnny took a seat under a tree and closed his eyes.
He took a deep breath and recalled the last bit of the song; not that it took much to remember, having been burned deep into his soul for so long.
In his deep voice, low as a whisper, he began to sing. To reach out to his soulmate in hopes of kindling a response.
Choking out the lyrics through the welling tears in his eyes, Johnny waited for a reply, anything to tell him that his soulmate was still out there somewhere. The maddening silence was the only answer he got in return.
...As the night surrenders to the dawn, and the stars begin to fade,
The echoes of our connection linger in the serenade.
A promise in each note, a vow in every line,
To find you in this lifetime, and forever call you mine...
“Please answer me, mo chridhe.” He whimpered.
Finding no peace or happiness among the trees and flowers of the garden, Johnny decided it was time to move on once more.
Without a reply to the song to guide him, Johnny felt lost. His heart was beginning to fracture on his way back home. Having used all of his savings, and not wanting go home to his family still alone, he was ready to enlist in the military and see where his life would take him. If he was destined to be alone now, the least he could do was feel like his life meant something. That he was doing something worthwhile. At least, that's how he sold it to himself.
But then something happened.
It was faint, almost like white noise in his head. It wasn't the song, not exactly... more like a longing that resonated deep from his soulmates heart. They were out there, close, but still far and beyond his reach. It was just an echo. A ghost.
“Mo chridhe...” He murmured into the window of the train car. “I'm here... you're not alone.”
And then, just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
It crushed him.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
ENLISTMENT & THE SAS
Prodigy is not a word tossed around so easily in the British military; but that's what Johnny was. Young, smart, motivated and able to out think and out manoeuvre his fellow soldiers.
This path left no room for distractions, let alone the notion of his soulmate still being out there and longing for him in return. Or so he lied to himself.
He was able to think outside the box and on the fly to complete tasks that most men thought were impossible. He couldn't deny that it went to his head. Johnny's mental health bore the weight of his relentless pursuit of perfection, to meet his astronomical and unreachable standards, and thrived on the positive feedback and praise from his superiors.
But added to the stress of his standards was the constant scrutiny from his fellow soldiers. While most of the enlisted men in the service became close comrades, it was something that was kept at an arms length for Johnny. No one wanted to be around the young, up-and-coming showoff – and smart ass – Scot.
Off-duty time was the only time where Johnny's focus wavered. With nothing to occupy his time, mind or hands, he was left to his thoughts; and those usually drifted to his loneliness. To dull the ache in his heart every night, Johnny would find a quiet and secluded spot on the base and would sing to himself and to his soulmate; who he prayed could still hear him.
“Mo chridhe... I wanna be the man who grows old with you.”
...When I'm lonely, well, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you
And when I'm dreaming, well, I know I'm gonna dream
I'm gonna dream about the time when I'm with you
When I go out (when I go out), well, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you
And when I come home (when I come home), yes, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home with you
I'm gonna be the man who's coming home with you...
Another night of singing, another night of silence in return.
The turning point in Johnny's career was when he aimed at the SAS, the best of the best, the elite. What Johnny wasn't aware of at the time was that the SAS had their sights set on him as well. They recognized the potential in him and valued his abilities to think beyond the military norms.
The process to be selected for the SAS was, in a word, gruelling. Johnny pushed himself to the limits of his physical and mental endurance. Yet in the forge of the SAS training program, he was able hone his skills and discover a deeper understanding of his own resilience.
Though it nearly broke him – in a different way than his loneliness had – Johnny managed to pass the selection process and found his new sense of purpose. The long climb through the ranks of the military quickly shifted, and his career felt like something he could celebrate. Along with the accomplishment of being among the elites, Johnny finally began to find brothers in arms, friends.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
MEETING THE GHOST
The hum of the engines drown nearly all other sounds out, even the rumbling engine of the approaching truck. Ghost was waiting on his SAS forces to arrive, and was not disappointed when one particular Sergeant hopped off the truck and jogged over to him.
“Save ya' a seat, LT.” He playfully quipped, giving Ghost a punch to the shoulder before darting towards the ramp to the plane.
“Fuckin' Hell...” muttered in his gruff voice. He slowly moved forward, following Soap.
Outwardly, Ghost appeared annoyed by the Scotsman, but he couldn't help but be a little amused by the man.
He was also grateful for the mask, and his ability to hide the beginnings of a smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips.
Ghost joined the rest of the men on the plane and strapped himself in for takeoff. He was unaccustomed to working with such a large team, and it made him uneasy. There was a knot in his stomach as his eyes scanned the cargo area, falling on every soldier down the line.
