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fatehbaz · 16 days ago

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About the entanglement of "science" and Empire. About geographic imaginaries. About how Empire appeals to and encourages children to participate in these scripts.

Was checking out this recent thing, from scavengedluxury's beloved series of posts looking at the archive of the Budapest Municipal Photography Company.

The caption reads: "Toys and board games, 1940."

And I think the text on the game-box in the back says something like "the whole world is yours", maybe?

(The use of appeals to science/progress in imperial narratives probably already well-known to many, especially for those familiar with Victorian era, Edwardian era, Gilded Age, early twentieth century, etc., in US and Europe.)

And was struck, because I had also recently gone looking through nemfrog's posts about the often-strange imagery of children's material in late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century US/Europe. And was disturbed/intrigued by this thing:

Caption here reads: "Game Board. Walter Mittelholzer's flight over Africa. [...] 1931. Commemorative game board map of Africa for a promotional game published for the N*stle Company, for tracking the trip of Walter Mittelholzer across Africa, the first pilot to fly a north-south route."

Hmm.

"Africa is for your consumption and pleasure! A special game celebrating German achievement, brought to you by the N*stle Company!"

1930s-era German national aspirations in Africa. A company which, in the preceding decade, had shifted focus to expand its cacao production (which would be dependent on tropical plantations). Adventure, excitement, knowledge, science, engineering prowess, etc. For kids!

Another, from a couple decades earlier, this time British.

Caption reads: "The "World's globe circler." A game board based on Nellie Bly's travels. 1890." At center, a trumpet, and a proclamation: "ALL RECORDS BROKEN".

Same year that the United States "closed the frontier" and conquered "the Wild West" (the massacre at Wounded Knee happened in December 1890). A couple years later, the US annexed Hawai'i; by decade's end, the US military was in both Cuba and the Philippines. The Scramble for Africa was taking place. At the time, Britain especially already had a culture of "travel writing" or "travel fiction" or whatever we want to call it, wherein domestic residents of the metropole back home could read about travel, tourism, expeditions, adventures, etc. on the peripheries of the Empire. Concurrent with the advent of popular novels, magazines, mass-market print media, etc. Intrepid explorers rescuing Indigenous peoples from their own backwardness. Many tales of exotic allure set in South Asia. Heroic white hunters taking down scary tigers. Elegant Englishwomen sipping tea in the shade of an umbrella, giggling at the elephants, the local customs, the strange sights. Orientalism, tropicality, othering.

I'd lately been looking at a lot of work on race/racism and imperative-of-empire in British scientific and pop-sci literature, especially involving South and Southeast Asia. (From scholars like Varun Sharma, Rohan Deb Roy, Ezra Rashkow, Jonathan Saha, Pratik Chakrabarti.) But I'd also lately been looking at Mashid Mayar's work, which I think closely suits this kinda thing with the board games. Some of her publications:

"From Tools to Toys: American Dissected Maps and Geographic Knowledge at the Turn of the Twentieth Century". In: Knowledge Landscapes North America, edited by Kloeckner et al., 2016.

"What on Earth! Slated Globes, School Geography and Imperial Pedagogy". European Journal of American Studies 16, number 3, Summer 2020.

Citizens and Rulers of the World: The American Child and the Cartographic Pedagogies of Empire, 2022.

Discussing her book, Mayar was interviewed by LA Review of Books in 2022. She says:

[Quote.] Growing up at the turn of the 20th century, for many American children, also meant learning to view the world through the lens of "home geography." [...] [T]hey inevitably responded to the transnational whims of an empire that had stretched its dominion across the globe [recent forays into Panama, Cuba, Hawai'i, the Philippines] [...]. [W]hite, well-to-do, literate American children [...] learned how to identify and imagine “homes” on the map of the world. [...] [T]he cognitive maps children developed, to which we have access through the scant archival records they left behind (i.e., geographical puzzles they designed and printed in juvenile periodicals) [...] mixed nativism and the logic of colonization with playful, appropriative scalar confusion, and an intimate, often unquestioned sense of belonging to the global expanse of an empire [...]. Dissected maps - that is, maps mounted on cardboard or wood and then cut into smaller pieces that children were to put back together - are a generative example of the ways imperial pedagogy [...] found its place outside formal education, in children's lives outside the classroom. [...] [W]ell before having been adopted as playthings in the United States, dissected maps had been designed to entertain and teach the children of King George III about the global spatial affairs of the British Empire. […] [J]uvenile periodicals of the time printed child-made geographical puzzles [...]. [I]t was their assumption that "(un)charted," non-American spaces (both inside and outside the national borders) sought legibility as potential homes, [...] and that, if they did not do so, they were bound to recede into ruin/"savagery," meaning that it would become the colonizers' responsibility/burden to "restore" them [...]. [E]mpires learn from and owe to childhood in their attempts at survival and growth over generations [...]. [These] "multigenerational power constellations" [...] survived, by making accessible pedagogical scripts that children of the white and wealthy could learn from and appropriate as times changed [...]. [End quote.] Source: Words of Mashid Mayar, as transcribed in an interviewed conducted and published by M. Buna. "Children's Maps of the American Empire: A Conversation with Mashid Mayar". LA Review of Books. 11 July 2022.

Some other stuff I was recently looking at, specifically about European (especially German) geographic imaginaries of globe-as-playground:

The Play World: Toys, Texts, and the Transatlantic German Childhood (Patricia Anne Simpson, 2020) /// "19th-Century Board Game Offers a Tour of the German Colonies" (Sarah Zabrodski, 2016) /// Advertising Empire: Race and Visual Culture in Imperial Germany (David Ciarlo, 2011) /// Learning Empire: Globalization and the German Quest for World Status, 1875-1919 (Erik Grimmer-Solem, 2019) /// “Ruling Africa: Science as Sovereignty in the German Colonial Empire and Its Aftermath” (Andrew Zimmerman. In: German Colonialism in a Global Age, 2014) /// "Exotic Education: Writing Empire for German Boys and Girls, 1884-1914". (Jeffrey Bowersox. In: German Colonialism and National Identity, 2017) /// Raising Germans in the Age of Empire: Youth and Colonial Culture, 1871-1914 (Jeff Bowersox, 2013) /// "[Translation:] (Educating Modernism: A Trade-Specific Portrait of the German Toy Industry in the Developing Mass-Market Society)" (Heike Hoffmann, PhD dissertation, Tubingen, 2000) /// Home and Harem: Nature, Gender, Empire, and the Cultures of Travel (Inderpal Grewal, 1996) /// "'Le rix d'Indochine' at the French Table: Representation of Food, Race and the Vietnamese in a Colonial-Era Board Game" (Elizabeth Collins, 2021) /// "The Beast in a Box: Playing with Empire in Early Nineteenth-Century Britain" (Romita Ray, 2006) /// Playing Oppression: The Legacy of Conquest and Empire in Colonialist Board Games (Mary Flanagan and Mikael Jakobsson, 2023)

#mashid mayar book is useful also the Playing Oppression book is open access online if you want #in her article on slated globes mayar also mentions how european maps by 1890s provoked a sort of replete homogenous filling in of globe #where european metropole thought of itself as having sufficiently mapped the planet by now knit into neat web of interimperial trade #and so european apparent knowledge of globe provided apparently enlightened position of educating or subjugating the masses #whereas US at time was more interested in remapping at their discretion #a thing which relates to what we were talking about in posts earlier today where elizabeth deloughrey describes twentieth century US #and its aerial photographic and satellite perspectives especially of Oceania and Pacific as if it now understood the totality of the planet #ecologies #tidalectics #geographic imaginaries #mashid mayar

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sink-me-in-your-ocean · 1 year ago

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Equilibrium

Phantom Ghoul x fem!Reader Smut

Summary: (Kinda) Part of a "Choose your own adventure" series in progress, but it works well enough on its own so I thought I would post it now.

WC: 3620

A/N: This one has bewitched me, (feral) body and soul. Fellow Phantom simps, this one is for you, but mostly me.

Content warnings: no plot - only spice, fingering, P in V sex. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

NSFW below the cut.

Your hard fist hit the door three times. Impatience was one of your most prominent traits and you’d be damned if you didn’t hate waiting on somebody else. Especially when that somebody else was the one who had plagued your thoughts for weeks. And at night his name was the one uttered from your lips from your own self-pleasure.

You grabbed the door handle and twisted, discovering much to your chagrin that was unlocked and you had been standing out here all this time. You walk into the room, scanning the space, noting the chill that bit your limbs. Fucking hells it was freezing. Your sisters told you that the ghouls run hot, but it was like a blizzard had hit the room. The room was also, to your dismay, empty of occupants. Maybe he’s not here?

Your ears perked up, hearing water running from an adjoined room. The joints of your fingers started to lock up as you lifted them to the wood of what you assumed was a bathroom door. You knocked, this time feeling a slight pain in your cold hands as you did so.

“Phantom?” You call out just loud enough, dragging out the vowels.

“Hey! You weren’t supposed to come ‘till later!” His voice echoed from inside the closed room, and you heard the water shut off abruptly.

“I can come back if you want.” You offered, giving him an out.

“Hells no!” He opened the door wearing nothing but a white towel.

Your mouth went dry at the sight. It hung low. Dangerously low. But that wasn’t the only thing you noticed. His human glamor was nowhere to be found.

Phantom’s true skin was grey, just the same as you had heard about the other ghouls, but his shoulders and chest had sparse midnight blue clusters of freckles. You marveled at the hard planes of his chest and stomach, at the way the water from the shower still clung to his arms and drenched his mostly-black hair. His signature white streak plastered itself to his forehead and the side of his face, while the rest stuck to his ears and neck. He had two near-black horns protruding from underneath his soggy hair. Finally, you settled your gaze on his face, his fangs slightly poked out through his parted lips. His beauty mark was also visible on his left cheek, several shades darker against the grey tones of his skin.

A half-smile spread on your face as you noticed his beauty spot, and you fought the urge to reach up and touch his cheek.

“Like what you see?” He cocked his head to the side, making you grin wider. It was truly no wonder why you were so drawn to him. In his human form he was cute… but as a ghoul? Strikingly handsome. Nine hells you wanted to kiss him.

“Maybe I do.”

“Set in your choice?”

“Maybe I am.” You nibbled your bottom lip, tempted to rake your gaze over Phantom’s body again.

Instead, you walked past him and into the bathroom, leaning yourself over the vanity to feign checking yourself out. You mostly just needed a break from looking at him half-naked. “My darling ghoul,” you called absently, “you’re not wearing your glamor. Sister Imperator would not be pleased, I wouldn’t want to tell on you, but…”

He looked down at himself, “Oh shit, you’re right.” He shrugged, “I thought you were going to change your mind or something. Figured it wouldn’t matter too much either way if I just ‘let it all hang out’ so to speak.”

“No, no, I just wanted to tell you so you could change back.” You played with your hair, tucking back a few strands that had come loose from your braid.

“Well, I can if you want me to. Do you?”

You opened your mouth to answer but he cut you off.

“Wait, did you just call me ‘my darling’?” Your eyes flicked back to him through the mirror, heart temporarily quivering as he repeated your words back to you.

You regained your composure before his teasing look could disarm you further. “That’s what you heard out of me talking?”

He advanced on you suddenly, barely giving you enough time to turn around to face him. You backed up against the counter top, your spine arching as you shrunk back, and your fingernails digging into the underside of the cold marble. His arms came down on either side to trap you in place.

There was a mix of anticipation and cockiness in his expression, “You like me, don’t you?”

“Phantom, it’s a wonder why Sister Imperator doesn’t consult you for logistics.” He made a face, clearly missing your sarcasm, and you liked him even more for it. “Of course I like you. I wouldn’t be here if not.”

A shy smile ghosted across his lips, and you caught another glimpse of those fangs. You filled the silence by speaking again, “Well? Don’t just leave me hanging.”

“I like you too.” His admission was softer than a feather but weighed as much as concrete.

You stifled a knowing smile, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You’re a little trickster then.” You cocked your head, “you had me thinking I was the only one.”

His smile matched yours, “I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out sooner, for a while there I thought I’d burst into flames because you kept giving me those eyes.” You laughed at that, knowing full well what he meant, and he continued, “And just so you’re well aware, there’s nothing about me that’s little.”

“Oh, you nasty ghoul.”

“Yes?”

Your eyes narrowed, “You lured me in here on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Hard to say, really,” you watched, hypnotized as his tongue wet his bottom lip and then he leaned in close. “But that’s not the only thing that’s hard.” His breath coasted along your neck and goosebumps raised along the path, as if your skin was subconsciously reaching for him. You felt his lips barely hovering by the shell of your ear, causing a stirring sensation that shot through your entire body.

You shoved at his chest playfully and he smirked at you, both of you knowing where this is going. You felt a fluttering in the pit of your stomach and finally allowed yourself to reach your hand up, brushing the white and black, slightly air-dried, hair away from his face. No more hesitation. Something inside you gave you the gumption to raise up on your tiptoes and kiss him. You planted a single smooch on his lips, closing your eyes as you did.

You drew back, studying his features. He was so still, his eyes scrunched closed in a combination of tension and serenity.

“Phantom?”

He opened his eyes, his dark gaze devouring you. The air in the room changed and all ambient sound seemed to have been sucked into a void. You couldn’t look away from him. Afraid for a half of a second that maybe he didn’t like the kiss, you opened your mouth to allow the doubt to pour out. But you never got a single syllable out before his hands were on your face, tilting your head up to kiss you.

His mouth met yours in a breath-stealing kiss. Your hands immediately laced through his damp hair, touching the sides of his face, his neck, pulling him in closer. You parted your lips slightly on the next kiss and he used it to his advantage, his tongue swiping ever so lightly between your lips to taste you. You open your mouth more, allowing him full access. Feeling his tongue brush yours made you lightheaded.

Phantom grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against him. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. The hunger shared between the two of you felt as though it had been building for years, your entire life even. A tickle on the back of your thigh made you jump, opening your eyes and breaking the kiss for a moment.

He huffed a laugh, “Sorry, my tail seems to have a mind of its own sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” you kissed him again, “I like it.” You brazenly reached around his waist to feel the base of his tail. He jerked involuntarily towards you and you felt his hard length pressing against your abdomen. How that towel was holding up you had no idea.

Touching, tasting, breathing him in, it wasn’t enough. You needed so much more. Your core ached in a way that silenced all thoughts of self-doubt and modesty.

Your hands moved up his back, feeling his warm skin and the tight muscles underneath. He unzipped the back of your dress, and you felt it fall open, the air and his hands touching your bare skin underneath.

“No bra?” He said, sliding your dress down while moving into a crouched position in front of you.

“Hm.” You purse your lips, drawing it out, “That’s not all.”

He made a sound like you’d imagine a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles. Astonished but intrigued. “No underwear?”

You shrugged, “Surprised? I thought I could just ‘let it all hang out’, or however you put it so eloquently.”

Phantom stared up at you, trying to hide a smile, and you could see a color creeping up over his cheeks. Could a ghoul even blush? He giggled lightly, shaking his head at you in what seemed like amazement.

He helped you step out of the dress, his eyes sweeping over your naked frame, drinking all of you in. Phantom rose slowly and his long fingers trailed up the inside of your legs. The calluses of his fingertips tickled, making you twitch slightly as they neared where you wanted to feel him the most. His right hand moved around to your waist, the other hesitated between your legs, just an inch or so from your core.

“Sit.” He commanded. You obeyed, your ass meeting the countertop, your legs parting on their own accord in silent invitation.

“Please, Phantom, touch me.”

“As you wish.”

You inhaled sharply as his middle finger swiped through your folds, dragging languidly in the wetness there. He let out a needy noise, leaning down to breathe you in, kissing and sucking your neck. You wanted him so badly, and now that he could feel that, the implication made you even more weak for him.

His middle and ring fingers dragged again through your wetness, lingering for a moment before pressing inside you.

You cried out at the intrusion, wincing slightly. It had been so long since you had a partner, and still your fingers never made you feel like this. Phantom knew all the right moves, drawing in and out at a steady pace. His fingers felt exquisite as they lazily fucked your slick cunt. And when his thumb pressed lightly against your clit, you whined his name. Suddenly you needed to see him exposed too, because if just his fingers made you feel so good then…

“You won’t be needing this.” You pulled his towel off his body, baring him before you. Your eyes widened at the size of him. Fuck. Your mouth salivated at the sight of his long, hard cock. You couldn’t stare too long, as his lips moved from their place on your neck and collarbone back to your lips.

Each kiss, every touch was hotter than the last, igniting the two of you. He was burning up. He felt perfect against your ice cold skin. Like a day of sun in the middle of a desolate winter.

You had half a mind to beg him to fuck you on the counter, and it’s like he knew were about to speak, because he interrupted your thought with an even more tantalizing suggestion.

“Can I fuck you in the shower?”

You moaned, his fingers curling inside you deliciously, “What do we say when we want something, darling ghoul?”

He groaned, his hand moving from your waist to the nape of your neck. He gathered your braid and yanked sharply, exposing more of your neck for him to lavish. “Fuck,” he uttered between bites along your soft skin, “can I please take you in the shower?”

“Yes.” Your word was barely out of your mouth when he planted another fierce kiss to your lips. His fingers left you empty as he helped you off the counter. You would have followed him anywhere at that moment, anything to get him touching you again.

He took you by one hand and walked towards the shower with you, kissing you every step of the way until your feet hit the slick stone of the shower floor. He gave your hands a squeeze to turn around and turn the water on. You smirked at seeing his cute butt, his tail protruding from just above. You were filled with the sudden urge to bite him when a large waterfall nozzle poured water out from above the two of you, bringing you back out of your thoughts.

Phantom turned to face you again, and all the sustenance in the world couldn’t quench the hunger in his eyes. Your adrenaline spiked then - or maybe it was the momentarily cold water splashing on your feet. Maybe it was the anticipation of knowing that you were finally living the fantasy you had wanted for so long.

He pressed you against the tiled wall of the shower, the now warm water flowing down providing sweet relief for your chilled naked body. Your back was cold against the tile, so you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer. For warmth.

The two of you shared a series of messy kisses, your lungs suffocating from the intense lack of air as steam circled you. He closed the open space between your bodies quickly, his strong hand taking hold of your right leg and lifting it up to meet his waist. Once there, you were just one slight move from being as close together as you could possibly be. The head of his cock nudged at your opening, and you felt yourself instinctively clench with want. The water from the shower did a great job making your whole body wet, but you were dripping with need for him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your gaze moved up to his. Phantom’s dark eyes were clouded with lust, but wavered in slight trepidation. He was serious, wanting your full consent before going any further. For a beat, your heart stuttered in your chest, knowing there would be no going back if you two did this. You couldn’t say no, though, there was something primal in you that screamed with demand. He was the only one you wanted, and you wanted him desperately.

Heart still pounding, you reached up to touch his cheek and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. You broke the kiss to give him your answer, “Yes, yes Phantom, I want you.”

He nodded, eyes flicking over your face to search for any hits of doubt. Satisfied with your sincerity, he nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing you in deeply as he pulled you in. His cock pressed inside you with ease, meeting no resistance. You bit back a moan, teeth sinking into your bottom lip so hard you tasted iron on your tongue. If kissing him for the first time was ecstasy, feeling him inside you for the first time was oblivion.

“Oh fuck.” Your foreheads pressed together and you exhaled heavily as he sheathed himself inside you.

It was like a switch had flipped, you two went from frantic grasping and fevered kisses to slow, intentional movements. His right hand cradled the back of your head as he thrust into you with a deep rhythm that made your stomach tighten. He raised your right leg up higher so you were on your tiptoes, trying to press further inside you.

The water from the shower head cascaded down your skin in rivulets, adding a tickling sensation over your breasts and your stomach as it trickled over you. It felt like something out of a fucking romance novel. The heat, the chill, the need, the gratification; a perfect equilibrium.

His hand grabbed greedily at your left thigh, “I need you closer.”

A feather of a laugh lifted the corners of your lips, “I don’t think that’s possible.” You kissed him again, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and biting it. He growled, fangs jutting out to try to bite you back. You moved your face away, seeing the playfulness in his pitch-dark eyes mixed with something mischievous.

“It is.” That was the only warning he gave before he lifted you up effortlessly off the floor. Your legs wrapped reflexively around his waist and you gasped at the sensation of weightlessness.

You felt a furious blush burn over your face and neck, flustered at the ease with which he picked you up. Flushed at the way his cock bottomed out inside you fully. Your walls tightened from the additional intrusion, and you moaned into his mouth. Your lips collided together in a series of heady open-mouthed kisses, becoming a mess of teeth, tongues, and fangs.

Your hands tangled themselves perfectly in his drenched hair and you rested your head against the tile to get a good look at him.

His dark brows were drawn together, and he had the look of utmost concentration and pleasure on his face as he drove into your heat. There was a deepening of the color on his cheeks again, a soft blush. He adjusted his hands from your thighs to have one arm firmly around your back, the other hand holding the roundness of your ass. Phantom’s eyes were turned down, and you followed where he was looking.

You let your gaze drift down, admiring again his toned, hard body against your soft, squishy one. When you looked all the way down to where you two were joined, watching and feeling everywhere each and every thrust of his cock inside you, you felt like you would melt.

It was all so intimate, too intimate for your first time together. Seeing his true form, being held so tightly in his arms, fuck, he had you. He had you so well. And the way he felt inside of you was divine. Like you were made for each other.

Your body burned, your muscles trembled, your jaw twitched. Phantom tightened his hands on your waist and back, his claws scratching at your supple skin while his teeth and tongue took turns with your neck. His tail snaked up and twisted around your ankle, locking you further in place as if you’d run away on your own. You couldn’t even think of being apart from him. You never wanted him to leave your body.

As if the passion in the moment wasn’t enough, he reached a hand between you two, finding your clit and rubbing slow circles. You keened, bucking your hips forward, trying to grind harder against him, but he was in full control, holding you steady while he increased his rhythm. You felt a tension building in your abdomen, and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to resist your impending orgasm. You didn’t want to come yet, you wanted to draw it out more, but the added pressure on your clit from his thumb was butchering your resolve. Your breathing increased, every exhale punctuated by a whine as you felt yourself getting closer, and closer.

He noticed your futile writhing in his arms, “Are you going to come for me, pretty girl?”

You mewled, “Yes - but I want you to -” you couldn’t finish the sentiment, incoherent babbling becoming all you could muster. You were so close.

“You want me to? Where do you want me to come?”

“Inside me -” Your legs tensed, your abdomen tensed, your whole body locking up as your pussy clenched around him. You could no longer breathe or think.

“Fall apart for me, only me.” He kissed your neck, sucking on the skin there before drawing back. “Look into my eyes, sweet girl.”

You did, his near-black irises melted you from the inside. That taught string that had been holding you snapped, sending you spiraling. Your mouth fell open and a moan tore its way from your throat. He planted his lips to yours as you shattered in his arms.

His hands both moved up to your shoulders, pulling you down hard onto his cock as he drove himself as deep within you as possible. You felt him twitching inside you, warmth spreading as he came for you.

You stay there for a minute, your breathing returning slowly to a normal cadence as the water continues to run over the both of you. You were wholly grateful for his inhuman strength; Phantom held you like you weighed nothing. He put one hand under your rear and the other came up to your face, his thumb stroked your bottom lip. His fingers caressed your chin, tilting you up and into one final searing kiss to seal your shared passion.

“Can you stand?” He withdrew himself from you and moved to gently place your legs back down on the stone floor.

“I - I think so.” Your stubborn legs wanted to give out, all your body wanted to do was collapse in a heap.

He offered you his hand, helping steady you. “Want to get cleaned up? I mean, we might as well since we’re already in the shower.”

“Yes,” you answered, before playfully adding, “please.”

“What am I going to do with you?” He whispered, kissing your forehead as you both relaxed in the steady stream of water.

#the band ghost #the band ghost x reader smut #the band ghost x reader #phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader #phantom ghoul smut #phantom ghoul x reader smut #aeon ghoul

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glutko · 2 months ago

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Today, on Echoes of Wisdom's release day, I'd like to talk about THE most obscure place in the Zelda series.

It's Durod.

...What? You don't know Durod?

Hm. I don't blame you...

It was only mentioned in a character's name in an official Dutch guide of Zelda's Adventure that was only published in its entirety across the last three 1999 issues of the CD-i magazine CD-interactief, which itself was reduced to a section in a different magazine.

Okay, let's sort this information out.

Like many other CD-i games, Zelda's Adventure had a guide that named a bunch of characters and enemies, and - at the very least - was based off official material. Characters such as Alice and Kron the Peddler have unused voice lines where they say their names, and these names are used in the guide. (A similar thing happened with Kulvan, the blacksmith from TFoE).

Due to the late release of Zelda's Adventure (1996) in the CD-i's lifespan, there were almost no publications that published the guide... apart from the Dutch CD-interactief magazine. It posted small tidbits from the guide in its tips and tricks section until, by 1998, it was reduced to a section in the Oog & Oor magazine. There, it started posting full guides of CD-i games, including Zelda's Adventure.

This was one of the last guides they published before ending, and this is where Durod comes in. According to the guide, one of the White Steed Lodge patrons sitting around the table is named Debblin van Durod - in a Dutch name, "van" indicates a person's place of origin:

Another character has a partially translated Dutch name; Bitterbeck de Bergman.

So we have Debblin, a person from Durod. Cool! The guide might also say they're a deerhunter, but it's hard to tell as I don't know Dutch and had to machine translate it.

And that's, um... literally all we know about Debblin and/or Durod. No other NPC mentions Durod, not even in unused dialogue. The lone person at the table you can talk to (the brown-clad man who I'm assuming is Debblin) reuses the owner's dialogue line, even though there appears to be dialogue for him in the game files:

And, as far as we know, no other place in Tolemac is called Durod, not even in the guide or the known development assets.

This person and the land they hail from are complete mysteries, even within the absolutely anomalous series entry that is Zelda's Adventure.

Who in the world is Debblin from Durod?!

Maybe we'll find out some answers if more Zelda's Adventure pre-release stuff gets released. But until then...

#not corruption #cdi zelda #the legend of zelda #tloz #long post

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orions-choker · 3 months ago

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Bitter Water (Siren! Jason Newsted x Reader NSFW)

Siren! Jason Newsted, Cum Eating, Ambiguous Ending, Voice Kink

Word Count: 4,205

Reader is drawn towards the seas tender embrace and the sweet song of a pretty boy on the shore.

(Cross posted to AO3, the third installment of my Metallica Monsters collection.)

The taste of salt hung heavy in the air, cool against the skin was the breeze bouncing off the murky waves. The beach was rocky, jagged and unnerving. Nothing like the white sand and crystal clear waters Y/N was used to back home. “Tell me again why we came here instead of somewhere like Miami?” She complained, pulling her jacket tighter around her body as she turned to her friend.

Her eyes drifted across the horizon line, it was a clear enough day, yet fog danced low across the ground. “C’mon it's like a fun spooky adventure.” Her best friend's voice chimed as she slowly crawled down the embankment. Y/N eyed her cautiously, surely there had to be better ways to get down to the beach than that?

“We can’t even swim here.” Y/N grumbled once more, despite this she followed her friends pathing, sliding down the dirt as she tumbled onto the small beach. Waves lapped at the shore, tide pulling in and out leaving a wet sheen against the rocks. “This feels like there should be a lighthouse here and an angry fisherman.” Y/N crouched down, hands grazing against a small stone that seemed to glean in the few rays of sunlight.

The rock seemed out of place amongst the dark gray stones. It shimmered a brilliant turquoise color, flecks of white and dark blue spattered amongst it. It seemed almost as if it emanated its own light. Curiously she scooped it into her palms, cupping it around its eye to test its glow in the dark properties. “Hey! Come look at this!” Y/N called out to her friend excitedly. She pulled away, handing it to the other girl. “Have you ever seen a glow in the dark stone?”

When not focused on the stone, Y/N’s gaze seemed to drift towards the sea each time. Her eyes wandered as the girl inspected the stone for herself. “No way, that's so cool, it has to be fake though right?” She asked Y/N as she handed it back. Y/N nodded slowly, rolling the stone between her fingers. Her eyes caught onto something in the water. Surfacing to the shore a dark black mass slithering its way through the waves. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Big fucking fish.” Y/N declared, pointing towards the sight with her empty hand. She stood up, daring to step closer to the water as she attempted to get a better look. “Sturgeon maybe?” She questioned. Suddenly the water danced at her feet and she jumped back in surprise. Had she gotten that close to the water so fast?

There were hands on her shoulders, tugging her back onto the beach. “Woah there Y/N, don't go walking into the ocean on me.” Her friend's laughter crackled through the heavy air. “What if it's a shark that wants to eat you.” She teased, steering Y/N back towards the incline that led up to the road once more.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she climbed back up to the pavement. “Sharks rarely attack people, you know?” She scoffed. As her feet hit sturdy ground once more Y/N realized she still had the stone clutched tightly in her hand. She smiled softly at it, shoving it gently into the front pocket of her jacket. “C'mon, where's this waterfront hotel you booked us?” She followed the other girl further down the road.

The hotel was old, A sprawling old property, three stories and painted with a peeling white paint. The beach it inhabited was much more like the ones Y/N was accustomed to, more sand less stone. Still the water didn’t look even a bit more enticing. She frowned at the sight. This vacation was becoming more and more disappointing each moment she stayed in this sad seaside town.

Her room impressed her only moderately more. It was clean at the very least, a large balcony door that led her directly out to the beach. She stepped forwards to the large doors and pulled back the billowing white curtains. The waves seemed more aggressive now as she looked out into the ocean, dark storm clouds were on the horizon. Her eyes narrowed in on an odd movement, there she saw the tail of a large fish peak from above the waves and sink down below once more. She gasped in astonishment, that was bigger than most fish you would see along the shoreline.