And then there was Soap, sitting directly across from him with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“So, LT, ye ever been tae Mexico?” He asked, attempting to break the ice.
Ghost locked his gaze onto Soap and sat there quietly. He considered replying, but somehow he knew that Soap wasn't the man to just inquire about the mission. It was the smile on his face and the glint in his eyes. So Ghost sat there quietly.
“It's an awfully long flight, LT. Gotta pass the time somehow, aye?” Soap continued. “Ye ever been tae Las Almas?”
Ghost conceded and gave a shake of his head. “No.”
Soap nodded in response.
“Guessin' ye never worked with the Mexican Forces, then?”
Ghost let out an inaudible sigh. “Nothing more than intelligence sharing. But I know they are an effective group.”
He didn't understand why he was still indulging this conversation, but there was something about the Sergeant that disarmed him; threw him off balance. Ghost would rather be waterboarded than admit that out loud, though.
“Aye, I've heard they're no strangers tae dealing with the like o' the cartels. Hope Alejandro dinnae think we're here tae step on any toes.”
Ghost shakes his head firmly. “Alejandro has a solid reputation.”
Soap shifted slightly in his seat, stretching a leg out towards Ghost.
“Ye ever wonder what ye'd do if ye found yerself on the other side of an ambush?” Soap asked, knowing it was still work-related but not mission-related.
Ghost actually pondered the question for a moment, oblivious to Soaps intention to get him to open up, he finally replied. “Stay low, prioritize targets, maintain communication and adapt as necessary.”
Soap grinned and gave another nod. “Tactical tae the bone, eh, LT?”
Ghost let out an agreeable grunt.
“Favourite childhood memory. Go.” Soap said, abruptly switching the topic.
Ghosts eyes were rather indifferent to the question, but there was a part of him that wanted to chuckle at the ridiculous question. Suppressing that urge, he cleared his throat before engaging Soap once more.
“This isn't a game, Soap.”
“Aye, It's not, but no harm en' askin' ye?” Soap retorted. He couldn't help himself, he felt a deep urge to lay on some charm with the big man that sat across from him.
He wasn't going to relent. Ghost knew it, and he could see the smirks and chuckles from those in earshot of this conversation.
“Training sessions in the rain.” Ghost deadpanned.
Soaps head jutted back and he raised a brow. “That's yer idea of fun?” he questioned.
Something stirred in Soap with that reply. A warmth. Ghost was definitely a closed off man, and one of few words, but it seems he still had a sense of humour about him. It intrigued Soap to no end. Ghost had no idea what he was getting himself into now that Soap had managed to worm his way under Ghost's armour.
“It's efficient.” Ghost added in his flat tone. In his own way, Ghost was enjoying this playful banter, it was something he hadn't allowed himself in years. Though he was concerned at how easily Soap managed to disarm him, even if he didn't outwardly show it.
“Might have tae get ye to show mae sometime.” Soap declared.
Ghost could only look away, focusing his gaze on a rather unremarkable sign bolted to a bulkhead of the plane. He hated and loved the feeling swelling inside him. A feeling he saw reflected in Soaps eyes.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
IN STITCHES
“The fuck ye trying tae do tae me, kill mae?” Soap whined as Ghosts hands worked to asses the wound on Soaps abdomen.
Ghost let out one of his usual, gruff grunts of amusement.
“Looks like you tried to do that all on your own, Johnny.” He replied, a sardonic smile playing on his lips under his mask.
“Ach... ye've not got the hands for this, Simon.” Soap continued to complain, his voice strained with discomfort.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Sergeant. I've had worse patients." Ghost retorted, his hands working with a practiced efficiency. "Maybe if you stopped trying to catch bullets with your abdomen, we wouldn't be in this mess."
Despite the blood over his hands and the rickety table under Soap, the wound really wasn't as severe as it seemed. The bullet had passed through the right side of Soaps abdomen, and no major blood vessels or organs were hit.
Soap winced, a low grumble escaping him. "Fuckin' bullets never were good for mae complexion, Ghost. Maybe if ye stopped picking missions with so much lead flying around, I wouldn't have tae be yer practice dummy."
“Stop whining and moving around.” Ghost fired back as he worked to clean the wound. He scanned his medical supplies, and sighed in relief that there was enough there to patch Soap up and get him back on his feet. “You're lucky the bullet went through you the way it did, otherwise I'd be carrying your dead ass back to exfil.”
“Aw, ye wouldn't leave mae behind? Even if I was a gonner?” Soap teased, though his usual grin was weak and unconvincing.
“Wouldn't do that.” Ghost divulged with an unusual amount of honesty, his eyes momentarily betraying a hint of genuine concern beneath the mask. "Besides, who else would I have to annoy with my impeccable charm?"