Patiently she watched once more for a glimpse of this beast, but it never came. She stopped back from her door, pulling the curtains closed once more as she shed her clothing for the day. A long afternoon of traveling meant an early night. Reaching into her pocket she pulled the stone once more, rubbing her thumb across the smooth surface in admiration. She placed it gently on the old wooden nightstand. She stepped into her long nightgown, shivering at the cool breeze that seemed to penetrate the flimsy walls against her bare skin.

The bed was hardly anything to write home about, a little bit too stiff against her back but nothing she couldn't power through, especially not with how tired she was. Exhaustion radiated in each of her bones as she rested her head against the flat pillow. The gentle whooshing of the waves outside served as a fantastic white noise as she surrendered to sleep.

Y/N’s slumber lasted only a short while though. She awoke to the gentle light of the moon dancing across her walls in the shape of the ebbing water. More surprisingly she was stirred by the sound of low melodic singing carried across the air. Confused, she swung her legs over the side of her bed, the wood freezing against the soles of her feet. She shuffled to her sliding door, peeking outside into the dark. As she got closer the louder the singing began.

There, laying casually at the waterline, backlit by the moon was a man. From here she could make out his shirtless form, wild curly hair splayed out beneath him. Her brows furrowed as she squinted for a better look. Her body seemed to move on its own as she pressed the lock open, quietly sliding the door open.

The sand was soft between her toes as she stepped out, the singing grew louder yet. Wind whipped against her legs, jostling the light material of her nightgown. Y/N couldn’t make out any of the words the man sang, a language foreign to her ears yet full of emotions she knew by heart. Wanting, longing, yearning. She took a few more steps forward, he seemingly lay partially in the sea, from his hips down engulfed in the dark water. Perhaps he was hurt? One more step forward and abruptly the soft melody ceased, his head snapped towards her, too far away to make out his features but she could see his body stiffen in surprise. He moved, shifting his body weight onto his hands, ready to push himself up and run.

“Wait!” She called out, the words leaving her without a second thought. She took a long stride forward, hand outreached towards him. She could see his face now, gleaming under the moonlight. He was handsome, strong jawline, slightly squared chin, deep set blue eyes. His hair a wild mane of reddish-brown curls. Just as soon as she saw him he was gone, slipping beneath the waves in one swift movement.

She yelped, running into the sea in a panic, the water rose to her calves, dampening the hem of her gown. In the distance she saw it again, the dark slithering of a large fish, moving away from her quickly. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked out. No signs of the man who had been here just a moment before. The tides were not strong enough to suck a person down below the depths like that, had he been attacked by something?

Soon the freezing water against her skin was too much to bear, she backed up, sand sticking to her wet skin as she walked back towards her room. Looking cautiously over her shoulder to the water once more. There, just for a moment she saw something once more. Peeking from below watching her, those eyes, that hair. It dipped down slowly, fully submerged as she stumbled back into her room.

In a haze she stepped into her bathroom, running the tub to wash the evidence of her excursion from her skin. She watched curiously, the sand and dirt swirling down the drain as the water rinsed her clean. She didn’t catch another moment of sleep that night, her head resting against the pillow, staring out across the beach, desperate for another sign of what she had just witnessed.

Y/N watched the sun rise slowly into the sky, unmoving from her position until there was a gentle rapping at her door. “Holy crap you look like shit.” Her friend's voice greeted her as Y/N opened the door. “Couldn’t sleep?” She asked sympathetically.

“No.” Y/N mumbled in response, rubbing at her heavy eyes. She moved to the side, allowing the girl into her room as she closed the door behind them. “Could really use some breakfast.” She didn’t elaborate further on her sleepless night, knowing the disbelieving reaction her friend would give her. She stepped out of her sleepwear and into another long flowing summer dress, a deep blue color that swirled around her in a breathable fabric.

With a grin her friend dragged her from the room. “Well you’re in luck, eggs benny is on the menu this morning in the restaurant.” She informed Y/N. The restaurant in question was more akin to a hole in the wall diner on the main floor of the hotel. It was surprisingly busy, filled with mostly old couples and the occasionally family unit. In the corner booth Y/N nursed a warm milky tea as her friend aimlessly chattered on about today's itinerary. Her eyes glazed over as she looked across the diner, she prodded lazily at her hashbrown, moving them around her plate in disinterest. “You know, you shouldn’t play with your food.” A soft voice came from behind her. She watched as her friends eyes widened and sparkled with interest first before she turned around to entertain the man,

She was stunned into silence at the person she was greeted with. Unmistakably it was the man from the beach last night, his hair tamed and pulled back into a ponytail, a red flannel covering his chest, sleeves rolled up his arms. Her mouth gaped open like a dying fish. Before she could say anything her friend piped up. “Oh oh my gosh hi!” She introduced herself quickly, tucking her hair behind her ears with a flirtatious bat of her eyelashes. Y/N couldn’t blame her, he was one of the most enticing men she had ever laid eyes on. “And this is Y/N!”

Y/N blinked at the mention of her name, quickly snapping her mouth shut and holding her hand out in greeting. “Jason, nice to meet you gals.” The man, Jason, greeted them, shaking their hands kindly. “What brings you here?” He asked, striking up a casual conversation.

The other girl took the lead, Y/N still in a stunned stupor as she watched Jason speak, his gentle laugh as melodic as his singing. She was positive that was out there last night. The whole interaction had seemed so other worldly that she nearly hadn’t believed it was real. She found herself drawn into the way he spoke, luring her in gently.

“It was a pleasure talking to you two, see you around.” His farewell snapped Y/N out of her trance. Panic rose as she watched him walk away, she needed to ask him what last night was all about. Quickly she excused herself from the table, ignoring her friends' protests. She all but ran to catch up with the other man.

“Hey wait up, Jason!” She called out to him, following him outside the doors of the hotel. Her hand grasped onto the back of his shirt as she stopped him. He turned around, eyeing her expectantly. “I saw you, last night, you disappeared.” She tried her best to explain between short breaths.

He smiled at her, lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth. “You did.” He confirmed with a nod. “You have something of mine by the way.” He hummed, leaning down closer to her face. His eyes seemed to trail across her skin. “Bring it back to me tonight please.” He asked sweetly before stepping away from her once more and turning his back to her.

Y/N was unable to move as she watched him walk away, as if she was under a spell until she could no longer see him. She shook her head in disbelief. Left with more questions than answers she returned to her confused friend in the diner. She couldn’t bring herself to answer any of the girls' probing questions as they paid for their breakfast and moved on.

Before they headed into town for the day Y/N felt compelled to return to her room, pocketing the glistening stone off her nightstand and tucking it away into her bag. The day passed by Y/N in a blur, countless trinket stores entered, mediocre lunch on the pier, a cover band that night at the local pub. There was only one thing on her mind. Jason. What did he mean to bring it back to him tonight? What was it that she had of his? Was this some weird ploy to lure her out and murder her? The sight of the hotel once more was almost an unwelcome one.

She stopped facing her friend. “You go on ahead inside for tonight, I think I want to take a walk along the beach before bed.” She assured her friend with a small smile and a wave, watching her disappear beyond the front doors before turning to the landscape before her. Her sandals sunk heavy into the sand as she wandered, the sky was dark, stars twinkling above her like fairy lights.

To her right Y/N heard a splash in the water, she turned to see nothing, yet still she felt compelled to walk towards the sound. Her eyes strained to make anything out in the dark as she approached the shoreline. This section of the beach was rockier, reminiscent of the first beach they had visited when they arrived. She stepped carefully across the jagged stones.

Then she heard it, the same low singing from the night before, ebbing and flowing, guided by the breeze to her ears. She followed it until she saw him again. Relaxing against a stone partially submerged beneath the waves. “Jason?” She called out curiously as she was pulled forward by an invisible force.

He turned his head lazily towards her, his damp curls caressing the side of his face as he grinned. His lips moved around the words of his song effortlessly. There beneath the water, the flick of an inky black tail, scales shimmering like an oil slick in the low light. Her eyes dropped to his lower half in awe and amazement. Words were lost on the tip of her tongue, and still her legs pulled her forward, deeper into the water.

Her dress floated around her waist as she approached him, only when she stood beside him did the hum of his song cease. She watched with wide eyes as he leaned over, hand dipping into her now soaking purse as he plucked the glimmering stone from its hiding place. Within his hands it seemed to glow brighter, casting a blue glow across both their faces.

“I lost this, thank you for finding it.” He whispered, snapping her from her trance. His eyes were kind as he grasped her hands within her own. “It would be really bad if I lost it.”

Y/N swallowed hard, hands shaking in his old, her eyes drifted back to his face stunned at his close proximity, his body curved towards her. “I…What are you?” She mumbled softly. She could feel the stone pressed against the back of her hand and it vibrated pleasantly as she spoke.

His laugh echoed off in the night like the chiming of bells. “Siren, Mermaid, Sea-Nymph.” He rattled off the mythological species. “Whatever you want to call me.” He shrugged. His hands dropped hers and she found herself grimacing at the loss. “And this pretty little thing is the source of my entire being.” He held up the stone once more before slipping it into the small wire cage that hung from his neck.

“I'm sorry I took it.” Y/N apologized, eyes trailing from his neck down his chest, glistening with water, down his navel to the subtle v shape of his hip bones before it transitions to scales. Her mouth felt dry suddenly as she studied him. Deep within her she felt panic, confusion. But on the surface she felt soothed with each word Jason spoke to her.

He laughed again, shaking his head. “No, really thanks to you I found it, I probably wouldn’t have found it on my own.” He assured her. Gently his hand reached out, thumb stroking over her cheekbone tenderly. “I promise your help comes with reward.” He whispered, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

It was unexpected but not unwelcome, Y/N found herself eagerly returning the kiss. She leaned into his touch as his hands gripped her hips beneath the water, pulling her in deeper. She peered down curiously as he seemingly stood before her now. Where there was once scales was replaced with skin. She pulled back in confusion, her hands gripping onto his shoulders. “Is that something you can just do?” She asked breathlessly, gesturing down to where his tail once was.

Jason leaned forward, capturing her mouth with his own once again. “Yeah, when I feel like it,” He whispered against her skin, sending shivers across her skin. “Do you want this Y/N, I'm not using my voice against you, It’s all up to you.” Suddenly all her questions about the persevering feelings of being drawn to him were answered.

Still now, even without the added pressure of his enticement she found herself desperately wanting more of him. “Yeah, yes, please.” She affirmed. His hands moved to her shoulders, pushing the fabric of her sleeves down her arms allowing him to easily tug the dress down and free her breasts.

Y/N hissed at the sudden cool air against her nipples, pulling the skin taught. Jason hoisted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he moved to press her back against the rock he initially was resting against. Her lower half was lifted out of the water now, droplets running down her smooth skin as she was left exposed. The fabric of her dress was bunched around her waist as Jason leaned down once more to kiss her tenderly.

She placed her hands against his chest as she allowed herself to be completely enveloped by his loving touches. The calloused pads of his fingers moved across her body so gently it almost tickled, finally coming to rest on her spread inner thighs. They pulled away from each other breathlessly. His lips came to rest on the outer shell of her ear, “Beg for me,” He commanded her softly.

A high whine worked its way from deep within her as she felt his fingers inch dangerously closer to her heat. “Please Jason, I want you, want your fingers inside me.” She gasped, the words coming from her all on their own. She felt the tingle under her skin that she was coming to associate with his voice.

He grinned down at her, his thumb came to gently rub over her clit, eliciting a moan so loud it bounced across the water. A heat rose to Y/N’s cheeks as she heard it echo. “You sound so pretty.” He mumbled, kissing down her neck as he slipped a digit into her waiting hole. She sucked him in desperately. He curled his finger, rubbing against the soft spongy spot inside her. Her legs seized around him, back arching up off the jagged rock as she pushed her hips down onto his hand.

“Oh god, Jase’ please more.” She pleaded, her fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders as she clung to him. He complied easily, slipping a second finger inside stretching her out just that little bit more that left her mewling pathetically. “F-fuck.” She stuttered out.

With each curl of his hand, each press of his thumb against her clit she could feel with warmth unraveling from within her lower belly. “Cum for me.” Jason sucked at her collarbone gently, lapping at each bruise he made with his tongue. His next command had her release crashing over her. She came around his fingers, shaking in his hold as she pulled him closer, her head nestled between his neck and shoulder as she cried out softly.

Each breath she sucked in was shaky as she came down from the high, her body shivering as Jason pulled his fingers from her. He brought them up to her lips. “Open,” He spoke, prodding her lips apart as he pressed his fingers coated in her juices against her tongue. Obediently she lapped at them, sucking them clean with a moan. “Good girl,” He praised her with a smile.

Y/N pulled back with a pop, a string of saliva connecting her to Jason's fingers as she looked up at him, her pupils blown and fucked out. “Fuck me?” She asked him hopefully, rolling her hips down to seek contact with him. He raised his eyebrows with another grin.

“As you wish sweetheart.” He rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip. He reached down, grabbing the base of his cock to align himself with her dripping entrance. He rubbed the head against her swollen and abused clit. She hissed in response, body attempting to lean away from his touch but he held her steady in place. He chuckled lightly at her, reveling in the slightly annoyed glance she gave him.

Without warning her sunk into her, in one go fully sheathing himself, their hip bones pressed together as she yelped in surprise. He shushed her with a soothing whisper, pushing her damp hair behind her ears as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “I got you, don't worry.” He sighed, content at the warmth surrounding him.

He rolled his hips against her, without pulling back, putting an intoxicating pressure against her walls and her clit simultaneously. “M’gonna move now, kay’?” He warned her before pulling back just a bit, pressing forward and back slowly. He moved like the ocean on a gentle day, pushing and pulling like the tide as he worked himself inside her. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, breathy moans escaping her each time he pushed forward. “Oh god, Jason.” She whined, tossing her head back. “Fuck, sing to me.” She asked. He stilled his movements in surprise. He stared down at her in awe.

“You want me to sing to you while I fuck you baby?” He asked teasingly, hands gripping tighter at her hips. He leveraged himself forward, thrusts becoming more desperate. He leaned forward, humming his song into her ear gruffly. His voice a little lower, choppier as he fucked into her. The melody had Y/N climaxing a second time, the vibrations of his voice against her skin sending her over the edge once more.

Her body went lax in his arms as he chased his own relief after her. Gasping out the final words of his tune as quickly pulled out, hand grasping his cock as he shot his load across her tummy. Hot spurts of cum coating her skin as his head dropped to her shoulder.

They breathed together, for a moment, the air silent around them as their heartbeats calmed. Y/N reached down, swiping at the release across her skin with her finger and bringing it to Jason's mouth. “Open,” She mimicked him with a giggle. He looked up at her from where he rested his head and parted his lips.

His tongue swirled around her finger, tasting his own fluids eagerly as he sucked the digit clean. He grinned up at her as he swallowed. She watched him in awe, one of her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. “Thanks for the reward.” She tugged him up to kiss him once more.

They lay there for a long moment, in silence as the water brushed against the skin. Slowly the tide pulled them in deeper, Jason's hold on her body tightening as they sunk deeper and deeper beneath the waves. Locked onto Jason's lips, Y/N was unable to gasp for air as she was pulled under into the darkness, the last glimmer of light in her eyes the glowing stone around his neck.

#metallica #metallica fanfiction #jason newsted #jason newsted x reader #metallica/reader #jason newsted/reader

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ttrpgcafe · 30 days ago

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Heya! TTRPG trick or treat, please! 🎃👻

This one's got a backstory, so stick with me.

When I first got into TTRPGs, I learned about the big 6: D&D, Pathfinder, CoC, Cyberpunk, WoD, and Shadowrun. Of those, I've still, to this day, only played 5, and Shadowrun has remained the odd man out, despite having probably my favorite setting of all of them after Pathfinder. Part of this is its reputation for being a really crunchy game, keeping me from getting players, and part of it was that it's a very crunchy game that explains its rules SO POORLY (in recent editions at least, I'm told 3rd is the best in this department) that I couldn't even really convince my friends to get over the hump because it's hard for ME to grok the rules.

For well over a decade, Shadowrun has been my white whale, always on my shelf, never my table. So I did what any other well meaning TTRPG player does when they have a setting they like but a system for that setting they hate: I looked at every hack on the planet for every other system.

So here's your treat: every Shadowrun hack I've found!

Up first, Runners in the Shadows by Mark Cleveland:

This is a Forged in the Dark hack for the Shadowrun setting that is probably one of the better ones for emulating the "crew going on heists and doing cool shit" vibes that Shadowrun tries really hard to say is its core. I'm a sucker for FitD games in general, I think the system is *so* elegant, and I struggle to find a system more suited for the setting (SR's own rules included) than Blades, so this one has to go at the top.

With that said, there are still plenty more!

I'm going to give 2 PbtA games a shout out here, the first I've played, the second I haven't, but have heard plenty about.

Up first: City of Mist!

"But that's not a shadowrun hack!" I hear you saying behind your screen, and you're almost right, it technically isn't, BUT it's asymptote certainly approaches shadowrun, for my math nerds out there. This is a game about the (literal) power of stories, about struggles against an unseen and unknowable force trying desperately to remove every semblance of magic from your life, and about the yearning to keep your mundane life despite, or maybe in spite of, your magical adventures. City of Mist proper is a fantastic gritty noir urban fantasy game that works wonderfully as the framework for an early 6th world setting with minor tweaks, but it's sequel: Metro Otherscape, leans into the Shadowrun of it all, adding a 3rd axis along which your character can struggle, being "noise". In Otherscape, you're balancing a mundane, magical, technological life, and trying not to let any of those three overwhelm your being. A lot of cyberpunk games try to say that cybernetics reduce your humanity in one way or another, but I think Otherscape does the best job at embodying that balance in a way that isn't deeply ableist in its messaging. It's ALSO the only PbtA game I actually LIKE.

Hot take: I can't stand Moves, they annoy me to no end, and needlessly complicate an otherwise brilliant system. I might make a follow up post if anyone wants to hear my deeply bad take, but for now, just know that I'm a ttrpg heretic, and we can move on.

Otherscape completely does away with moves, and instead just lets the MC and the players decide whatever is most relevant to the action being attempted! It solves almost every problem I've ever had with PbtA games, AND kicks ass as a shadowrun stand-in, so this also deserves a place at or near the top.

Second PbtA game: Shadowrun in The Sprawl. This one is a hack of The Sprawl, a PbtA cyberpunk game in its own right, SRiTS adds the setting and magic of SR to its formula, and that's all I know about either system, due to my aforementioned PbtA-phobia. I've included this one for thoroughness, not because I have any stake in it.

Most of the other hacks I've seen use generic systems like Fate, Savage World, Cypher system, Genesys, and a hero system hack I've heard a bit about but can't find anywhere. All of this is to say that there is a wealth of options for generic systems that try to emulate SR, and most of them are fine. The last game I'm going to talk about though uses its own system, its own setting, and manages to be completely, utterly unique while capturing the vibes of SR so well that I'm still a little in awe at how well it does all of the above. I'm also not 100% certain it's a particularly good game, but the fact that I'm unsure about it should tell you that it's definitely still better than SR proper, because I KNOW that system is bad.

Without further ado: NewEdo

NewEdo is fascinating to me in that it feels like the same jump from Shadowrun that 3rd edition D&D made from 2e, or even the same kind of jump from 3rd to 4th, where you can clearly see the spine of the game it's evolving, but almost every other part of the system has been changed and improved in new, interesting ways that can still be used to tell VERY similar stories, but has its own identity at the same time. I mentioned that City of Mist is Asymptotic to SR earlier, and I stand by that assessment, but I'd say that NewEdo is closer to a parallel line, or a tangent from SR's line, if we're using the same terminology. To get into the nitty gritty, NE uses a system the author describes as "Crunchy lite easily managed", which amounts to a priority system during character creation very similar to the one SR uses, but with each tier you can select having pretty impactful ramifications for your character going forward. The easiest example is the modifications priority, at its top tier, you basically make a mythical creature into robo cop for your character's ancestry, but at its absolute lowest tier, your body actively rejects any and all implants, such that your character will NEVER have implants. On the same note, cyberware is handled REALLY well, with your body only being able to handle so much at a time, but otherwise the only ramification is a "biofeedback" line on your fate card, which I'll get to right now!

Almost every option your character picks gets added to a little personalized random d100 table on your character sheet called the fate card. This includes your character's crit rate, the possibility of a deity intervening on your behalf, or the aforementioned biofeedback line, which briefly fucks you up as you cyberware malfunctions. You get new lines on your fate card through picking certain character options, making impactful decisions during the story, and otherwise fulfilling the express goals of your character. The entire system kind of hinges on the fate card as a mechanic, which is weird, because I don't think I super love it, as it adds additional rolling to an already pretty dice heavy system.

Which brings me to the dice! New edo uses a d10 as its primary die for dice pools when rolling your characteristics like strength, speed, etc, but the rest of the polyhedral family for your skills. (D20 excluded) The skill system is a little funky, but I like it. Basically, each skill has a rank, which indicates how many dice it has, but each rank is assigned a die, each having a different cost associated with it. So my swordsmanship could be rank 4, but what that really means is that I've got 1d6, 2d4, and a d8 that I get to add to my strength rolls every time I attack with a sword. As far as resolution, you total all of your dice together to try and hit a target number. I don't have the table handy, but it's something like 15 for a moderately challenging task, and up to 40 for a nearly impossible task. I dislike addition in this context because math at the table usually slows things down, but it looks like you're probably only rolling 2-5 dice at a time at the beginning, which isn't *that* bad.

You'll notice that the two major mechanics I've mentioned so far have received pretty luke-warm responses from me, and that sounds like I hate the system, but those aren't that makes me like (\love?) this system is the back end, the choices that happen during character creation, and the things that those choices let you do. Every skill is attached to feats that unlock at different skills, magic is a skill, and its feats unlock better relationships with the Kami in your repertoire (magic is up next, I promise) and your class (path, they call it) doubles as a way to tie your character to the world, with each being associated with an in world faction which gives your character an immediate stake in the world and their community. It's a lot, but it all comes together to make something greater than the sum of its parts.

The last thing I want to talk about is the magic system, because I found it deeply interesting, as it's one of the very few skill based magic systems I've interacted with, and one of my favorites on a narrative level. Instead of spells or spell schools, your character instead develops relationships with Kami, and each new "order" or "type" of Kami your character gets access to represents them finding out how to supplicate, make an offering, or otherwise convince a given Kami to do a certain effect. If you have a relationship with the fire Kami (that's plural, not singular), then your character has learned that their local fire Kami really like a certain type of hot bun, so they offer them that hot bun after a scene where they invoked those kami, to maintain their relationship. Mechanically, this works instantaneously, you simply make a roll on your "Shinpi" skill, invoke whatever "rote" you want to use, and the relationship building is left for the GM and player to work out at the table.

(That's the last I have to say on the game itself, but I would ask anyone who has read the game and is more intimately familiar with Japanese culture to tell me if the game feels respectful to that culture, because I truly don't know, and the book doesn't list any sensitivity consultants. The author is Canadian, but spent many years sailing to and from Japan as a professional sailor, so idk. )

I guess the moral to this post, if there is one, is to acknowledge when a system or setting has faults, but learn from them, and don't ignore the good or cool stuff that's there! It might inspire you to make some amazing shit like City of Mist, Metro Otherscape, or New Edo, all of which, their relationship to Shadowrun aside, are fantastic games in their own right! (NewEdo is still up in the air, but it has its teeth in me, and that has to count for something)

That ends my trick or treat, thanks for asking!

#shadowrun #ttrpg trick or treat #city of mist #cyberpunk #indie ttrpgs #ttrpg #indie ttrpg #ttrpgs #forged in the dark #powered by the apocalypse #newedo #cypher system #fate core #genesys

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ewanmitchelll · 10 months ago

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Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (X): Long Live.

Imagine you are transported to the past… instants before the legendary battle between Aemond and his uncle Daemon Targaryen occurs. What will you do? Part I.

Warnings: drama, angst, smut—fluff; loosely based on “Outlander”.

Warnings 2: alternative universe concerning the end of “GOT”’s season 8 where Daenerys lives and Jon Snow never killed her, with a more modern take.

Warnings 3: long post.

***

• Current days.

With the war coming to an end and the recent coronation of Queen Daenerys, your life has finally returned to what it used to be… before the threat of the Others, when you were forced to flee from Winterfell to go down South and live with your uncle and aunt all the whilst the rest of your family decided to move to Sunspear, in Dorne.

You start a new life at King’s Landing, taking a course at the Westerosi University, making new friends and even finding a few dates for yourself.

“We should definitely head to Aegon’s Hill”, your friend Margaery says. “There’s a very mystical place, abandoned after the Usurper fell”, she adds in reference to Cersei Lannister’s death by treason.

You hesitate, but what’s there to lose? Security has been restored thanks to the joint efforts of Queen Daenerys and her King Consort, Jaehaerys II after years of civil war plus the madness coming from the north.

“We should celebrate there”, another friend named Lyna adds.

And that is how it all begins. But who could tell what was going to happen?

In the first hours of the morning next you, already dressed in red, black stripes pants and a white, winter like blouse, get your fundamental things in your backpack with an adventure feeling you cannot get rid off.

“And here we go”, you mumble to yourself after getting some coffee.

You hear the sound of a “beeeee”, and you know it’s Margery on the car. You wave a quick goodbye from your aunt and uncle before dropping into it.

“Don’t get yourself too late at home!”, you hear your aunt yelling over her shoulder.

You laugh quietly before yelling back:

“When have I ever failed you?”

And so you are driven all the way to Aegon’s hill, singing a random song seconded by your girl friends.

“I feel so excited about going there”, you, usually the quiet one, find yourself chatty this morning. Is the coffee the cause of it? Maybe. “I was reading about it and rumour has it there are a few enchantments surrounding the stone blocks that remain still.”

“You can’t honestly believe this shit”, Lyna reclines back the backseat and gives you a look. “It’s all mythical. Stories tell us that that hill received the Conqueror’s name because that was where he flew with the great Balerion.”

“But before his arrival there used to be the spot of ancient religions that turned such spot one very meaningful for their practices and all. Aegon himself kept it, aware of its importance”, you honestly don’t know what’s with you, but part of you likes the mysterious aura that place has.

“There is also a legend dated from the days of the Blackfyre rebellion that if you are not careful enough you can be tossed into the past”, says Margaery.

“How past that is, one wonders”, Lyna muses, eventually taking in the idea.

“That depends. The three eyed crow could tell… but it’s been said the man was killed by the Night King.”

You tilt your head as if pondering what the girls are talking about.

“I still can’t believe he died during the war”, you muse out loud.

“He sacrificed for the realm. Apparently he always knew that.”

No one dares to say anything. The Great War is still a sensitive topic to many and your group isn’t an exception to it. Eventually, however, you manage to get to the hill.

It’s large and surrounded by very ancient stones indeed. The beauty in its mysticism makes all the more alluring to you. Something so captivating calls you and, distracted, as if you have been hypnotized, you attend it.

In baby steps you walk, ignoring the bubbling of your friends. A soft hymn, as if played by a harp, is heard.

“Do you hear this, girls?”, you turn at them, missing the mist that rises from nowhere.

But they seem unable to hear you. You try to reach them, especially when the sound of an earthquake scares the hell out of you. You grip tightly the stone, or try to, but it’s when everything spins and you scream.

When your friends turn at you, you are no longer there.

***

• Days of War

I said remember this moment in the back of my mind. The time we stood with our shaking hands. The crowds in stands went wild…

A thunder scratches through the black clouds, roaring it violently. It only announces bad omens. Men paint the soil with their blood in red all the whilst dragons rip skies in cursed fighting.

As it starts to rain, Aemond Targaryen prepares to fight his bitter enemy, confident that he will bring victory to his side. Rhaenyra has been suffering with many losses, betrayals, no one believes her cause anymore.

Dressed in dark green leather, he doesn’t mind the rain that soaks his long silver hair. A twisted, evil smirk is seen as he rests his hand over his sword sheath.

“And here we go, Vhagar”, he mumbles when climbing Aegon’s hill where his dragon, the legendary beast that followed Balerion and Meraxes in the conquest of Westeros many moons ago, awaits.

But it’s precisely when seeing Vhagar agitated and spitting fire that has Aemond startled. What could be the cause of its state? He is ready to run to it when he sees… you.

A scared woman in what he judges to be in her mid 20’s has just tumbled before him. Dressing in strange clothes, your hair is soaked and you shake. You are bloody scared, he can tell, and in other circumstances he’d shoo you away.

However, you not only possess strange objects he’d never seen, but something else that captures his attention. And when you see who’s the man that stands right before you… you remember your history lessons.

And you scream.

Right before you pass out.

“What the fuck?”, Aemond breathes heavily, wide eyed gazing at you. Part of him tells to leave you there, but another cannot. Curiosity takes the best so he forgets the battle for now and carries you with him. “Vhagar, it appears we are delaying the freaking encounter this day. For now.”

Not in the best of the moods, he is, however, intrigued by you. As he flies with you to his secretive spot—away from Alys, he keeps it in mind—, he wonders about your whereabouts and why you dress such unusual clothing. And what’s this object you carry behind your back? A product of witchcraft perhaps?

He narrows his eyes, suspiciously so. But in the midst of this long term war, one thing is for sure: you have brought him back the inquisitiveness that he’s long lost…

***

When you open your eyes, it takes you a few minutes to realize where you are… and when realizing that your clothes are changed, you are forced to acknowledge that whatever happened the day before was not a dream.

You begin to panic when you see your surroundings. You are in a large, comfortable bed with lamb skin made blankets over your frame. The furniture is not as modern as the one your aunt has in her household.

You swallow hard, scanning still your eyes s modest desk, and a simple window. All of this makes you miss the discreet presence of Lord Aemond, who’d been watching you from the side of the chamber you haven’t noticed yet.

“I wonder the cause behind your astonishment”, his husky voice breaks the silence in such a powerful way that you nearly jump out of the bed, which makes the prince amused.

Never before had you stood a royal before, even if this man is not the kindest of his station. You force yourself to remember your history lessons and behave in the most natural way possible.

Therefore you stand and dip into what you judge a careful curtsy. Aemond’s eyebrows are raised, arms folded. But he is no fool.