It took Soap by surprise and left him momentarily speechless. “Jus' patch mae up and get us tae Exfil.” He grumbled, resting his head on the table. “An' for the record, I'm the charmin' one on this team.” He smirked.
As he stared up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but reflect on how this mission had gone tits up. The room, dimly lit with flickering candlelight and a few flashlights, emphasized the gravity of their situation.
The mission was pretty straight forward; infiltrate a terrorist stronghold on a dense tropical forest on an island in the South China Sea. Ghost and Soap had approached the island via stealth insertion and had to navigate the vegetation and hills until they reached the compound perimeter undetected. The objective: confirm the presence of a high-ranking extremist leader.
The mission had actually started out well, the overcast skies and foggy waters provided more cover than initially predicted, and both men were able to navigate through the shadows to the compound.
The compound itself was old and run down, with barely any power. There were very few camera's, the electric fences didn't function and the guards were spread far and wide. It was almost too easy to breach the defences and slither their way inside.
But a few wrong steps - quite literally - and a slip of the tongue alerted one guard to their presence. One guard turned in ten, then thirty and suddenly they were overrun. Apparently the compound housed more terrorist forces than intel had lead them to believe. With a few quick and desperate shots and a lot of running, Ghost and Soap made their retreat, but not before Soap got shot.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
SONGS AND SOULMATES
With Soap begrudgingly resting on the creaky table, Ghost moved with his usual purpose through the small, dilapidated home. He meticulously secured all doors and windows as best he could, putting up wooden planks and chairs where he could, and using torn and foul-smelling blankets to cover the windows. There had been sounds in the distance, too indistinct to tell if it was wild animals or their pursuers, but he wasn't willing to take any chances.
Outside, Ghost stood guard under the small porch of the entryway. He scanned the darkness of the forest around them before taking a step off the crooked step and into the soft soil beneath his feet. The silence was eerie, even for him; though looking at him you'd never know it.
Ghost began to do perimeter walks, though never straying far from the small abode that Johnny lay in. It was a stroke of luck that either other them had found this abandoned hovel. If Ghost had to guess, this used to be some sort of drug smuggling port. The few buildings and dock were clearly hastily assembled, which also explained their current state of disrepair, though the one home they occupied was the only fully standing structure left.
Ghost couldn't help but also wonder; how was this place was missed during the intel gathering? Though it had been a miracle to exist and be abandoned when they needed it most, maybe it was best to not look too deeply into the matter.
Knowing they needed to get back on the road – so to speak – Ghost finished up his last lap of the area and headed back towards the home. He stepped up onto the old porch and slowly creaked the door open.
Ghost's gloved hand barely released the door handle when it hit him. A melody, soft and somehow distant, crept into his consciousness. A song, not from the dense jungle outside, but resonating within the confines of the small home and within his own head. The disparity between the reality of their situation and the euphoric notes dancing in his mind brought Ghost to a halt.
His heart, accustomed to its steady rhythm, even during combat, skipped a beat. The song washed over him like the waves of an incoming tide; soft, soothing and dangerous.
...When I'm lonely, well, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you
And when I'm dreaming, well, I know I'm gonna dream
I'm gonna dream about the time when I'm with you
When I go out (when I go out), well, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you
And when I come home (when I come home), yes, I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who comes back home with you
I'm gonna be the man who's coming home with you..
For the first time in a long time, Ghost was frozen, and there was a lump caught in his throat. He hadn't expected this, and certainly not now. He hadn't sung since he had become The Ghost, and his soulmate has stopped singing to him years ago. He had convinced himself they were beyond each others reach now, resigned to a fate of loneliness. But here it was now, in his head, threatening to drown him in emotions he has long since suppressed.
Managing to muster up the courage and strength to step inside and close the door behind him. He took a shallow breath with every step as he crept closer to the kitchen where Soap lay.
He peered through the crack in the door, still a fair distance away, and focused on Soaps lips as they softly mouthed the words to 'I'm gonna be'. His head spun with every passing line as it dawn on him that he had been serving alongside his soulmate for years now, completely unaware.
But it couldn't be true. It was impossible! They would have figured it out, certainly, right? They were soulmates, there should have been other signs!
And there were. There had been plenty, but both of them had been too lost to grief and despair and their careers to notice.
Despite the proof in front of him, Ghost needed to be certain. Maybe he was somehow hallucinating Soaps voice in his head. He had to know. He had to test.
Swallowing hard, Ghost parted his lips under his mask, and began to sing some of the song he had written when he was a teen, when he first became aware he had a soulmate out there in the world. It was low, nearly a whisper, to ensure Soap couldn't hear from from the other room.