“You are not from here”, he continues. “Who are you? A very weird spy sent by my dear sister to distract me?”

In other circumstances you’d have laughed out loud. But you are too frightened to do that. Aemond sees you are shaking, a clear sign of fear.

“Well? Has the cat eaten your tongue, my lady?”, he sighs heavily, not the most patient of men.

“I… No, lord. I am not”, never before you’ve been thankful for learning the ways of nobility, aware few of the etiquette has altered in the course of centuries. “I… I am not your sister’s partisan.”

Aemond can tell you speak the truth, but he approaches you, shortening the distance between you two. Then he shows you your backpack and all the things there are still inside.

“What are these then? Are you a witch, lady? Has my sister bought you so you could use such witchcraft against us, against me?”

Part of you finds ridiculous how this is going. Another is trying not to laugh at the face of danger. The reasonable self there is still in you prevails by masking your sentiments, reminding that you need to conquer this man’s trust if you want to go back home.

“If I tell you, lord, you will not believe me”, you opt for the truth. If the prince has long decided to burn you, then what does it matter?

Aemond is surprised by the moment you lift your eyes. Something about your gaze shakes his heart, as if bringing the tempest within. He ignores the shiver that now runs over his spine.

“Try me”, he commmands you to.

“I must have your word that you shall not burn me.”

The prince side smirks at you.

“Do I have the reputation of slaying ladies or sending them to death? Believe me, my lady, my mistress has been associated with dark magic and here I stand.”

Without thinking twice, though, the following words roll out of your tongue:

“But you are renowned as the kinslayer. That speaks for itself.” It’s only then you know you’ve angered the prince. Shit. “I’m sorry, lord.”

“You are my prisoner”, Aemond snaps back at you. “Bear in mind you need my favour if you have any love for your life.”

Your eyes are puddled with tears. Once too proud, you slide to your knees and beg him for your life.

“Lord, I’ve been a victim of witchcraft. I’ve been casted here, that is the truth and only truth. I come from the future and there is where I belong. I’ve never meant to stay in your way. I beg you to spare me, we have no cause for otherwise.”

Aemond’s good eye is slightly wide. He can tell, being a good observer, that you are not lying even if his reason cannot conceive it. On the other hand, what surprises him more is the way you are begging him. He’d taken you as a proud woman. The scene now disconcerts him.

“I must depart. I am needed and…”

You know you should not meddle in the past, aware of the consequences. This is a bad reputed prince, the chronicles helped making you dislike him greatly. However, you depend on him in going back to Aegon’s Hill. Therefore…

“Don’t go. You will die.”

Aemond’s eyebrows raise epically.

“What? Listen to me, young lady. Whomever you may be, sent by my sister or not, you shall better hold your tongue.”

Oh this couldn’t go any worse, could it? You sigh heavily.

“And then what? I need you, lord, to find my way back home. If you die today, I’ll be stuck in here for good.”

“Perhaps then I should have left you to Alys.”

“No!”, something about your cry scares the untamed prince. “Lord, please. I…”

A moment of silence. Neither could believe in what is going right before their eyes. You, stuck in the middle of another war; him, in the presence of what he judges to be a product of witchcraft.

“How should I address my lady?” Aemond opts to begin again.

And when you soften, so does he.

“Y/N, lord.”

“Y/N, I am Aemond Targaryen. Looks like there’s so much to catch on…”

To change the fate of Westeros, he stays.

***

The night you danced like you knew our lives would never be the same. You held your head like a hero on a history book page. It was the end of a decade, but the start of an age.

Aemond’s good eye studies you as you eat like you haven’t been fed for ages. Your hair is still hanging lose behind your back and you are still wearing a pair of delicate earrings he’d never seen before, but all else makes you look like a woman of his own times.

“So the enchantments of Aegon’s Hill are true”, he muses, breaking the silence as he takes a sip of his wine.

“They are, lord.”

“But never heard of a case where they had… succeeded, in fact.” He tilts his head. “What proof can you give me you are actually from there?”

“My objects aren’t proof enough?”

This silences the prince for now.

“I do not think wise to meddle in these events”, you say in turn. “Lord knows what that’d be like for my own days.”

Aemond is intrigued as he watches you pale. Then curiosity knocks his pride out.

“What’s like? The future?”

You wonder if you should tell him. As if he reads you, Aemond adds:

“Eventually I die. I am not asking you how. But your days, lady, I want to know. How better are they from mine?”

Sadness sparks behind your y/c eyes, a sight that inspires sympathy on him.

“Worse, I dare say. I was first raised in a long civil war. And then… another came, worse still. I really have no words to put it.”

“I cannot conceive a war worst than civil war”, says Aemond. “But another civil war bled Westeros?”

“Yes”, you try not to speak too much.

“Fuck”, Aemond grumbles under his breath. “All of this… for nothing?”

Not knowing what to say, you choose silence. And not knowing how to react, Aemond breathes in frustration. He decides to leave you.

And you end up that evening alone. But early next morning, Aemond, too intrigued with your presence to remember to fight his enemies, paces anxiously around the castle. He must know, he needs to know. And when waiting becomes unbearable, you show up.

Dressed in a blue velvet gown, you look properly like a lady of these times even though you cannot mask well your discomfort. Aemond’s own thoughts disappear before the sight of you, feeling so lost, so… out of place.

“My lady”, he doesn’t admit how taken aback he is by your beauty. “I pray you have slept better this night.”

“Not really, I’m afraid”, and your red eyes are a clear sign of how you actually spent your night. Aemond frowns at that, preoccupied. “I shall make my mission taking you home… after the battle that awaits me.”

You should not care, but you feel disconcerted by his presence. The way he looks at you says all.

“I cannot convince you otherwise”, you sigh. “Can you at least leave me at Aegon’s Hill, though?”

A request that defies your sanity, you know well. One that poses your boldly despair very clear. But you are now a survivor struggling to live in such a strange world.

However, Aemond is not willing to let go easily of you. Inspired by mixed feelings, he says:

“You are my prisoner now, remember? I shall keep your secret”, he approaches you slow, shortening the distance between the two of you. “Just tell me how to beat my uncle, how to win this war.”

“Oh Lords”, you find support in the wall. “What kind of question is that? In one moment you…”

“Just tell me!”, Aemond cuts you, rather impatiently.

“I cannot! Lord, if I do, the world I know my disappear.”

He realizes the dilemma you are. Confused by all of this mess, Aemond hesitates.

“Just stay here until I come back.”

Without waiting for any response, there he leaves you, but not to fight Daemon Targaryen. Not now. And you weep because this is all you can do for now.

***

You try to leave the castle, disguised as a peasant, but your plan comes to fail when Aemond comes back and from above, he spots a strange figure running through the woods.

Now here you are, a prisoner again. This time the prince is in a better mood.

“You are really trying to get away of me. In other circumstances, I’d be mad at you for this bluntness”, he muses, offering you wine as you sit in front of the fireplace.

You shoot him a glare, not saying anything.

“What am I to you but a toy so you can play?” Desperation hits a different tone and before you know you burst into tears, swiping away his mug smirk.

After a while, Aemond comes to his senses. He reluctantly takes your hand and when both of you see fingers intertwining, a different heat seems to rise.

“I lament profoundly to cause you pain, lady Y/N”, says he. “But this is who I am. Shouldn’t you know that?”

“I believed in other men’s judgement where you are concerned, but now…”

“Now what?”, he asks, somewhat anxious.

“Now I know in the hard way we should be better than be led by prejudices.”

Aemond leans back in his chair, thoughtful. You realize he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“Wise words, lady Y/N.” And then he muses. “I died, didn’t I? We lost this war, didn’t we?”

You avoid his gaze, opting for silence. But your silence screams unspoken words that reach the Prince’s heart. And he sighs, in between melancholy and resignation.

***

The following days you are not entitled as the lord Aemond’s prisoner any longer. Showing some colours in the horizon, hope stands as he presents you as the illegitimate daughter of some nobleman loyal to the green house who’d been deceased in the previous battles.

With a more convincing background, you are better instructed by maids of his trust in the manners of the times. Soon, you are offered a place to serve Queen Helaena.

It’s when you remember that droll tragedy.

“Oh no!”

Aemond raises his eye at you.

“What makes you deny this privilege any lady would kill to earn?”

You blush.

“I mean to say…”, you struggle with words, “I am unfit for such a position.”

“Allow me to disagree with you”, Aemond smiles and suddenly the view pleases your heart very much. “There shall be a ball on behalf of my sister’s birthday this weekend.”

“Will we dance?”, you blurt it out before you realize.

Aemond’s cheeks go pink at your spontaneity.

“Dance, you say”, he muses thoughtfully. “I am no dancer, my lady.”

“We are performers in life. Therefore anyone can be a dancer.”

“Quite a wit you possess”, says he in reluctant admittance. “Very well. If it pleases my lady…”

One smile is enough to turn tables.

“It does.”

And a new fate is sealed.

***

“It doesn’t feel like you are an outsider”, so mumbles Aemond to you alone as you two dance amidst courtiers.

It’s a sweet melody, cheerful somewhat in its beat, certainly bringing many presents a smile on their faces. The Dowager Queen looks pleased and delighted, entertained by her twins. One look at them and you are remembered by the upcoming events.

Oh, the burden of knowing too much. You swallow the bitter thought as you dance with the rogue prince. Earlier the Queen, who had welcomed you in the merriest of the moods, had said no one but a traveler could bring a man as her brother to dance. Her remark, not taken seriously by many, did manage to leave you uncomfortable. After all, you forgot that she had the Targaryen ability of possessing dreams.

“How come?”, you inquire, and it doesn’t take long before your gaze meets his.

He doesn’t strike you as the villain.

“You fit here just fine”, Aemond whispers in response.

As you twirl, hands barely touching his, you feel you are about to fall right into the trap.

“Do you think so?” And then you flash him a mischievous smirk. “Who’d ever thought we could get along?”

“Who, indeed?”

And then the dance comes to an end. Aemond takes your hand and bows, as you curtsy. But when he presses his lips against your skin, your heart races.

It appears you found your hero, after all.

***

Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you. I was screaming, "Long live all the magic we made” and bring on all the pretenders. One day we will be remembered…

It’s late night. Aemond’s thoughts are only on the strange woman who was tossed out of time and space to go straight to the core of the civil war that will be known in posterity as dance of dragons.

He’s been so captivated that he’s long forsaken Mistress Rivers and his obsession in defeating his sworn enemy, his own uncle Daemon Targaryen. Therefore he decides to go after you. Covered by the shadows of night with only the guidance of faint candlelights, he soon finds your bedchambers.

There is hesitation at first. His own thoughts are confused, his heart hammers in silent agony. There is half hope, half atonement in his heart beat.

Nevertheless, he came too far to stop now. So he knocks at long last.

There is no answer at first. And then…

“My lord Aemond”, you are surprised to find him on the other side of the door. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Despite the admonishment in your words, he can tell there is amusement in your eyes.

“Aye. But I couldn’t find myself able to sleep. And neither could you.”

A faint blush paints your cheeks, earning him his typical smirk.

“I wonder if the same thought has been the cause of our restless nights”, he begins, eyeing you up and down, much to your discomfort.

Dressed in your long white nightgown with your hair down in your back, you look as ethereal as your background. There is beauty, but there is also something unknown in your aura. There is a connection between you two.

And you, on the other hand, are more than familiar with the rules of those days you are now inserted. However, are you able to resist this man?

You wait, though. Maybe you’ve figured this out in the wrong way?

“Your silence mortifies me, lady”, Aemond sighs impatiently. “Is this not evidence enough of how I came to love you?”

Your eyes go wide and you almost drop the candle you’ve been holding.

“Aemond… I am hardly the most appropriate woman for you.”

“Titles and lands are nothing for me”, he responds anxiously.

It’s when he takes your free hand into his, locking fingers at last. To feel his warm skin against yours, colder by comparison, gives goosebumps and small shocks as a result. You fear that you are about to lose your control.

“Aemond…”

He steps forward, saying nothing until he closes the door behind him and puts the candle somewhere safe. Only then he holds you against him and finally kisses you like you’ve never been kissed.

And indeed you have never experienced the firm grasp of a man, the decisions of one confident who knows what he wants. You could have never imagined that one of the kind exists and could desire you this much.

Worse perhaps is to discover how long you’ve been dreaming about this. As his lips clash into yours, your morals die unheard. You let him reclaim you, shuddering under his intense grip, his burning touch.

Before you could do anything, though, Aemond lies you on your bed, lifting your skirts to your waist and then…

“Oh, Lord!”, you whimper out loud. “Aemond…!”

This is certainly the best experience you’ve had. And so easily your legs get heavy, that heat comes down your belly and you… burn.

You want to pull him over you, but the messy prince flashes you a side smirk, dropping by your side.

“Do you honestly believe I shall deflower my lady in a most ungallant manner?”, he chuckles as he watches you frown in frustration.

You raise your eyebrows. You hesitate in whether telling him about your previous experiences. Unwise it may be to be honest, but worse is to ignore your conscience’s voice.

“My prince, as much as I appreciate your kindness and respect to me…”

He furrows his eyebrows.

“In my days these matters have changed significantly”, and then you are quick to add. “It doesn’t mean I’ve had plenty of others, though.”

You give up justifying yourself when you watch Aemond struggle with comprehending your point. Eventually, however, he cedes the battle and says:

“I am not an example of morality, I suppose. Even so I stand what I said.”

Your face lightens up.

“You cannot honestly mean…”

“…that I intend to espouse you?”, Aemond scoffs. “Of course I do. It’s a better way to protect you, by the way. These are trying times, my lady.”

That being said, you cuddle onto him, forgetting completely there is a bloody civil war outside and that you are not studying the period anymore, but living it at its fullest.

***

It is often remarked how to achieve peace one must be prepared for war. And in war, few are familiar with good sense.

Whatever are your thoughts about it, your first taste of tragedy comes in the form of revenge. You are just going back from a stroll outdoors at the gardens when screams get at you.

As you rush to the indoors, you are prevented by Aemond.

“You should be better left out of this. Let me resolve it.”

“No”, you protest. “Aemond, I…”

But he isn’t listening. He leaves you there, as if you are a ghost haunting the castle. Your eyes start to get teary as you realize what part all of this is about.

You cover your ears as the screams continue endlessly, echoing in a kind of pain that you’ve been familiar once. The sounds awake old traumas, opening wounds long thought to be healed.

You can’t stay in there. Useless you feel, therefore you motion outdoors. All you do is walk. Perhaps this is the better time to go to Aegon’s Hill. You want to go home, you don’t want to spend any more time there…

However, once you do, you are prevented from doing so by Aemond. The rogue prince, paled with angst, is perplexed at the thought of you gone. Despaired, he comes after you, thankfully not needing to reach Vhagar for that purpose.

“I cannot stay here”, you tell him, body shaking in evident signs of trauma. “Please, take me home.”

“Y/N…”

“Please! I don’t belong here, Aemond!”

“Yes, you do. You belong with me”, he cups your cheeks and then reading your eyes, he denudes your soul, almost if by chance he has a glimpse of the future through you. “Whatever happened there… and whatever happened here are not who you are. Listen to me, Y/N. It’s you and I against the world. I am honestly sorry these are the circumstances we are now in, but we must be brave.”

There are so many words but none leaves your mouth. Aemond embraces you, rocking you in his arms.

“You already knew what was going to happen”, he is not asking a question. “But this is not the reaction one might’ve expected. You are also a survivor… of war. Bloody seven hells, Y/N. I’m very sorry, my lady.”

You melt in his embrace, sobbing as the nightmare of leaving everything behind in the midst of panic and fear strikes you again. You’ve never seen yourself as a survivor, until now.

“Come inside”, he asks you gently. “Don’t go now. Please.”

Never before he was seen vulnerable, but then again so are you. It had been a while since your wounds were so crudely open, left to bleed in such a painful manner. You’d think you overcame it, but not entirely as you’d like to believe.

Here you are, however, comforted by this character whom you were taught to hate all thanks to the chroniclers that registered his bad deeds. Although he may have done such, and you won’t find excuse for his bad reputation, he’s so much more than that, than words written by thirds.

He’s your prince. He’s your hero and you shall not think anymore of it.

***

After these dark days are gone, sun rises in paradise again. Aemond invites you to fly Vhagar with him.

The decision comes after Rhaenyra and her husband Daemon are put off the show for now. The greens hold victory for now, and even you forget the upcoming events.

“I cannot fly her!”, you shake at the thought. “Do you want to see me dead?”

Aemond laughs heartily and the sound of it melts your heart and soothes your mind. He twirls you around him before holding you against his chest.

“Do you trust in me so little that I’d let you slip so easily?”

You giggle.

“I am just not a brave woman you might expect me to be”, so you say, drowning in that good purple eye.

“Oh, dearest. You are a lot braver than you’d judge.”

Saying so, he kisses you on the lips, and you save his taste as you gladly return it.

I said remember this feeling. I passed the pictures around of all the years that we stood there on the sidelines wishing for right now. We are the kings and the queens. You traded your baseball cap for a crown

You cast him a long loving glance as the prince holds your hand, giving you side smirk before leading the way to Vhagar. This ancient beast, a companion to the Westerosi conquest two other Valyrian dragons, seems to read you the moment your gazes meet.

A sight too frightening to behold, one you’ve seen before the moment you were tossed in this time and space. You recollect the fear that shook your bones and froze your reason and this seems to happen again.

“Don’t be afraid. She knows you are with me”, says Aemond in a nonchalant manner.

You nod your head, but Aemond feels your body shaking. He gently pulls you against him and in a matter of seconds you are suddenly mounting that legendary creature.

“Holy cow!”, you scream.

The silver haired prince laughs quietly, before whispering the words in Valyrian to Vhagar start to fly.

“Calm down, love. Don’t be fearful, it’s worse if you do.”

“I am no dragon rider, Aemond”, you snap at him, eyes going wide as Vhagar begins to rise higher, flying in an incredible speed—fast enough according to your judgement and lack of experience where dragons are concerned, not entirely fast when comparing Vhagar to younger dragons like Caraxes, for example.

But all Aemond does is laugh away your fears. He takes your hands, holding them as he shows he’s commanding the situation. Despite your fears, the adrenaline comes at it and so suddenly you are flying higher than getting an airplane to Dorne.

“AEMOND!”

The silver haired finds adorable the way you trust him, holding onto him as if your life depends on him. But he knows you are overcoming a fear of heights and this only grows his admiration of you.

Eventually though, as if Vhagar is sensing your fear, she slows down and only then she settles in a pace that doesn’t fight you. It’s when you risk patting her back, stroking your delicate fingers over the asperity of the creature’s skin.

“Remember this feeling”, he whispers in your ear. “This is what freedom is like. This is what it means to never let anyone hold the reins of your life.”

“I see the lights of Westeros shining for us”, you don’t even know what you are thinking, but these words seem to make sense for you.

“They are”, Aemond spots the fire pits in towers where orange flames wipe away the fog that instaure that evening. “But you shine the brighter, my dear.”

You blush violently at his words. Never before you felt so loved and understood. Slightly turning your head, and locking gazes with him, you tell this silver haired prince open words regarding your heart.

“I love you, Aemond. Truthfully, I do. I only shine brighter because of you.”

His wide gaze shows no emotion, perhaps skeptical about the genuine feeling you put in them. But Aemond knows you are sincere and this moves him more than he admits.

Locking his arms around you, he kisses you before saying:

“I love you.”

And this is enough for you.

***

You are married in secrecy to a man whom history despises being the kinslayed. His vices are listed perpetually in dust parchments, used as propaganda to disperse any honesty there might’ve colored the shades of the green party that ruled Westeros for a short period of time.

But you see his virtues that no chronicler bothered to see and those overcome the former in a colorful prism of human being.

Daeron Targaryen, his younger brother, is the only witness of the ceremony.

“Welcome to the family, my lady Y/N. In other circumstances, this would be a merry and most favorable occasion.”

“My brother, this matters little. I appreciate the warm wishes, though, and I bet better days are about to come.”

Aemond is pleased to see how well you and his family get along. When one lives history, easily it is to forget it. And so it goes.

When you are taken to his privy chambers, who’d think this was when history is about to change?

“You look so beautiful. Astonishingly so.”

“You make sparks fly”, you smile at him, taken by handsomeness, hands stroking his long silver hair before holding his face. “I adore you, my prince.”

It starts slowly. Your tongue pairs perfectly with his, in one same passionate rhythm. Only then impatience rises when the heat begins to burn.

Your hands start to undress him, automatically moving down to his leather pants.

“Let me show you my devotion”, you break the kiss to whisper in his ear.

Aemond hisses under his breath, eyes closed as he already reacts to your caresses. Your lips leave traces of warm kisses from his neck to his shoulders, going down to his belly and then… you kneel to say your prayers.

But he is now devouring you like a hungry man, starving for your soul. His lips on your nipples do wonderfulness. You roll your eyes, moaning softly as your hands play with his hair.

When his skillful fingers find way to your core, you know you are lost. Aemond smirks at how loud you can be, this arousing him further.

“Hmm, my darling”, he raises to meet your mouth, clashing it in a fervent kiss, therefore muffling your lustful cries.

And right as you come undone, he doesn’t wait any longer. Sliding right inside you, you open your eyes, somewhat pleasantly surprised by his intensity.

“Aemond!”

He could not tell whether you are moaning or complaining.

“Yes?”, he groans as starts to move inside you.

“You… are… so… fucking good!”

The prince laughs at your cursing.

“My lady, watch your tongue”, says he in such a malicious way that you feel you could come undone right now.

“Aemond, you devil”, you whimper, legs locked as you begin to move as one.

He smiles down at you, holding your hands above your head. As you kiss, you meet a heavenly bliss.

***

War, however, comes back in unsafe and soundly steps. You, merged in domestic happiness, allowed yourself to forget that in great delights await greater sorrows.

Thirty days after your marriage, to your surprise you find yourself conceived. You want to tell him in the ways your prince likes: flying Vhagar. By now you and this ancient beast have somehow gotten used to each other’s presence.

“May we fly together this evening, husband?”, you ask him, trying not to sound too eager.

Aemond somehow senses you are different. But he cannot tell what exactly is.

“For someone who feared Vhagar, you’ve become quite a dragonrider.”

This day you are breaking fast with your husband’s family, now pleasantly aware of your secret matrimony, notwithstanding Ser Otto’s initial disapproval.

You giggle quietly.

“That is what marrying to you means, is it not?”

Aemond laughs quietly.

“Why, my darling, I could never refuse you anything.”

“Just be mindful you two”, muses the Dowager Queen Alicent, distracted. “It’s cloudy today.”

***

May these memories break our fall. Will you take a moment? Promise me this. That you'll stand by me forever. But if, God forbid, fate should step in and force us into a goodbye, if you have children someday when they point to the pictures. Please tell them my name. Tell them how the crowds went wild. Tell them how I hope they shine…

How could you know what was about to happen then? You are excited to share the news, believing this is the best scenario you could’ve pictured.

Dressed in proper robes, you follow Aemond excitedly and when greeting Aemond with your characteristically sweetness, he snorts and says:

“Who could’ve known we’d come to this? You turned my dragon war in domesticated dog, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes at his teasing.

“Don’t be silly, Aemond. She needs love and caring like every animal”, you smile. “As well as respect.”

“I wonder at times if you are real.”

You turn your head slightly at him as you two prepare to ride.

“Why wouldn’t I be, my love? You are my husband, or am I mistaken? Have you been with Mistress Rivers ag…”

He interrupts you by kissing you passionately. And right there Vhagar roars through the air. You feel as if you’ve been electrified. And the look in your face awakes the best of him.

“I love you, woman.”

But every happiness dies when skies grow darker and Vhagar’s roar sounds different. Aemond frowns his eyebrows.

“Shit. There’s something wrong”, he is quickly alert.

You, focused in telling him about your state, begin to grow afflicted when remembering that that battle between him and Daemon Targaryen didn’t happen the way it should.

You interfered.

Fuck.

“Aemond, honey…”

Wind blows colder, it announces storm. He begins to drive Vhagar lower, flying higher as darkness sweeps away the last rays of light. You try not to panic, but by the looks on your prince, you are promptly a victim to it.

“I’ve ruined everything. I shouldn’t be here. I messed all.”

“Don’t say that”, Aemond doesn’t have a clue of what you are trying to say, but he is already familiar with your background to prevent your insecurity to meddle in it. “You have been the best thing to happen to me…”

Before you have the time to answer him, a different roar echoes through the thundering clouds.

You know where it comes from. You know the one behind him.

And you are at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

“Aemond!”

“Nothing will happen to you, this I swear”, but then he adds, without looking at you. “If, however, something happens to me…”

“Don’t!”

He continues as if you hadn’t protested.

“…never forget how you turned me into a better man. I am unworthy of the Seven Heavens, but I tasted a bit of sacred forgiveness when you loved me. You redeemed me of my sins, my lady, even when I was a miserable. Move on as you should. But never forget me. Or us.”

“Aemond!”, you cry because you remember the result of this battle, and worse is now the effect of his words. “I love you!”

There is so much to be said, but you cannot. Time steals you from him. As Aemond and Daemon faces each other, the prince tries to find a way to save you.

However, no dragon flees from battle. But because Caraxes is faster, it soon attacks Vhagar. It’s right here that, above Aegon’s hill, every shadow eclipses the sun.

It’s right here that in midst of it all, you fall. It happens too fast. Aemond is trying to fly away, but Vhagar doesn’t obey him again. It soon responds Daemon’s Caraxes offense with another.

But when Vhagar gets bitten in the neck, the ancient dragon loses balance for a moment and right here a storm wind knocks you out.

Aemond screams, trying to save you, but you refuse to be saved. You are still in tears, judging to see him attacked by Daemon when the spells of time engulf you.

‘These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die like fire and powder…’

To be continue…

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #house targaryen #prince Aemond Targaryen #lord Aemond Targaryen #lord Aemond #aemond targaryen smut #taylor swift #speak now (taylor’s version)#long live

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cocteaucherry · 9 months ago

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yuuji recruiting megumi and nobara for a silly adventure

a/n- sorry for the absence I've been vry busy, I have a few things in my drafts I'll be posting until I feel good enough to write pt2 of t&t <3

“Whaddya guys think?” Yuji held up a blue dress holding it flush against his body, “On you, gross on Y/N I don't think even she can save it.” Nobara quickly retorted sitting on the bench inside the clothing store

Yuji placed the dress back in the rack groaning, “Where's Megumi? He said he had an idea for a gift.” fushiguro had been gone for fifteen minutes mumbling something about finding a gift

“Maybe he ditched and for good reason,” Nobara whined rubbing her eyes, “It's YOUR girlfriend’s birthday and anniversary, what would we know?”

“Maybe because you're also friends with my girlfriend,”

“Yeah yeah, we've been through seven stores and found nothing..” nobara held up her own bags with a grin, “well for her of course.”

“Hey, can we get going now?” an irritated voice interrupted Yuj’s train of thought causing him to help, “Where did you come from?!”

“The opening.” he said plainly before holding up an expensive looking white bag, “Found a gift can we go?”

Nobara’s eyes widened at the sight of the bag immediately recognizing it, “WOAH WOAH WOAHH- Where'd you get the money for something from this store?” she exclaimed looking at the bag in awe.

“Don't worry about it, shopping’s done.”

Yuji took the bag grabbing the medium-sized box that resided inside, he popped the top off revealing a silver charm bracelet adorned with multiple charms. The one that caught his attention was a light pink one with the letter Y in the center.

The whole sight made Yuji feel fuzzy and warm, estattic he brought Megumi along. “I-Its perfect!” he grinned bringing the black haired boy into a hug to which he tensed in, “Hey! Can we get going! I'm starved!” Nobara complained standing up.

“Alright! Let's go eat!” Yuji said enthusiastically, pulling away from Megumi as they all began to walk towards the door.

Yuji grinned holding the white bag in his hand, “So Megumi are you gonna tell us how you afforded this?”

The raven-haired boy smirked before saying softly, “I have my ways.”

Bonus

Gojo smiled happily as he enjoyed his third serving of cake as he shoved another spoonful into his mouth. Nanami looked on in horror.

“Can you not have a little etiquette?” Nanami rolled his eyes, continuing his crossword puzzle.

“No need when I'm me.” the white-haired male hummed as a notification came through on his phone, he placed his small plate down to check and his jaw went slack.

“Did I get hacked?!” he exclaimed pulling his phone out to show Nanami, he squinted reading the large sum that was taken from his account.

Satoru immediately pulled out his wallet scanning for his credit card. It wasn't there.

“Nanami! Come on! We have a crime to report!” he whined out as Nanami grumbled taking his crossword puzzles, “have fun.” he sighed walking away.

The next day his card appeared on his dresser.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu x reader #jjk x reader #x reader #jjk imagines #gojo satoru #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro #jjk nanami #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #yuji fluff

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kyndredravenstories · 2 months ago

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Eyes of Infinity: Chapter 13

Hello, I have been posting my work on AO3 and recently decided to venture here to Tumblr. Please note: This story is 18+. No minors. Please read tags carefully. Link to AO3 below but I will also be posting the chapters here.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53564641/chapters/150383332

Pairing: Sylus/Female MC with some elements of Xavier/Female MC

Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Adventure, Smut, Porn with Big Plot and Big Feelings

Content Warning (For the entire fic): Explicit sexual content, spoilers and alterations to existing lore and cards/memories/tender moments/secret times, size kink, size difference, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, anal sex, fingering, all kinds of fingering, elements of consensual somno, dom!Sylus, jealousy, possessive!Sylus, Mephisto stalking, typical game violence, battle and combat

Summary: To love him meant stepping over the threshold and crossing into darkness. To be with him meant accepting the lure of the shadows. And to protect him from betrayal meant sacrifice. I knew not how, only that I would not let time sever our paths ever again.