...Through the trials and the battles, where our destinies entwine,
May this song guide you to me, a soulmate undefined...
As Ghost reached out with his song, Soaps eyes widened with surprise and recognition. It was the song from his youth. “Mo chridhe.” He choked to the ceiling above him.
A symphony of yearning, sung from the depths within,
An anthem for the restless hearts, a journey to begin.
In the tapestry of fate, where threads of time align,
This melody of hope declares a love that's divine...
And Ghost continued.
...Oh, whispers in the shadows, reach across the starlit sea,
A serenade for the one who shares this tune with me.
Through the trials and the battles, where our destinies entwine,
May this song guide you to me, a soulmate undefined.
Ghost paced the small space as his song came to an end, his masked features betraying the turmoil within. The weight of years spent in solitude, conditioned himself to guard his heart against the vulnerabilities of love, collided with the realization that Soap, his annoying Scotsman Sergeant, was closer than ever.
As the night surrenders to the dawn, and the stars begin to fade,
The echoes of our connection linger in the serenade.
A promise in each note, a vow in every line,
To find you in this lifetime, and forever call you mine...
Their shared history, and the undeniable proof of their soulmate bond, felt like both a lifeline and a precipice. Ghost's stoicism, a shield against the harsh realities of their world, buckled in the face of this revelation. The desire to retreat into the well-known comfort of silence was strong, fueled by the fear of exposing the fragile state of his own heart.
As Ghost contemplated the situation, his eyes fell once more to Soap, laying on the table. He had almost convinced himself to keep it a secret, until Soap began to sing again, this time he echoed the song Simon had written all those years ago. His heart swelled with affection for this idiot. His Sergeant. His soulmate.
For all his quirks and banter, Soap... Johnny had become an indelible part of Ghost's life. The possibility of losing him now, with their shared history and the bond rekindled, was a risk Ghost found himself unwilling to take.
The decision solidified in his mind, compelled not just by duty but by a deeper, unspoken respect... love that had weathered the test of time. Ghost couldn't deny that Soap deserved to know, deserved to understand the reason he stopped reaching out and searching.
Steeling himself, Ghost slowly walked across the room and pushed the door open to the kitchen, approaching Soap like a he would a mission objective. And then he stood before Soap who lay there and looked at him with teary eyes, and all of Ghosts resolve melted away. There wasn't going to be any “I'm your soulmate, Johnny.” or “I heard your singing in my head, I never knew it was you!” or any such directness.
Instead, Ghost cleared his throat and give Soaps wound one last glance.
“Time to go.” He commanded, already assisting Soap into a sitting position. “Gotta get to exfil before we're found, Johnny.”
As Soap stepped down to the floor, Ghost helped to steady him. “Easy there, Johnny.” He muttered, his voice low but filled with a touch of warmth.
Soap let out a grunt and a nod, and gave Ghost a few firm pats on the shoulder. “I'm fine, LT.”
As Soap found his footing, Ghost ensured all the candles they used were put out and their equipment packed up and ready to go. He could see the longing and pain creeping back into Soaps expression, and it broke his heart; something he assumed would have been impossible until this moment.
He gripped the nape of Soaps neck firmly and aimed him towards the front door. “We'll take it slow...” he began as they started to walk, “but we should reach exfil before the night surrenders to the dawn... Mo chridhe ”
Soap was caught off guard – to say the least – by the words that fell from Ghosts mouth, and felt his heart flutter. The tone in Ghosts voice carried the admission of their connection, and the immediate danger they were in felt far away.
“C'mon you muppet... gotta get you to safety, we've got a little to talk about, yeah?” Ghost understated. His fingers massaged gently at the back of Soaps neck as they continued to walk out of the house and into the forest. Soap was still grappling with the revelation that there was more to their bond, his footsteps heavy and his breath short as his mind worked to unravel what had just happened.
“Simon...” was all he was able to mutter.
“I know Johnny...” Ghosts voice went low and was filled with remorse. “I'm sorry, chridhe. I'll make it up to you.”
Soap wanted to cry, to burst into tears and turn and hug Ghost, but Ghost was right; they had to get to safety first, and then they could talk about it. “Yer pronunciation was shite, Mo luaidh.” Soap chuckled; grabbing at his sore abdomen as he shuffled through the foliage. “We'll work on that tae, aye?”
Ghost let out an approving grunt, giving Soap a playful push forward.
#gay#gay men#lgbtq#cod#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod mwf2#call of duty#mw2#mwii#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost cod#john mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap#soap cod#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghoap#ghost x soap#soap x ghost#sfw#story#short story
206 notes
·
View notes