Previous Chapters: Ch 1 / Ch 2 / Ch 3 / Ch 4 / Ch 5 / Ch 6 / Ch 7 / Ch 8 / Ch 9 / Ch 10 / Ch 11 / Ch 12

Morning sunlight filters through the window in Ellara's room when Sylus's phone buzzes with a phone call from a familiar number. He notes the source but doesn't reach to answer. Instead, he shifts to wrap his arms around the woman in his embrace, nuzzling into her neck, breathing in her scent, and pressing a kiss against her cheek. She stirs, giving a contented sigh as she settles deeper into his arms. His body heats in response to her backside pressing against him, and he has to reign himself in to avoid waking her and continuing where they left off a few hours past at the break of dawn.

Best to let her sleep for now. Her Evol returned sometime in the night, and who knew how hard such a thing was on the body?

He trails a hand down her arm. Beneath his touch, her Evol reaches for him with ghostly fingers, mixing with his own. They meld like lovers, intertwined and interconnected as though they were always meant to be. It's beautiful. Like soft white fireflies. When he weaves his fingers with hers, the union of their Evols hums like a singular ethereal note between their skin. The sensation is like fire in his veins, a pulsing that unifies their heartbeats for a moment.

Too long suppressed, it yearns to be set free, to bond with him, to Resonate.

Or, to Devour.

That's the other side of this light - one its owner has no knowledge of. If only Ellara knew how to wield it, he could feel more at ease. The night at the Mythe wouldn't have been such a traumatic experience. All she would have needed to do was come into his arms and take as much as him as she wanted. Standing beside him, she could have swept away all those in her path. She could have kept the LUMINIS from spilling on her skin. And, if needed, she could have healed all her wounds.

She was his to protect, and he'd been built to have plenty of Evol to spare for his counterpart.

Cliché, really.

Light and darkness.

Always yearning for each other yet always opposing.

But, it's not the first time he'd defied fate to get his way, and it won't be the last.

He doesn't think on it too much. What's the use in fretting over what-if's and maybe's? Right now, in this moment, she is real and here, with him. The second half of his heart that went missing eons ago. At least, that's how it feels at times. Though his body aches for her, Sylus tries to settle for just laying beside her. He runs a fingertip against her cheek. She sighs, but doesn't wake. He'll be surprised if she does.

Things had gotten pretty wild last night, and he'd definitely pushed her well past her limits. Stroking her arm, shoulder, and back with feathery touches, he wrestles with a conundrum of simultaneous regret and satisfaction. Her skin is covered in marks attesting to their lovemaking, and he can't be sure why he regrets being so rough with her when those marks look like they're right where they belong. They're his, after all. Had they been inflicted by anyone or anything else --

His phone buzzes for the second time. Same number. There's only two people who would dare call him twice in such a short span of time. Regrettable, but it's likely something urgent. Letting out a weary sigh, Sylus takes in the sight before him one last time. The flimsy curtains on her window allow daylight to fill the room without hindrance. He despises the warmth and cheer of sunrise, but somehow seeing her lying here, her skin and onyx hair gleaming in the soft oranges and reds of a new day, makes the morning bearable. Almost pleasant.

He shifts off the bed, moving carefully so he doesn't wake her. Snagging a towel from one of her shelves, he grabs his phone and leaves the room to go to the bathroom. After closing the door, he takes a quick shower, wraps the towel around his waist, then leans against the wall to redial the number. Two familiar voices answer. It's the twins.

"Boss, calling in to report."

"Did you lose your phone again, Luke?" Sylus asks.

"We were being tracked. Had to destroy it," Kieran answers.

"And the target?"

Luke replies. "Boss, you need to see the photos we took. Sending them now."

Sylus's phone pings as the files come through. He examines them one by one, his brow furrowing. His heartbeat remains steady, his expression still calm. Outwardly and inwardly, he stays the course of neutrality. But, something unfamiliar tugs at his awareness. A thorn in his thoughts, itching and scratching. It's something that started the night of the Mythe explosions and hasn't stopped since. Many have risen up to challenge his rule in the N109 Zone, yet none had truly challenged him. Looking at these photos, however, makes him wonder if that time is approaching.

His worst case scenario theory about Malakai Noxis had been right on target. He's not just some upstart after all. Though Noxis isn't nearly as powerful as Sylus in terms of Evol and influence, he's a damn nuisance when it comes to resourcefulness and cunning. Swiping through the last of the photos, he downloads them to his phone for later examination. Several pieces of the puzzle fall into place like rocks in his gut, and the picture they reveal is grim.

"He's done it again, Boss-man, just like you said he would," Luke says, his voice full of pride and admiration. His fearless bloodhounds. He could send them into a pit of fire and they'd gladly go.

"You did well," Sylus says, giving his most loyal men a rare compliment. "Stay on him. Be ready. This attempt will leave him weakened for a time." He glances at the watch on his wrist. Too early. He'll chase Noxis during the day if he must, but for now he can leave the twins to handle him while the sun is out.

"Yes, Boss."

He stands still for some time, considering his plans and options. His right hand rubs at his temple. It's never been more clear that Ellara cannot continue to stay in Linkon. This conflict has gone past the boundaries of the N109, and it's about to spill over into this shiny little city of glass. Linkon's people and its structures are as fragile as its principles. It's yet unclear what the end game is for Malakai, but a contingency plan must be made to safeguard Ellara's life. If Sylus has his way, the adopted siblings will never meet again.

Hopefully, her memory of Malakai's true identity will never return. Let her heart be at peace remembering the illusion Malakai showed her all those years while he was by her side. Not as a monster, but as someone she could love and lean on. To ensure that, nothing must jog that memory. Nothing can trigger it. But, hiding her away is just a prison sentence to a woman like Ellara. She must be free to do as she will, and she feels the most freedom when she can be the incredible Hunter she has trained to become.

The thought solidifies his decision.

He makes another call, and a grizzled old voice answers. A man.

"I thought I told you never to call here again," the voice sneers.

"Your threats and orders mean nothing to me," Sylus answers. "I don't have time to discuss semantics. I'm calling in a favor. You owe me plenty, and it's time to start collecting."

"You can't reach me out here," he voice hisses. "You're useless outside N109."

"Alright," Sylus smiles. "What do you want to bet against that delusion of yours? Your wife? Your son? Maybe the whole family."

"You monster. You would--"

"Don't ask questions you already know the answers to," Sylus drawls. "If you make me waste any more time, I'll be more aggressive in my collection of your debt."

The voice cusses him out with a few colorful words, but settles down. "What do you want?"

"Nothing too strenuous. I need you to transfer a few Hunters on assignment to another city. I'm sending you the list of names now."

"We're short here as is," the voice complains. The ping ping ping of a tablet touch screen being manipulated. More expletives. "These are some of my best, and you want me to send them away?"

"Not my problem. Put in the transfer now."

The line goes quiet for a few minutes. More pings. When the voice comes back, it sounds tired and defeated. "God damn you, Sylus. One day, you'll pay for all you've done."

"I don't make deals I can't uphold," Sylus replies, pushing the button to end the call.

That done, he makes his way back to the bed. He hasn't slept in a few days, and the edges of his vision are starting to fog. He lays down beside Ellara, examining her sleeping face. It's time to take a rest. Perhaps he could truly shut his eyes for once knowing the twins are following Malakai. Not for long. Just a few hours.

Just for a short while.

I wake up feeling warm and comfortable.

It doesn't take more than a second to realize that I'm not alone in my bed.

I'm laying in the crook of a man's arm.

I look up, shocked to see that Sylus is sleeping. Beneath my head, his chest is rising and falling steadily, and his heart is beating at a lazy cadence as always. I'm scared to move, worried that I'll break this incredible moment. I've never really seen Sylus asleep. He's always sitting up or leaning against something, even in bed. Always wary and alert even while secure in his home in N109. Then again, I suppose there is never any security for a man like him. The King must be ever vigilant if he is to keep his place and rule over the Underworld.

That's why the scene I'm witness to is so...captivating. Seeing him close his eyes and show me this kind of vulnerability is surreal. How can he trust me to this extent? Sure, we've admitted to having some feelings for each other. But, crimes of passion are a thing. Isn't he worried I might try to hurt him? That I might be deceiving him?

I'd sooner hurt myself.

I check that line of thought.

Man, I'm in over my head with this guy. It's not just the crazy sex, either. It's all of him. If I try to piece together the trail of how I'd fallen this hard, I couldn't. It's an endless reel of flashbacks to moments just like this where he did something that stole my breath away. His gestures, the way he holds my hand, the way he looks at me, the way he has me wrapped around his finger yet never ever encroaches on my freedom or my independence. The way his long eyelashes brush against his cheekbones. How kissable his mouth is.

He smells like my body wash, and there's something really intimate about it. He must have showered while I was sleeping. How he fit his big burly frame in my tiny rabbit hutch of a shower is a mystery instantly solved with flashbacks of how we were both squished in there last night. The thought makes my knees tingle. I run my hand down his bare chest and abs. His skin is light and pale with blue veins accenting an array of battle-hardened muscle. Smooth and hairless except for a faint trail of starlit silky hair leading down to a place I am way too embarrassed to think about right now. My face heats up.

I rise up on my elbow, noting that it's late morning. I should really get up and get the day started. Look at my phone. Report in. But, I'm out of sorts. Discombobulated like an Otto with a damaged AI module. I can't think of anything except the man in front of me. My former workaholic life seems especially far away, like a daydream. Not to mention, I can't explain anything about what happened at the Destiny Café. I'm dreading the missed calls I'll find on my phone, either from UNICORNS or from Xavier. They'll undoubtedly have questions, but I don't have any answers.

I check in with my memories from last night. Something is definitely off. I remember being at my apartment and reading, thinking about my impending meeting with Malakai. After that, everything is a giant gaping black hole until the moment when I stood outside the burning café with Sylus. I remember feeling dazed and confused; I'd thought at the time I might have been in shock. I figured it would wear off, but it hasn't. It worries me that I still don't remember anything.

Did something happen to me inside that café that could have affected my memory? Was Sylus a witness to it? If so, why hasn't he brought it up?

Well, I guess we were busy with other things...

Too antsy to lay still now, I slowly untangle myself from his arms and scoot to the edge of the bed. I'm naked, a fact I remedy as swiftly as possible as I dash to the bathroom for a quick shower. When I'm facing the mirror and washed out lights, I grimace at the sight of my body. I bruise easily; I always have. But, the amount of marks on my skin astounds me. My neck, my shoulders, a few places on my stomach, and - oh god - was did he do to my thigh to make that mark?

Nothing hurts though. No stinging or anything. No soreness except for my lower back, but the way we went at it that's no surprise. Not to mention, I've never been with a guy so...well endowed.

"Ugh," I groan, embarrassed. I try to remember if any of this hurt last night or this morning, but all I can recall is the incredible pleasure I felt and how gentle and thoughtful Sylus was. He's the most perceptive and attentive lover I've ever had, though to be honest my experience isn't much to speak of. Again, I find myself wondering if I could ever handle him when he's not holding back. Judging by the state of my skin, I'm not so sure.

Not now, Ellara. Focus.

I shower quickly and efficiently. The memories I've recently made in this cabin are too much for my sensibilities to handle. I don't know whether I did the right thing by inviting Sylus up last night or not. Part of me feels like I didn't have much choice. I'd wanted him so badly, and no amount of good sense or pride could have stopped me. He's Pandora's Box, and I've only scratched the surface. There's definitely more to him, and I want to see it.

I wrap a towel around my body and carefully sneak out of the bathroom, knowing how light of a sleeper Sylus is. Afterwards I seek out my phone, still in the back pocket of the pants I'd discarded last night. My throat goes tight at those particular memories. I can't help but rush to cover my face with my hands, barely suppressing a sound of pure mortification. Hopefully these flashbacks subsist soon or I won't be able to function today. I'm still doing the walk of shame as I tip toe to my closet to throw on a bathrobe.

Taking a breath, I check my phone and flinch. Missed calls from the Captain, Xavier, even Tara. Running my hand through my hair, I pad to the kitchen and sit at the breakfast table to make some calls while sipping on orange juice. I start with Tara since she's the least threatening in the mix. We talk briefly about what happened last night, but she's primarily focused on inviting me over for a girls night. Her recovery is progressing well, and she's ready to get back into her normal routine. I'm relieved to hear that my friend is alright.

Next is the Captain. I'm interrogated for a good forty-five minutes on this call. The end result is less than pleasant. Jenna is relieved to hear that my Evol has returned but recommends that I take a week off for my mental health. It's clear that I'm a target for Noxis, and she needs time to arrange a new assignment schedule for me. Despite my protests, she wants to temporarily transfer me to work in another city. Knowing Xavier and how protective he is of his partner, she also wants to add him to that assignment.

As it happens, there's currently urgent need for Hunters in Goldwood City. I look up the location on my phone, noting that it's closer to the N109 Zone than Linkon. It's a smaller city; not as developed as here. More rural areas with mountainous regions. Not as many training facilities and not nearly as big a budget for the local Hunters. A sudden outbreak of Wanderers has necessitated the establishment of a quarantine zone. Within a week, the zone will be established and most citizens evacuated to allow Hunters to subdue the threat.

I scratch my head. Well, at least it will keep me busy. I was itching to get back into the swing of things, wasn't I? So why do I feel so dejected as I accept the assignment? Though I try to protest against the additional week off, Jenna is firm, telling me that if I keep arguing with her she'll recommend that I start going to therapy on top of my medical leave. In less than two months, I'd been in several traumatic situations, lost my Evol, miraculously recovered, and now am the target of a major criminal organization. The fact that I haven't had a mental breakdown yet is unbelievable, she says. If only she knew that I had an incredible support network in Xavier and Sylus.

As crazy as that last part sounds.

"There are rumors, Fireborne, that you're in a relationship."

The question comes out of nowhere. I almost choke on my glass of juice.

"E-Excuse me?" I cough.

"Is it something I need to be concerned about?" Jenna asks. Her tone has softened considerably.

"Why would something like that be of concern?" I frown.

She sighs. "It's tough being a woman in this field, Ellara." It's the first time she's called me by my name. "Men can get married, have families, and keep fighting if they so choose. But, a woman has so many more responsibilities and duties. Once we have a child, we no longer just belong to ourselves."

Children? Marriage? My brain short circuits. I rush to stop her. "Please, Captain. Hang on. There's absolutely no reason to think in that direction." I leave it there, unwilling to divulge any more of my personal life.

"I'm sorry if I've overstepped in this case. There was some hearsay, and the way Xavier defended you when you went on medical leave..."

My cheeks grow hot. "Y-You thought...with Xavier?" I'm relieved yet somehow still embarassed. "Oh. No. Not at all. Xavier and I are absolutely only partners. That's it."

"It's hard to believe a partner would look at you like he does," she observes.

I shake my head. "I assure you, Captain, we are only friends."

"I see. Again, apologies if I've overstepped. I just see myself in you, Ellara, and I want to help. You know I care for my team. I have some regrets about never taking time to connect with someone. I hope you can consider that advice. Even if you do find that for yourself, you are going to grow stronger and make it far in our organization. Keep up the excellent work."

"Thank you, Captain."

When I hang up the call, I drop my head over my folded arms on the table. I give a monstrous groan like a blaster rifle venting steam. Did Captain Jenna just try to give me advice on relationships? Despite my initial shock, I actually do appreciate that she cares enough to show me such a different side to her character. Though I do wonder how far her opinion of me would fall if she knew that I already was in love with someone - the leader of Onychinus to be more precise.

Oh Lord.

After a few more deep breaths, I pick up my phone and find Xavier's contact. I don't know why I'm so nervous about this call. It's just as I told Jenna. He's my partner. Just a friend. So then why have things been so impossibly awkward between us since he first brought me back from N109? Why did I feel like I was committing some kind of crime when I told him I wasn't alone over the phone last night? While I'm stewing in angst and emotions, a text comes through and lights up my screen. It's none other than the object of my thoughts. I tap to open the message.

X: Heard about the transfr. Miss U. Will B home tonight.

I read it again. Then again. Suddenly, I'm doubting my sanity. This message doesn't sound like something you would send to a friend.

"My Knight", Sylus had called him.

Mine.

Why would he say it that way? Sure, Sylus likes to play on words at times. But, he's the most perceptive man I know. Has he picked up on something that I hadn't even considered? The thought is like a stake to the chest. Winded, I frantically begin reading through our message history with fresh eyes unclouded by the banalities of day to day survival. What I find is so disturbing that I don't know how to react to it.

All this time, I was under the impression that Xavier and just had a kind of natural platonic intimacy. We held hands and hugged. We spent a lot of time together. We ate dinner and slept over at each other's apartments. We went to the arcade and played games together. Yet, somehow, there was something growing between us that I had completely failed to pick up on. What started as a friendship had evolved over time into something a lot more intimate without me realizing it. Xavier led in his own graceful silent way, and I had followed without a second thought.

My sudden panic gives me a strange kind of courage. I dial Xavier's number, my heart pounding in my chest. He answers after a few dial tones.

"Ellie? Is everything alright?"

I'm not at all prepared for the way I react to that new nickname. I struggle to answer without stuttering.

"Yes...Xavier...I need to ask you something..."

A beat, then -- "Ask away."

"Look, maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe I hit my head last night and I'm confused. The Captain just called and asked me some stuff, and it got me thinking in a really weird direction. I just need to know that I'm not crazy."

"You can ask me anything you want," he says. I stop. Take a breath. There's definitely affection in his voice. My god, why hadn't I realized it sooner? Maybe it's because he's Xavier - the Xavier. The strongest Hunter. Unbelievably handsome. A star way out of reach for an ordinary little bookworm like me.

"We're friends right? And friends should always be honest with each other." I wring my hands together. "All this time, I've always had a firm understanding of our relationship. We're partners and friends. That's it." I'm biting my lip now, and I can feel myself starting to sweat. "But, after this talk with Jenna, I feel like I might go crazy unless I just talk to you and ask. I've never thought of us in any other way, and if I make you uncomfortable--"

"You're not crazy," he says, his voice going soft.

My mind blanks out.

"What?"

Silence on the other of the line. With each second that passes, I sweat more and more. "Ellie, I don't want to talk about this over the phone. Can you wait until I come back tonight? There is something I should have told you a long time ago. I just didn't want to put pressure on you."

Oh. My. God.

That sounds like a damn confession.

Wait. Hold the phone. I'm not ready to have this discussion. Not in the least. Not when I have a naked man in my bed this very minute whom I've confessed my feelings for already.

"A-Alright," I answer, though nothing is alright at all. "But, Xavier...I don't know if I..."

"Don't think that far ahead. Just meet me tonight so I can say my piece." He stops for a moment. "Can you do that?"

"Yes. I will."

We end the call, and I sit in my chair feeling completely lost. I pull on the ends of my hair, rub the bridge of my nose, eat a whole box of strawberry Pocky from the stress. What am I supposed to do? I care for Xavier. That part is undeniable. He's an essential part of my life. He's my friend. My partner. But, he's also a little more, too. I just don't know how to identify what that "little more" is right now. With where I am right now, do I even try?

I stand up and walk to the bedroom. My breath catches when I see Sylus still laying in the same position I'd left him in. The way the sun caresses his muscular torso makes me swallow hard. All other thoughts completely vacate my head, all of my focus honing in on my gorgeous bed mate. I walk the rest of the way to his side as though possessed. Like I'm in a trance, I sit on the edge of the bed right beside him and lean down to touch his silky hair. I'm afraid to breathe, afraid to shatter this just like I was earlier.

In fact, that's how I feel about this whole thing between Sylus and I. This thing we've labeled as love but have failed to categorize in any other way. It's new, and amazing, and still so delicate. It's too good to be real. It's as stunning and beautiful as stained glass, yet the slightest malignant wind could break it. Sure, I could walk away from it now. I could try. But, something tells me that I would always come back. From the moment I met him, this man felt like destiny embodied. A comet streaking through the night sky destined to collide with my world and make a complete mess of it.

One moment, I'm reaching for him.

Something yanks on my arm.

The next second, Sylus's red eyes are all I see as I'm flipped over onto my back on the mattress. I'm held in place by hands and Evol, and I don't dare to move. I falter under his penetrating gaze and mumble an apology for waking him. For a moment, he doesn't react. I hold my breath against a rush of adrenaline. He may be my lover, but in this instant, he's pinning down a potential threat.

One moment.

Two.

Then his features soften, the aggression in his eyes melting into tired affection.

"You're lucky I'd know your footsteps anywhere," he murmurs, his voice husky from sleep. "Be careful sneaking up on me."

I nod. He doesn't need to explain. Right now, his Evol feels sharp, dangerous. His gaze is cold and wary. Of course he's always on high alert. This is Sylus of Onychinus. He just makes me lose sight of who he is so often that I forget myself around him. I still don't understand how he's able to compartmentalize his feelings and emotions the way he does. Maybe it's a skill he could teach me one day.

He doesn't give me a chance to apologize again. In another blink, he's laying on his side and pulling me up against him. With a sigh, he settles his chin against the top of my head; his large muscular arm wraps around my waist. It's so warm and wonderful. I'm absolutely trapped. Whatever I wanted to do today is probably not getting done after all, and I'm suddenly entirely OK with that. For propriety, though, I need to protest even a little.

"Sylus, I can't sleep now."

"You can," he assures me. "You hardly slept last night."

"I have to go to the armory at UNICORNS and update my weapons."

"Forget that junk. I'll have someone bring much better ones later," he practically waves me off.

"There's paperwork I need to turn in, too."

"Send it electronically. You can't tell me the Association doesn't have holo-mail."

"But, Sylus..."

"You're fussy this morning, kitten," he grumbles. I jerk when his lips brush my ear. "Since you've delivered yourself to me, don't think about leaving just yet. Stay here for a bit."

Well, shit. I can't resist when he puts it like that, can I? And why would I even want to? I let my body relax, wrapping my hand around his big forearm. "I really do have a lot to prepare...I need to train. They're forcing me to take a week off before sending me to Goldwood City on a temporary transfer."

He doesn't say anything to that. "You don't seem surprised," I add.

"They send Hunters where they're needed, right?"

"Yes, this isn't the first time I've left Linkon for missions like this."

"Well, then," he shifts against me. "As it happens, I also have some business to take care of. But, after that, come spend the rest of your week off with me."

"With you? Where?"

"I have a way to help you train and get into shape before your return to duty." There's a playful bit of sarcasm in his voice. Whatever he's planned isn't anything I can possibly predict, nor is it a way for me to just train. But, I'm too curious to turn him down.

"Alright, but can you answer me something about last night? My memory is still foggy..."

"Malakai was there," he replies without missing a beat. "You met with him. When I arrived, you had him on the ground injured and at gun point. He set off an explosive."

My hand tightens on his forearm. "That's why your shirt is in tatters. You protected me."

He makes a noncommittal noise, as though what he did was insignificant.

"Why were you there? Did Mephisto give you my message? Even if he did, you got there so fast."

"I was already in the neighborhood," he says. "As for why, well...didn't you ask me to come?"

I frown. "Did anyone find his body?" I take Sylus's silence as a 'no'. "Does that mean that Malakai is..."

"He escaped," Sylus finishes. "The twins are on his trail now. Once I locate him, he will deeply come to regret his actions."

But, will you kill him?

I don't ask the most prominent question on my mind. Sylus has never once hidden who he is from me. Nor have I ever deluded myself about the depth and darkness of his nature. To be the King, one must be ruthless. It's part of who he is and who he must be to stay at the top. I've never seen him act irrationally. Nor have I seen him murder any innocents. Perhaps that's a way for me to escape from the moral responsibility of loving a man like this. But, I don't care.

"We won't see each other for the next few days, then," I murmur.

"Mephisto will be with you," Sylus says. He sounds like he's drifting off again. "And if you should need me before our next meeting, all you have to do is call for me."

It's evening when I open my eyes again. I sit up and rub at my bleary eyes, noting that I'm incredibly thirsty. I must have been out for a few hours. I search for Sylus, but the bed is empty. The spot where he slept is cold, which means he left quite some time ago. I close my eyes against a pang of loneliness, but I don't let it slow me down. Checking my phone, I see a text message from an unknown number.

Don't forget to eat.

I add the number to my contacts, labeling it "Mephisto". After downing a few bottles of vitamin water to rehydrate, I throw on a hoodie and leggings in favor of the bath robe I'm wearing and head to the kitchen to grab something to eat. Somehow, when I open the fridge and see it well stocked with ready-made meal kits, I'm not surprised. I reach for the phone in my pocket and write a snarky message:

E: Looks like you raided a flash sale at a nearby convenience store. Was a private chef too expensive?

I laugh at my own words. Just imagining Sylus going to the grocery store is absurd. His reply pings a few minutes later as I'm unwrapping a chicken and rice bowl to put it in the oven.

M: I didn't want him to wake you. If you want, I'll arrange for one tomorrow.

As always, he calls my bluff. I rush to answer with a resounding "no thank you", knowing Sylus is definitely the type to go ahead and send a private chef to my ratty little apartment if I don't cover my bases.

E: Thank you for doing this. It will save me time this week.

M: Take better care of yourself. If you need anything, tell me.

My heart melts at that. I think about him nonstop the whole time I'm eating and washing dishes. Just as I'm wiping my hands with a washcloth, a knock at my door startles me out of my reverie. I pad over to my front door and open it without checking the viewing window.

Blue eyes, clear and true as the summer sky, meet mine. There stands Xavier, wearing a black uniform he's been donning quite often lately. He looks frazzled, something I'm not used to seeing at all. Instantly worried, I step forward.

"Xavier, are you OK? Did you just return from the mission?"

He nods.

"You should have gone home first. Rested."

"No," he cuts me off, his voice low. "I don't want to wait anymore."

"Alright," I answer, my shoulders and body tensing. I haven't exactly been looking forward to this conversation. "Well, at least come in. Sit down. Let me get you something warm to drink." His hair and shoulders are covered in little clumps of white snow. He must be soaked under that armor. He agrees to my offer, letting me lead him to the living room and equip him with a large towel for his head. While he's drying off, I make him some hot tea.

"Here," I say as I serve it to him on a small dessert plate with a box of chocolate Pocky on the side. "Though I still think you should go home and change. You'll catch a cold like this."

"I'll be fine," he counters.

Nervous, I sit down on the other side of the couch. "Xavier, before you say anything, please know that I don't feel ready for this conversation. I don't know how I would respond to--"

"I like you," he cuts in. "I've liked you for a very long time now." His perfect blue eyes stare right through me, confident and unwavering. He shifts toward me, and I shift backwards in response. But, there's nowhere to go. I've reached the armrest. Xavier stops moving when he sees my discomfort. He looks down.

"I waited too long," he says, his voice gravelly and full of regret. He reaches out for my hand. I hesitate, but I can't deny him this. Not when he looks so forlorn. My chest tight, I let him weave our fingers together. That "little bit more" I identified earlier squeezes around my heart like a thorny vine.

"Xavier, I...like Sylus." It comes out of my mouth before I can stop it, my lips stumbling on the word "love" and downgrading it. My mind is numb; my filter went flying the moment Xavier confessed to me. The words keep coming as though released from a dam. "I don't know when or how it happened, but I care about him a lot. I have no idea what we are or where this is going, but...I want to find out." My eyes sting. "I'm sorry. I'm really really sorry."

Using the hand that's holding mine, he pulls me into a tight hug. We stay that way for a while, my shoulders shaking, until he finally speaks again.

"I'll wait," he says past gritted teeth. His whole body is tense, like he's about to jump into battle. "I've waited this long, haven't I?"

I shake my head. "No, you can't do that. That's just--"

"I'll wait," he says again, more forcefully this time. I try to pull back, but he holds firm. "Give me a minute, please. I don't want you to see my expression right now."

A long time passes. Many thoughts fly through my head. At last, I come to a decision. It's one that's going to hurt, but I've never been so sure of anything. When he lets me pull back from him, I raise my chin and force myself to look deep into his eyes.

"Xavier, don't accept the transfer to Goldwood. Let me go alone. We can't be partners when there's this much unsettled between us."

His gaze darkens. "You're asking me to leave you alone again. Just like before."

I shake my head. "No. This isn't the same thing."

"You're my partner, Ellie."

The vine squeezes harder, and I bite my lip. "Yes, but...I can't keep hurting you."

"Give me your boundaries," he says. "Tell me what I have to do to make you more comfortable. I'll do whatever you ask. But, I won't leave you."

I lower my eyes, feeling defeated. "I need to think about all this. It's too much for me right now."

"Then forget we talked about it." He takes a breath. "There's still time before the transfer. Take that time to think. I'll stay out of it."

He stands up and heads for the front door. I can't stop him; don't have the right. Not when there's a chance I was inadvertently leading him on all this time. He's pulling away just like he always has in the past when it seemed like we grew too close. Before, I always chased him. Now, I have to give him space, too. It's only fair.

"Have a good night," he says as he shuts the door behind him. In the wake of him leaving, I'm still sitting on the couch. Still lost. Still hurting. There's only one thing I'm certain of, and it's that my feelings for Sylus aren't just some temporary crush. They're as real as these kind of things probably get, and that means that asking Xavier to wait for me is completely selfish. I need to communicate my stance better, but how can I do that when I really still have no idea where my relationship with Sylus stands?

In that moment, I make it my goal to have that discussion with Sylus during our time together. I can't put it off anymore. I need to know what we are to each other and where he sees all of this going.

It's a while before I stand up and clear off Xavier's untouched plate. I want to text him a reminder to get dry and warm, but I stop myself. Give him space. Right now, we both need time to think. I slide open my living room window, hoping that some fresh air will help clear my head. As though on cue, Mephisto flies inside with a cranky squawk and settles on my shoulder. I pet the top of his head, my eyes stinging.

"Sorry to make you wait, Your Majesty," I say through trembling lips. A tear slips past my self control. Mephisto's ruby red eyes take it in. For once, he's silent. "S-Sorry," I tell him, wiping a trail of snot off my nose. "Life just got super complicated, Mephy, and I have no idea how to deal with it."

#eyes of infinity delirium #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfic #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x mc #sylus/mc #sylusposting #sylus #lnds #lnds sylus

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